#Poison Ivy x Reader

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi, do you have a request? If so, could you make Bane and Scarecrow (separately) if their crush confesses his feelings to them? (You can add other villains if you want) have a nice day :D

Bat-Villains x Reader

You confess your feelings to them

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

Being in my Batman-Comics era, this made me so happy, thank you! Hope you like it <3

Joker

- Confessing your feelings to the Joker is a feat in itself. His mind is a labyrinth, twisted and sharp, and he hardly ever makes it easy for anyone to get close. So, when you manage to muster up the courage and spill your heart out, he’s taken aback. His smile is unnervingly wide, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—a flash of curiosity and something darker that makes you wonder if he actually reciprocates.

- Joker’s interest in you grows even more as he realizes you’re different from his typical followers. You aren’t afraid of him, nor are you drawn in by just his dangerous allure. You’ve seen past his twisted laughter and manic acts, and you still want him. This intrigues him, even bothers him a little. How could anyone see anything in him other than madness? Yet, there you are, looking at him like he’s human, and it’s both terrifying and intoxicating to him.

- He teases you relentlessly after your confession, never letting you forget the vulnerability you showed him. “Oh, darling, you’re just too sweet for me,” he’d purr with a devilish grin, leaning in way too close. He loves watching you squirm, enjoying every bit of control he has over your emotions, almost like a game. But deep down, there’s a hint of admiration. You’ve got guts, and he respects that.

- The Joker’s way of showing affection is, naturally, unconventional. Sometimes it’s an offhanded compliment; other times, it’s a madcap scheme he drags you into, letting you play a part just because he wants you close. When he pulls you into his schemes, he’s almost like a kid showing off his toys, reveling in your reactions—whether it’s awe, excitement, or even horror. It thrills him to know he has that effect on you.

- Every so often, though, you catch him staring at you with a look that’s almost soft, a dangerous vulnerability creeping into his gaze. He covers it up quickly with a quip or an exaggerated gesture, but you know you saw something real. It gives you hope, even though you know that being with him will always mean walking the tightrope between love and chaos.

- Over time, Joker starts to grow possessive. It’s subtle at first—a smirk when he sees others vying for your attention, a warning look thrown at anyone who gets too close. But before long, he’s unapologetically possessive, wanting you at his side, sometimes even in situations where he wouldn’t usually bring someone along. “You’re mine,” he’ll say with a dark, playful tone that sends chills down your spine.

- Joker will never admit he has feelings for you outright, but in his way, he shows it. The more he involves you in his world, the closer he brings you to his madness, the clearer it becomes. To him, love is chaos, control, and the thrill of having someone he can warp and twist yet who willingly stays. You’ve become his favorite muse, his inspiration, the one who reminds him that even monsters can find someone to care for, in their own twisted way.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley is surprisingly giddy when you confess your feelings to her. She’s spent her life surrounded by people who see her as a joke or Joker’s sidekick, so to have someone see her as her own person—and even like her for it—makes her heart swell. She’s blushing like crazy, giggling with delight, and probably wraps you in a tight hug before you can even process her reaction.

- As bubbly and playful as she is, Harley takes your confession seriously. She’s been through enough heartbreak and knows what it’s like to be used or ignored, so your affection means the world to her. She’ll ask you so many questions, wanting to know every little thing you feel, why you like her, and what you think of her quirks. She wants to believe it’s real, but part of her is scared it’s too good to be true.

- Harley is incredibly affectionate, and once she knows you care for her, she’s not shy about showing it. Expect surprise hugs from behind, spontaneous kisses, and laughter-filled moments. She’s like a whirlwind of emotions, sometimes leaving you breathless with her enthusiasm. She loves to make you laugh and will go out of her way to cheer you up, even if it means pulling out her silliest antics.

- She also starts to show a fiercely protective side, a side of her that you usually only see when Joker’s around. Harley may be quirky and fun, but she’s also a skilled fighter, and she won’t let anyone mess with you. She’ll even pick fights with people who look at you the wrong way, shooting you a grin afterward and saying, “Nobody messes with my sweetie and gets away with it!”

- Despite her tough exterior, Harley is vulnerable with you in a way she rarely allows herself to be. She’ll open up about her insecurities, her past, and her struggles with self-worth, trusting that you won’t judge her. She’s scared of being abandoned, of not being enough, and it’s clear in the way she clings to you a bit tighter than she would anyone else. It’s her way of telling you she doesn’t want to lose you.

- Harley’s loyalty is unwavering. Once she’s fallen for you, you’re as good as family to her. She’ll bring you little gifts, things that remind her of you, and surprise you with thoughtful gestures. Whether it’s a flower she picked up or a silly trinket she found, each one is given with a smile and a “This reminded me of ya!”

- With Harley, every day is unpredictable, a mix of chaos and love. She might drag you into wild adventures or plan the most unconventional dates, but through it all, she’s committed to making you feel cherished. She’ll never hide her feelings for you, wearing her heart on her sleeve and reminding you every chance she gets that you’re special to her, her own little piece of sanity in a world gone mad.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- When you first confess your feelings to Poison Ivy, she’s quiet, studying you with that piercing, assessing gaze of hers. She doesn’t let emotions cloud her judgment easily, and she needs to be sure your words are genuine. But when she realizes your feelings are sincere, there’s a rare, subtle softening in her expression. Her walls don’t crumble easily, but for you, she might just let one or two down.

- Ivy’s affection is a quiet, powerful force. She’s not overly demonstrative, but her way of showing she cares is through small gestures that speak volumes. A soft touch of her hand against yours, vines that subtly wrap around you protectively, or even a single, precious flower left for you in a place she knows you’ll find. Every gesture from her is intentional, calculated, and rare, making it all the more precious.

- One of her favorite ways to spend time with you is in her greenhouse. She’ll invite you to work alongside her, teaching you about the plants she loves as if they’re old friends. Sometimes, she’ll even let you help nurture the rarest ones, a gesture of trust few ever receive. She finds it soothing to have you nearby, feeling like a kindred spirit amid the chaotic Gotham world.

- Ivy’s protective nature is fierce. She sees the world as cruel and selfish, and anyone who hurts you quickly becomes a target of her wrath. If anyone so much as tries to harm you, they’ll find themselves facing the fury of the natural world—thorns, vines, and deadly spores at Ivy’s command. But with you, she’s gentle, careful, almost reverent, knowing that you see the good in her that others overlook.

- Ivy isn’t one for typical romance, but she enjoys creating beauty just for you. She might grow a unique plant in your favorite color, a species found nowhere else, just to show her affection in her own way. It’s her version of saying “I love you” without needing the words. And sometimes, when she catches you admiring her creations, she allows herself a rare, genuine smile.

- Though Ivy is usually serious and somewhat reserved, she has a playful side she only shows around you. Sometimes, she’ll playfully summon vines to brush against you or weave a flower crown for you, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watches your reaction. In these quiet moments, you can see the softness she hides from the rest of the world.

- Ivy is drawn to you because of your calmness and respect for the natural world, something she finds rare in Gotham. You’re like a breath of fresh air, and she finds herself surprisingly at peace around you. She might not be able to put it into words, but she knows that being with you makes her feel connected in a way she hasn’t before, making you her safe harbor in the storm of her mission.

Bane

- When you confess your feelings to Bane, his reaction is one of quiet surprise. He’s not used to hearing confessions of love—respect, fear, yes, but love is something rare in his world. He’s silent for a moment, his intense gaze holding yours, and there’s a flicker of something softer behind his usual stoic expression. For a man like him, vulnerability is dangerous, but with you, he’s willing to risk it.

- Bane’s love language is protection and physical presence. He doesn’t rely much on words but instead lets his actions speak for him. He’ll always be by your side, a solid and unbreakable presence, making sure you feel safe in his care. It’s his way of telling you that as long as he’s around, nothing in this world will harm you.

- Though he may seem intimidating, Bane has a gentle side he only shows to you. He’ll be mindful of his strength, his touch light and cautious, always making sure he doesn’t hurt you. If you’re ever in danger, however, his calm façade drops instantly, and his fierce, unyielding side comes forward. In his eyes, protecting you is non-negotiable.

- Bane loves sharing stories with you about his life and past, opening up in a way he rarely does with anyone else. His voice is deep and steady as he recounts his upbringing, his struggles, and his victories, wanting you to understand who he is beyond the mask of strength. He doesn’t hold back, trusting that you’ll accept him, scars and all.

- Despite his hard exterior, Bane has a surprisingly romantic side. He might bring you something small but meaningful, like a flower he picked from a rare spot he found on his travels, or a trinket that reminds him of you. He isn’t vocal about his affection, but each gesture is thoughtful and sincere, a sign of the care he holds for you.

- Bane admires your calm, composed nature, finding it a perfect balance to his intense personality. With you, he feels at ease in a way he never thought possible. You’re a reminder of the peace he’s always sought but never quite found until now. Sometimes, he’ll sit in quiet contemplation with you, enjoying the stillness of your presence.

- In private, Bane allows himself to be more vulnerable, letting down his guard and showing you his softer side. He might even let you touch his face, something he rarely allows anyone else to do, leaning into your touch with closed eyes as if grounding himself. In these moments, you’re the only one who sees the man beneath the mask, the one who loves you fiercely and would do anything to keep you safe.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- When you confess your feelings to Jonathan Crane, it surprises him. He's so consumed by his own dark philosophies and fear experiments that he's not used to genuine affection. He looks at you, studying your face as if you’re another psychological puzzle to solve. But he sees no ulterior motive in your eyes, and, though he rarely shows emotion, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

- Jonathan expresses affection in a rather unconventional way. Instead of typical romance, he offers you pieces of his twisted intellect. He might discuss his latest experiments or philosophical thoughts with you, valuing your opinion in a way he seldom does with anyone else. If he asks you to assist him with his research, it's his odd way of showing trust and letting you into his world.

- Crane finds comfort in your calm and composed nature. For a man who thrives on fear and chaos, your grounded presence is a rare stability. He’ll often sit in silence with you, just observing or talking quietly about his theories. The quiet moments you share become a reprieve from the relentless psychological battles he wages with Gotham.

- The Scarecrow isn’t one to be overly affectionate, but he shows a dark protectiveness toward you. If anyone even thinks of causing you harm, Jonathan will unleash his full arsenal of fear-inducing chemicals without hesitation. He may not be expressive with words, but he’s ruthless in ensuring no one dares to cross you.

- One of his subtle ways of showing affection is by sharing his fears with you, something he keeps hidden from everyone else. He’ll discuss the fears he had growing up, or his fascination with understanding fear in all its forms. Sharing these secrets with you is his way of revealing the man behind the mask, trusting that you’ll accept his complexities.

- Jonathan admires your resilience and ability to stay calm, even in his most chaotic moments. You’ve become a constant in his life, and though he won’t openly say it, he finds himself feeling at peace when he’s near you. He may even develop a rare habit of reaching out to hold your hand, an act he considers a grounding tether in his unpredictable world.

- Sometimes, he’ll leave small notes or bookmarks in the psychology books he knows you’ll read, with cryptic messages or quotes that he knows will make you think. It’s his way of letting you into his mind without having to speak it aloud, and he takes pleasure in watching you puzzle over his hidden meanings.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- When you confess your feelings to Harvey Dent, you can see the internal struggle play out on his face. Harvey—the man he used to be—is vulnerable and hopeful, while Two-Face, the darker half, is wary and skeptical. It’s rare to see him so conflicted, but when he realizes you’re sincere, he gives you a small, tentative smile, one of the few true ones you’ve seen.

- Harvey’s love language is mixed with his duality. Some days he’s sweet, protective, and deeply caring, a glimpse of the old Harvey who fights to emerge. Other days, his darker side takes over, and he becomes more distant, protective but harsh. He’s constantly at war with himself, but he does his best to show you both sides, hoping you’ll accept him fully.

- A symbol of trust for him is letting you hold his two-headed coin, the one he uses for all his decisions. He’ll let you flip it, letting you “decide” for him in those moments when he’s overwhelmed. This is an enormous gesture from him, showing that he values you as a balance between his good and bad sides.

- Harvey’s protectiveness over you is intense and fierce. He’ll use all his resources to make sure you’re safe in Gotham’s dangerous world, and if anyone tries to harm you, he’ll make sure they regret it. His duality comes into play here—sometimes he’s gentle in his protection, and other times, Two-Face’s wrath is ruthless and merciless.

- On good days, he’ll reminisce with you about his life before the accident, sharing memories of who he once was. In these moments, he’s vulnerable and nostalgic, as if hoping you might remind him of his better nature. He doesn’t have many people he can trust, but you’re one of the few who sees the real Harvey underneath.

- Harvey loves to show you both sides of his life, taking you to high-end places and then to his more seedy hideouts, introducing you to the two parts of his world. He’s nervous about showing his darker side, but he trusts that you’ll understand him. It’s his way of including you in every aspect of his life, letting you in where few others ever go.

- He has a unique way of showing affection, giving you small, rare smiles or reaching out to touch your hand with his scarred one. He’s insecure about his appearance, but with you, he feels a bit more at ease. Sometimes, he’ll even catch his reflection with you in a window, seeing the contrast and finding a strange peace, knowing you accept him fully—scars, darkness, and all.

Edward Nigma aka. The Riddler

- When you confess your feelings to Edward, he’s taken aback, blinking in surprise before a smirk forms on his face. He immediately assumes you must be drawn to his intellect, as he sees himself as the ultimate puzzle. After the initial shock, he responds with a playful, “I knew you would eventually fall for my genius.” But there’s a genuine glint of excitement in his eyes, and you know he’s truly thrilled.

- Edward loves to impress you with his intellect, often challenging you with riddles or complex games he creates just for you. If you manage to solve his puzzles, it only makes him admire you more. There’s a playful arrogance in the way he’ll lean over your shoulder and whisper, “I didn’t make it that easy, did I?”

- Being with him means you’re his partner in crime (literally and figuratively), and he values your opinion on his schemes. He loves the idea of two minds working together and enjoys discussing plans with you, carefully considering any clever ideas you bring to the table. To him, you’re a rare equal, someone who can match him mentally—a compliment he doesn’t give lightly.

- Edward’s affection is quirky and, at times, even a bit competitive. He enjoys subtle one-upmanship with you, and if you can outsmart him, he’s surprisingly delighted, showing a rare sense of pride in your intelligence. He even begins to share details of his most elaborate plans, trusting you with things he wouldn’t tell a soul.

- His protectiveness comes in the form of setting traps and riddles to keep you safe. If anyone so much as thinks of harming you, they’re met with a labyrinthine trap or a series of riddles that they’ll struggle to solve. It’s his way of keeping you out of danger, knowing that his “defenses” will thwart anyone who poses a threat to you.

- Edward loves leaving you little riddles and coded messages to find, each with a hint of affection or admiration hidden inside. Whether he’s planning a date or just wanting to make you smile, he’ll slip a puzzle into your daily routine, and your clever responses only make him fall harder for you.

- Though he’s not the most emotionally open, Edward surprises himself by genuinely enjoying the softer moments with you. Whether it’s a quiet evening where you’re both reading or analyzing mysteries, he feels more at ease than he ever has. It’s new territory for him, but he cherishes every moment—even if he’ll rarely admit it outright.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- When you confess your feelings to Oswald, he’s absolutely shocked, and he stammers for a moment. Used to people being interested in him only for his power and status, he’s genuinely moved by your feelings. He adjusts his suit with a confident flourish, but it’s clear he’s flattered, his eyes softening as he says, “You…really mean that?”

- Oswald is incredibly attentive and chivalrous toward you. He’s always quick to hold doors, pull out chairs, and offer his arm with a refined yet protective air. He adores treating you to the finest Gotham has to offer—luxury dinners, elegant galas, and private rooms in the Iceberg Lounge where it’s just the two of you.

- When he’s with you, Oswald can’t help but show off his power and influence. He’ll make sure you’re treated like royalty everywhere you go, and if anyone disrespects you, they’ll face his wrath. There’s nothing he won’t do to protect you, whether it’s using his connections or intimidating someone into compliance.

- He’s deeply proud of having you by his side, often flaunting your relationship publicly as a way of reminding others of his newfound joy. Though he’s a ruthless criminal, he feels a sense of pride and warmth in being with someone who loves him for who he truly is. In his own way, he strives to be worthy of you.

- Oswald has a softer, more vulnerable side that only you get to see. When he’s not putting on his “Penguin” persona, he opens up about his difficult past and insecurities, grateful to have someone who listens without judgment. He’s deeply grateful for your presence in his life, even if he has trouble expressing it directly.

- Oswald loves to spoil you with extravagant gifts, from rare jewelry to designer clothes. He takes great pride in watching you wear something he picked out, and he’ll always remind you, “Only the best for my love.” It’s his way of showing affection and devotion, compensating for what he lacks in typical romantic expression.

- If you’re ever threatened, Oswald’s protectiveness skyrockets. He’s not afraid to use his network of henchmen and connections to make sure you’re safe, even if it means crossing dangerous lines. Though he’s often ruthless, there’s a soft, fierce loyalty when it comes to you, and he’ll do anything to ensure you’re untouchable in Gotham’s treacherous world.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[nxtaliaistyping]

Batrogues | p links

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

nsfw 18+, part two here

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Scarecrow:

He's never gonna miss an opportunity to put you in your place.

Fucking him in his shitty car outside Arkham Asylum/Gotham University

If he can't fear gas you, this is the next best thing.

Fave way to fuck you, loves the slight fear in your eyes.

Something about seeing you in the sluttiest skirts really does it for him.

Black Mask:

who says he can't be nice to his favorite girl?

Your place with him.

He loves hair pulling

Makes you send him recordings of yourself like this for his entertainment.

To be his top doll, you have to earn it.

The Riddler:

When you can't solve his riddles </3 (he isn't completely heartless, be grateful you're getting something)

De-stressing him after a long day

Playing with your pussy when he wants to think

Choking you during sex is his guilty pleasure

For when you're a very very good girl

Two-face:

Either Harvey was gonna fuck you real gentle, or Harv was gonna have his way with you. The coin landed on the scarred side </3

Always wants to touch you, even when you're both out driving

Harvey hates to punish you, but it's a necessity.

White lingerie is always gonna be his weakness.

Early mornings are better with you.

Harley Quinn:

She loves mood lighting, makes your pussy look all the more inviting

Thinks you just look so much cuter with a leash!

You two are bumping pussies every chance you get.

Both of you take it in turns to use the strap <3

If there's one thing Harley is gonna do, it's use her tongue.

Poison Ivy:

She takes it slow with you at the start.

Sex toys are perhaps the only worthwhile thing mankind made.

Wants you to ride her, to take what you need.

She's a tits > ass girl <3

Be a good girl and eat her out.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨

[arjudy224]

Gotham is an environmental NIGHTMARE⚠️

This may be a really niche topic, but my degree is currently in Environmental science, so this is on my mind constantly.

Think about it:

The Joker is constantly messing with the air quality with his "laughing gas".

Poison Ivy's pheromones are definitely going to end up in the water supply.

Killer Croc lives in the sewers? Imagine having to deal with a sewer emergency and your boss goes "Dammit Waylon. Again?"

He's not even the only person who lives in the sewers canonically.

Bruce Wayne is constantly flying private. Don't even get me started on Batman and the Justice Leagues carbon emissions...

The Joker is constantly crashing planes/ cars into Gotham Harbor. You know that water is polluted beyond repair. Imagine having Aquaman step in because all the fish are in Gotham are dying...

Not to mention, Batman's rogues are constantly poisoning that water supply.

The Rogues' are also poisoning themselves by working out of old abandoned buildings that are riddled with asbestos....

On the topic of my girl Poison Ivy...

Can you imagine having this woman in class? Freshman year she teaches the hardest intro level botany course offered. You spend every week going to her office hours hoping to pass her class, then a decade later she is bullying you for not remembering the exact equation for photosynthesis while you clean up the mess SHE MADE. The drama.

Might write a fan fic about this in the next couple months. Comment if you would be interested!

Edit: I started writing a fic similar to this called The Intern if y’all are interested! Check it out!

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

BUT, I LOVE IVY.

( 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖨𝖫𝖤𝖱𝖲 ) !?

pairings ⸺Poison Ivy x Batsis! Fem! Reader

(Slight) Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ When you left home, your whole life began to take on color. It wasn't an immediate change, more like those afternoons when the sun sets slowly, painting the walls with a golden light. You didn’t have a great job, you were barely getting by with what you earned, and the apartment you found had more cracks than solid walls. But somehow, none of that seemed to matter.

What filled you was freedom, that new feeling of not owing anyone an explanation. And then, there was her. Pamela, with her easy laughter and restless gaze that always seemed to be searching for something, found you. You didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, she became the center of your small universe.

You didn’t need anything else. Her gestures filled the voids, her presence taught you to enjoy the silences. She wasn’t perfect, nor did she pretend to be. And maybe that’s what captivated you, that sincerity she had when she let her words fall, without disguising them. Life wasn’t easy, but with Pamela, the complications seemed less important, as if the chaos in which you lived became a soft melody, one you only understood when she was near.

After all, you were free, and you had her. And that, you thought, was enough.

warnings ⸺ Fluff, Girls Kissing, Dark Themes, Dead,Religion, murdering, Disturbing Content, Discrimination, Street Fights, Suicide, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, NSFW, Sexual Content, Smut, Addiction, Trauma, Phobias.

A/N ── Here’s a headcanon of Ivy x S/O because I saw that you liked it, and since things are going to take a darker turn in the next part of Silly Little Bat, there won’t be time for romance and all that, just pure angst. This is a little gift for all your support, and thank you for encouraging me. Marceline loves you ♡

Two hearts on the floor.

One Mine,

Both Yours ♡

When you and Pamela met, you had just left the nest and were trying to become independent with trembling hands but a heart full of enthusiasm. You had landed a job at a nightclub, Super Babes, where the owner, after examining you closely, insisted that you looked like Batgirl. Without asking many questions, you found yourself wrapped in a cape and tight mask. "It's the uniform," he told you with a smile that tried to be convincing. "You'll get used to it."

What you didn't get used to were the long nights, the incredibly uncomfortable heels, and the salary that barely covered rent. No matter how kind your coworkers were and how punctual the boss was with paychecks, the math didn’t lie: sooner or later, you were going to fall behind on rent. The landlord, a man with a furtive gaze and hands always too busy on his belt, only heightened the feeling of suffocation.

The solution came with the idea of finding a roommate. After a couple of failed encounters with people who smelled like trouble or, at best, minor inconveniences, Pamela appeared.

The door opened, and she stepped in with the same calm one has when entering a private garden. She was somewhere between twenty and thirty, although, according to her, "she had just recently been reborn." When she said that, you took it as a metaphor. Later, you would realize that with Pamela, it was almost never about metaphors.

"I like the place" she said, surveying the tiny living room with a smile that seemed charmingly sincere to you.

"It has a view of the... street" you replied, trying to compensate for the lack of natural light with your enthusiasm.

She laughed, and you noticed she had an easy laugh, the kind that makes you feel comfortable instantly. Pamela wasn’t the first to respond to the ad, but she was the first decent person. And also the first to make you feel those butterflies you thought were reserved for novels.

Days passed, and gradually, what began as a quiet coexistence transformed into something more. The work nights became less burdensome when you knew that returning home would mean finding Pamela there, with a cup of hot tea in hand and some ironic observation about life. Her voice, her gestures, began to blend into your routine, and the space between you filled with something neither dared to name.

You discovered several things about her, but never in the order you would have expected. It was like finding a novel written on scattered papers, without a clear beginning and too many endings. You learned about her deaths, yes, those that left her with invisible but deep scars, caused by the betrayal of those she once called companions and, more cruelly, by human hands, those fragile hands that paradoxically carried infinite violence. She confessed to you that this life, the one she shared with you, would be her last. There would be no more resurrections, no more spectacular rebirths under fiery skies or endless vines. This life, she said, she wanted simple, almost vulgar: to be an average citizen, nothing more, nothing less.

And then it was her turn. She also learned things about you. Not everything, of course, but enough to look beyond your sporadic smiles. She knew, for example, that you had been abandoned by your adoptive family, left adrift in a house too big for your small hands. She knew about your degrees, yes, those that hung on the walls like empty trophies. She knew about your skills, those that alternated between the delicate and the violent: the dexterity of your hands, the music that flowed from your fingers, and the echo of combat that marked your skin like a second score. She also knew about your unusual desire: you wanted a bat as a pet, something as solitary as you, something that didn’t need the sun to live. And above all, she knew you didn’t want children, never, because your childhood had been too long a scar, one you didn’t wish to replicate in another life.

You both shared secrets like one drops breadcrumbs in the forest, knowing that in the end, neither would seek the way back.

Summer arrived, bringing with it a warmth on Gotham’s nights that didn’t seem to belong. As if the city, always shrouded in shadows, allowed for a moment the air to be filled with laughter and light-hearted jokes. You went for walks in the park, trying to match your pace to hers while the world continued its course around you, oblivious to the little bubble that seemed to envelop you when you were with Pamela.

But the spell broke, as it often did, abruptly. Two boys crossing the opposite path looked at you with that disdain that can only be understood from ignorance. “Look, more generic lesbians” one said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Damn, the other one looks like her sugar baby." Your heart sank with a dull thud, an echo of old fears that you could never quite bury.

Pamela noticed instantly, her attention as subtle and sharp as leaves in the wind. Without saying anything, she took your hand with a firmness that held you, not just physically, but emotionally. Her smile appeared, scornful, a gesture stronger than any word. She knew, she had always known, that you weren’t quite used to dating girls, much less with boys looking on from their comfortable blindness. She understood that every stranger's glance was for you an ajar door to the past, to that corner where doubts flourished like weeds.

But for Pamela, weeds were just another form of life. And with a gentle flick of her fingers, vines surged from the ground like green serpents, wrapping around the boys' feet and dragging them away without fuss, as if the very earth were reclaiming them.

"Wow" she said with a barely perceptible smile as she guided you toward a nearby ice cream cart.

She bought you an ice cream, one of those ridiculously themed ones, a "bat-cream" that seemed a gentle mockery of the bat that hovered over your life. And as you licked it distractedly, you felt the pressure in your chest slowly fade, swept away by the sweet taste and the comforting sensation of her hand still intertwined with yours.

Christmas was a revelation. Not because it was a holiday in itself— you had always been indifferent to those blinking lights and persistent carols— but because it was the first time you truly felt that love was not merely a concept written in books or whispered in songs, but something you could touch, almost feel, in every little gesture of Pamela, or rather, Pam, or Ivy, as she insisted you call her. And you, with that mix of disbelief and happiness that overwhelmed you, discovered in her something you struggled to find anywhere else in the world: refuge.

That Christmas also came with a kind of unexpected family. Harleen, who had recently left behind the clown prince of crime, appeared one afternoon like a whirlwind of laughter and jokes, treating you like a little sister from the very first moment. "You know, I had a hyena, did I tell you? I named it Bruce. After the hot playboy in the magazines. Is he your dad? You have to introduce me!" she said amidst laughter, and the remark drew a chuckle from you. There was something ironic and sweet about the most chaotic woman in Gotham making those kinds of absurd connections.

Selina was different. Her arrival was stealthy, like the shadow cast by a feline before it strikes, but there was no attack. On the contrary, from the moment she crossed the threshold, she looked at you with an almost maternal softness. "I met your mother," she said at some point during the night while cradling a glass of wine, and you could barely process those words. You didn’t ask more; it wasn’t necessary. In that gaze, you knew everything. Selina adopted you without saying it, with that blend of authority and tenderness that only she could conjure.

And then there was Pamela. Your Pam. Your Ivy. She was the center around which everything revolved. In those cold, bright days, everything in her presence felt perfect, a secret choreography only you could understand. She would kiss you before you left for work, always soft but with the promise of something more, something waiting for your return. And when you came back, there she was, dinner ready, always with a sermon on the wonders of protein and how vicious herbivores were. "They're worse than carnivores" she insisted with a smirk. "Grass-eaters are no better than hunters. Just trust me."

She stayed with you through every emotional crisis without fuss, without grand dramatic gestures; she simply was, and her presence made the shadows dissipate, as if her mere existence in your life was enough to bring order to your internal chaos. And she, for her part, found you fascinating. She adored you, in a way that was almost reverential, as if you were that little Bat she never thought she would love. She called you that, "my Bat," with a mix of tenderness and mischief. She knew you were small, tiny, fragile in appearance, but beneath that shy surface, she found something that intrigued her, a strength that made you unique in her eyes.

"I love you" she told you one night as she watched you from across the room, a barely formed smile on her lips. "You're so shy... but there's something in you that could change the world if you set your mind to it." And it wasn’t an empty declaration. She, more than anyone, could see what others didn’t.

Pamela didn’t just adore your shyness. She adored you, in all your forms, in your doubts, in your small acts of bravery, in every instance you faced the world and returned to her, seeking refuge.

Despite the happiness, Gotham was not always a kind place. During an outing to a music festival, the two of you became the subject of uncomfortable stares and whispers behind your backs.

However, those moments of mockery were followed by nights of hugs and laughter on the sofa, where you both sat together watching movies while you tried to find comfort in the stories of heroines who saved the world.

Life went on, and although there were moments of joy, there was something in the air that was changing. When you turned 19, you began to feel restless. One night, you went out to work, as always, with your heart full of love for Pamela and the promise of a future together. But that night, everything changed. The city was dark, and the fog seemed to have a life of its own, wrapping around you in its icy embrace.

Days and weeks passed. Pamela tried to contact you, but there were no signs of you. Desperate, she began searching for you all over Gotham, consulting her friends, Harleen and Selina. However, each attempt to find you turned into frustration and anger.

When things grew darker, Pamela became hysterical. The idea of losing you consumed her mind. But her methods were aggressive, and every lead she followed turned into a dead end.

One night, in her frenzy, Pamela confronted Batgirl, better known to you as Cassandra Cain, trying to get answers. But her erratic behavior led Batgirl to take drastic measures, and without knowing that Pamela was only searching for her sister, she put her in Arkham. The doors closed behind her, and as she fought against anxiety, the question kept echoing in her mind: where were you?

Fate had played a cruel card. While Pamela faced her own prison, you remained lost somewhere in Gotham, the echo of her name resonating in your mind like a siren's song you could not answer.

On Monday night, there was something different, a pause in the routine that allowed you to breathe more slowly. You had finished early, which was almost a luxury in Gotham. Sitting on the couch, with a forgotten tea on the table and a movie that Harleen had recommended—a romantic comedy directed by Jamie Babbit—you let yourself get carried away by the light dialogue, although you remembered the name of the director more than the plot itself. The dark green nightgown you had found at the bottom of the drawer seemed like the perfect choice for that night of respite, an old lace that had survived the test of time, as if its wear carried with it a hint of nostalgia.

"You dressed to tease me" Pamela had once said, half-laughing and half-serious, when she saw you in that garment that, in her eyes, had a spell to it. The truth was that you hadn’t planned it; that night you just wanted to be comfortable, to sink into the softness of the couch and the lethargy of the movie, but Ivy's words always lingered in the air, as if she knew something that you barely sensed.

You were halfway through the movie when you heard the familiar sound of the door opening. Ivy walked in, and the weariness on her shoulders was visible from the threshold. She moved with that natural elegance she had, but there was something heavier in her stride. Then you saw it, the bruise that hinted at her cheek, diffuse, like a shadow that had misplaced itself. You knew what it meant: another day in Gotham, another confrontation, another battle against something or someone. And yet, she said nothing, as if the pain were part of the atmosphere, something mundane that didn’t deserve to be named.

"Tough day?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence she had brought with her. Pamela didn’t respond immediately. She let herself fall beside you on the couch, her warmth enveloping you instantly. Her eyes, always green and alive, roamed you from head to toe, a spark ignited at the corner of her lips.

"Not more than usual," she finally murmured, with that mixture of weariness and desire you recognized so well. "But you... you make everything feel better." Her fingers brushed the edge of your nightgown, just a gesture, but enough to change the tone of everything in the room.

The bruise on her cheek did not diminish her strength in the slightest. On the contrary, there was something in that small imperfection that made her seem even closer, more tangible, as if for a moment, the green goddess she was had allowed herself to be human too. Her fingers slid down your arm, soft, but with the firmness you always knew would come, like vines seeking to wrap around every corner. The air grew dense, and the movie became a distant murmur, lost among the shadows of the room.

"Do you know you drive me crazy with that nightgown?" she said, leaning toward you, her voice low and husky, as if dragging behind it the echo of a desire she had been holding back all day.

"Like this?" you replied, trying to sound innocent, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Her hands were already on your waist, drawing slow circles, and the skin under the lace seemed to awaken at the touch, as if that caress were an order your body could not refuse.

Pamela smiled at you, that smile she reserved only for moments like this, intimate, private, where the masks fell away and what remained was just the shared desire. She leaned you toward her, and her warm breath mingled with yours, a barely perceptible space between both bodies.

The bruise on her cheek, the battles of the day, all of that faded when her lips touched yours, soft but urgent, as if in that kiss she wanted to reclaim lost time, the hours when she hadn’t had you close. Her hands moved with an almost mathematical precision, knowing exactly where to touch, where to press, how to make every inch of your skin respond to her will.

"You don’t know how much I needed this" she whispered against your mouth, her voice laden with a vulnerability she didn’t often show. And you, tangled in her warmth, in the weight of her body against yours, knew there was no place in the world you would rather be.

The green nightgown had fallen into oblivion, like words fall away when what matters is the language of bodies, that secret language that is spoken without being said. The whole world reduced to the space you shared, to the softness of her fingers gliding with deliberate slowness, as if each touch were a note lingering in the air. The movie, the hours passed, the murmur of Gotham outside, all dissolved into the present, into the synchronized breathing you shared, into the soft moan escaping your lips when her hands found you.

Pamela knew how to move in your body like someone walking in a garden that belongs to her; every touch was a root seeking fertile ground, every kiss, the rain awakening the dormant within you. Her lips found yours at the same rhythm as her fingers, now beyond any fabric, exploring that intimate space only she knew, that only she was allowed to discover. There was no hurry in her movements, because time, in those moments, always played in favor. Each caress, each calculated pressure, was as if she were tracing an invisible map over your skin, and you, lost and found in her hands, could only respond with the silent surrender of one who neither knows nor wants to resist.

Your legs, slightly apart, invited her to continue, to mark her territory in every corner of your body. The soft brush of her fingers on your swollen lips felt like a promise, a promise you knew she would keep, and your hands, now on her neck, tangled in her red hair, were a call to the depths, to that place where words could not follow. And when her lips parted from yours, just for a second, to gaze at you with that mix of desire and devotion, you knew that in that look was everything you needed to understand.

"Doctor Isley..." you whispered, and in the echo of that name, in the way you pronounced it, there was a surrender she recognized immediately. The smile that appeared on her lips was almost feline, satisfied, as if with that title you gave her something more than your body; you gave her the power to be whoever she wanted to be for you.

"Oh~ I like that," she replied, her voice husky, laden with desire, as her fingers, skillful and sure, began to move with exquisite precision over your core. Each touch, a small fire, each pressure, a promise fulfilled.

The air around you grew denser, as if the heat between you could ignite the room. Your breaths, ragged, mingled with whispers you no longer recognized as yours. You were an extension of her, and she of you, two bodies that recognized each other, that knew exactly how to find each other, how to lose themselves in one another without fear.

Pamela, with her lips tracing your neck, with her warm breath sending shivers down your skin, disarmed you with the ease of someone who has learned to read your silences, to understand your needs before you even did. And you, in that surrender, in that slow but inevitable dance, felt safe.

Her lips, soft as the murmur of leaves in the wind, ventured across your skin, tracing a secret map where each kiss was a promise being fulfilled, slowly, without haste. Each caress, each brush, was a silent pact between two souls that had found each other amid the vast loneliness of Gotham. And you, surrendered, were no more than a whisper in her hands, a murmur that was born and died between her fingers, between her lips.

Pamela descended slowly, with a devotion that made you tremble, her lips drawing invisible paths, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation that coursed through you entirely. There was no urgency in her movements, only a deep love manifesting in every kiss, in every contact that seemed to say: here I am, and here I will stay. Her tongue, like an echo of her soul, found your core, that hidden place you barely knew yourself, and caressed it with the precision of one who knows every secret of your body.

The first touch was soft, almost reverent, like someone caressing a flower that has just opened to the sun. Your legs opened in an invitation that needed no words, and Pamela, with the tenderness she always had, let her mouth delve into you, exploring with infinite patience. Her tongue, which seemed to paint entire landscapes on your skin, touched you where you needed it most, with that mix of desire and tenderness only she could offer.

Every movement was a symphony, a perfect note resonating in every fiber of your being. Your body, still inexperienced in that type of pleasure, responded with little spasms, as if you were learning to feel for the first time. And amid that joy, amid the sighs and tremors, there was something deeper, something beyond desire: a fondness that enveloped everything, a certainty that in those moments you were hers, and she, without saying it, also belonged to you.

Pamela was not rushing; she knew true pleasure was not just about the body but the soul connecting in those moments of deep connection. Each time her tongue sank into you, each time her lips brushed your skin, you felt something beyond physical pleasure: you felt the love of a woman who knew you, who cared for you, and who, in that moment, loved you in a way you had never experienced before.

Your hands, trembling, clutched at her hair, as if seeking to anchor yourself to reality amid that sea of sensations. And as the rhythm of her caresses increased, as the pleasure grew within you, you knew that in that instant there was nothing else in the world. Just you, just her, and the love unfolding in whispers and soft moans.

It wasn’t just her tongue making you tremble; it wasn’t just the pleasure coursing through you in increasingly intense waves. It was the way she looked at you between each kiss, as if you were the only thing that truly mattered.

Your body shook, and the world faded away in a silent explosion, a cascade of sensations enveloping you completely. There were no words, just the echo of your ragged breathing and the warmth of her mouth still on you, claiming every part of that climax that overflowed you. Pamela, attentive, savored your ecstasy with the same devotion that had brought you there, collecting every little tremor, every sigh that escaped your lips.

Her eyes looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness, and you, with your heart still racing, knew that this was the closest thing to a confession of love you could have in that moment. Pamela loved you in that shared silence, in the brush of her skin against yours, in the way her tongue had traced a path to the deepest part of you.

But you couldn’t let the moment end just in your satisfaction. With a slow, almost feline movement, you slid between her arms and gently pushed her onto the couch, your hands already seeking the curve of her waist, the firmness of her hips. Pam looked at you with that gaze of hers, always so confident, but in her green eyes, there was a spark of expectation. She knew what was coming and accepted it with the same tranquility with which nature receives the rain.

Without saying a word, your lips found hers in a deep kiss, filled with that mix of gratitude and desire that now consumed you. Your hands roamed her body, learning her contours, every nook, every curve she allowed you to discover. You moved slowly, following the trail her lips had left on you before, but this time it was your turn to make her tremble, to return everything she had given you.

Your fingers glided over her soft skin, slowly stripping her of any barrier that remained between you. And when your lips reached her core, you paused for a moment, just to look at her, to see how her eyes closed with anticipation, how her lips parted in a sigh you already knew. Nothing more was needed than that gesture. You knew, in that instant, that she too surrendered to you, that she too was giving you something deeper than her body.

You began with a softness you knew she would appreciate. Your lips and your tongue traced slow paths, circles that became more and more precise, as you listened to her little moans, feeling how her body relaxed under your caresses. There was no hurry. The only thing that mattered was that moment, the space between you filled with whispers and shared breaths.

Pamela arched her back, her fingers tangled in your hair, and in that gesture, in the tension of her body, you knew you were bringing her closer to her own limit. And though there were no words, though the silence was only broken by her sighs, love was there, in every touch, in every slow movement of your tongue that made her tremble more and more.

"Y/n..." her voice was barely a whisper, as if saying your name were the only thing she could do at that moment. You needed nothing more. It was the signal you had been waiting for, the last vestige of control she was handing over to you, trusting, surrendering.

You continued, deeper, slower, taking her to that place where words no longer made sense, until finally, with a tremor that coursed through her entire body, Pamela let herself go. Her breathing became erratic, her back arched one last time, and then, amid that silent explosion they shared, you knew that she too had arrived.

When you finally pulled away, you slowly moved up, leaving kisses on her still warm skin, until you reached her face. She looked at you with that tenderness she always had, and without needing to say it, she made you understand that in that instant, in that space of love and pleasure, it was just you and her.

Just you and her in the world.

A/N ─── Bro, it’s super long, don’t mess with me 😭. It’s my first sapphic smut, have some patience! Honestly, I could have made it longer, but I was in panic mode like “Is this too much already?” and I freaked out, haha. This is my little gift for those who ship Poison Ivy x Reader (Silly Little Bat) because, spoiler alert, something not-so-nice is coming soon 👀💔. So enjoy while you can, because things are about to get intense... you better thank me! 😅

Don’t forget, if you want to request something, the shop is open!

Take a bath!

[amphibiahawks321]

M!Reader : So question, is it actually true that plants can get happy and healthier if you talk and compliment them?

Poison ivy : Chuckles why of course, plants need their daily compliments too you know–

[Y/N walks up to Ivy and kiss her cheek and wraps his arms around her waist]

M!Reader : You look so gorgeous today!

Poison Ivy : ......

[She immediately wraps her arms around Y/N's neck]

Poison ivy : you sly fox~

[lacy-oh-lacy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒄𝒔

⋆ 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝑰𝒗𝒚 & 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂 x Reader | 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚

-Harley’s so over the top, she's pulling out her best grand romantic gestures from day one

-but she's also famously “crazy”, so how seriously are you even meant to take it when she starts declaring her love for you like she's a romcom protagonist and not a literal supervillain?

-Well, she takes it deadly seriously, there's a blurred line between a crush and suffocating devotion for Harley

-Emotions hit her hard and escalate fast, and suddenly she's all over you, she's gotta be the clingiest girl in Gotham and you’re not even dating

-Whether it's inviting herself to your home or hugging you out of the blue. Boundaries? Never heard of them

-She’s lovesick, some people might even say she doesn't have crushes, she has victims, but she truly would do almost anything to make you happy

-Her real victims are the people on your bad side, them and anyone who could take you away from her. If you try to date someone else while she has a crush on you, god bless their soul, you’re never seeing them again

-In her delusional brain it's only a matter of time until you feel the same way, but if that's not in the cards, don't worry because she may very well lose interest in you as suddenly as she gained it

𝑰𝒗𝒚

-As a misanthrope, Ivy hates the fact that she has a crush on you, a plain old human. She's disappointed in herself honestly

-Though a master of seduction and manipulation, she has no intention of using such tactics on you, or pursuing you at all for that matter

-More often than not she’s just as cold and standoffish with you as she is with the rest of the world but if you still treat her with decency despite that she's gonna fall for you 10x harder

-She keeps her feelings under lock and key but actions speak louder than words, and the non-verbal kindness she shows you speaks volumes

-Like, again, she’s such a misanthrope and yet she's saving your life, comforting you when you're down, forgiving you for faults that would sign someone else’s death warrant…

-She knows she should just stay far away from you since she doesn't want to deal with her feelings but she can't bring herself to do that either

-especially if you need her in some way, for a villain she really can't resist a damsel in distress

-Basically, she’s simultaneously the least likely of the three to confess her feelings, and also the biggest simp

𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂

-Selina’s seductive charm is amped up to eleven around you, you could cut the sexual tension with a batarang

-but don't let your chemistry disarm you, because she’d betray you in a second to further her own ends

-not that she’d ever let something truly bad happen to you, she is much more protective than she lets on

-She’s good at playing it cool like that, you're never quite sure where you stand with her but you know you're getting special treatment

-She’s not a piner, she doesn't miss you when you're not around… but that doesn't mean you're not on her mind, more often than she’d willingly admit actually

-She’s slow to trust and even as she's falling for you she's testing you, she wants to make sure you're worth it

-and once she knows that you are, she is down atrociously bad, you wouldn't know it with how smooth she acts but this woman would follow you through hell

-She likes playing games, she likes the chase, but she also wants to seal the deal, she's used to taking getting what she wants and it shows

[hxney-lemcn]

Affections + First Kiss — General! Scarecrow, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman x gn! reader

summery: affection and first kiss headcanons.

tw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), mentions of toxic dynamics

a/n: I've never wrote headcanons for multiple characters in one thing before, so enjoy! I love them all.

wc: 2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Scarecrow

❥Jonathan wasn’t used to a kind touch. Being bullied growing up, being beaten by the bat. No, all he knew was the harsh touch of a fist. The relentless shoves. The purpling of bruises that always showed after. The red blood that would drip from his nose. The burning hatred that steadily grew towards those who wronged him.

❥So when you came into his life, he would flinch if you raised a hand. He would unconsciously back away. The warmth in his heart that you stirred was unusual to him, a feeling he’s never felt towards anyone. He was used to the bitterness after an interaction, not longing. 

❥You eased him into it. Only when you two started dating did he ever think twice about your touch. He knew you held back your affections. He watched you lift a hand up, only to bring it back down to your side. And to Jon, that meant the world. He felt relief when you didn’t push him into uncomfortable territory, and he respected you all the more for it.

❥Although a part of him wished you would hold him. Touch him. He wondered if your skin felt as soft as it looked. Though he also feared that your touch would sting, and the comfort you brought would be no more. No, he would never reach out first.

❥Starting out slow, he let you hold his shoulder. No matter how careful you’ve been for however long, you slipped slightly. It was a gesture not many think twice about. Holding onto someone's shoulder as you look over them, holding onto them for balance. It was only when you felt him tense under you, his ramblings pausing, that you realized your mistake. Yet, Jon had only reassured you that you did nothing wrong. 

❥Having realized that Jon seemed to open your touch, you continued. Lightly brushing your hands, shoulder touches, even just sitting closer. It was like you were single handedly rewiring Jon’s brain, teaching him that not all touch hurts. That he too deserves a kind hand. The flinching had dulled, and he would even look forward to you being near him. 

❥So when you finally got to kiss him? He was a dead man. You got him hook line and sinker. I hope you weren’t expecting to leave him any time soon, because after you opened him into a world of warm affection, he doesn’t want to let go. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Riddler

❥Touch is a big no no. Similar to Jonathan, Edward had been bullied from a young age. Teased and ridiculed, shoved and hit. If not from his peers, then from his own father. His world was cruel for as long as he could remember. In fact, his brain started to warp, perceiving the hits as a form of love, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

❥Edward Nygma is a touch starved man. He longs for the comforts others seem to get so seamlessly. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone touching him. Tap his shoulder if you dare.

❥You were no different, at first. You quickly caught on to his distaste of touch when he reprimanded someone for getting a little too friendly with him. But you managed to weasel your way into his estranged heart. With how respectful and kind you were, he quickly found himself ensnared with your affection. Even hands free you managed to boost his ego and make him feel, should he dare say, loved for. You gave him praise that he had longed for, which earned you a seat right by his side.

❥It was also partly to keep a closer eye on you. Part of him preened at your praise, and another was weary. Why were you so kind? He was a well known criminal, he knew better than to just believe you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Y’know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

❥I honestly don’t know how you deal with it. He always tries to catch you off guard with a riddle or puzzle. He pushes you away by ridiculing you and belittling you. Yet you won’t stop. You keep spilling his praises, and it’s so baffling to him. Yes, he is the smartest man in the world, but you managed to become a riddle. Good luck now.

❥When you first touched him, it was an innocent hug. He had managed to pull off a heist and got away from Batman without a scratch! Of course he had no doubts about his success, you didn’t either. When he got back to the hideout, you were clapping while singing his praises. Edward felt on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his veins. When your arms wrapped around him, your scent clouding his thoughts, your warmth leaching into him, he found himself reciprocating.

❥Now, whether your dating or you’re just friends, it matters little to the green clad man. You had given him a taste of a touch he’s always longed for. And he realized that he’s more comfortable around you than he’d like to admit. He never reaches out first, but he’ll never turn you down if you want to hold his arm. 

❥His teasing towards you turns lighter, just as his heart feels. So when you finally seal the deal with a kiss, he’ll make sure you never slip through his fingers. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harley Quinn

❥She will smother you with affection right out the bat. Hugs, hand holding, kisses, you name it. You don’t even have to date her for her to leave a smooch on your lips. Harley Quinn easily trusts people, and you’re no exception. She finds comfort in touch, so why should she deny herself it? She also finds it expresses her genuine affection for you in ways she couldn’t verbalize. 

❥If you don’t like PDA, please tell her right away. She doesn’t understand it, I mean why wouldn’t you want to show your love to the world? But she also doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you wanna keep it behind closed doors, she’ll try her best. But don’t be too surprised if she sneaks in a little smooch or hug if no one’s looking.

❥Harley Quinn is one of the most affectionate rogues out there. But it’s not always sunshine and rainbows with her. She had been in a seriously abusive relationship, and you have to help her remember that she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around you. That no matter the argument, you won’t raise your hand to strike her. It takes her a long time to come out of that headspace, if ever. It’s a good thing you’re by her side to help coax her into healthier practices. 

❥If we want to get a little darker, Harley may try to treat you like the Joker treated her. It’s scary to see her go from bubbly to dark. Her features twisted into a wicked sneer as she asks that you’ll never leave her. That no matter what, you’ll always love her. During these moments, you gotta stand up for yourself. She’s trying to gain a sense of control she never felt in her previous relationship, and you have to make her snap out of it. When she comes to and realizes what she just did, the look of utter terror in her eyes is the most heart wrenching thing. She’ll sob, pleading that she didn’t mean to, that she never wanted you to go through that, that she’s terrified of becoming him.

❥Please hug her, kiss her, squeeze her gently. She loves it. All Harley wants is to be loved and to love, and getting affection shows her how genuine you are and is the biggest comfort for her. Feeling your warmth, feeling the softness of your skin, it brings her peace. 

❥The first time you made the first move to kiss Harley, she nearly did a backflip. Her little sugar plum made the first move! I hope you didn’t have anything planned, because Harley won’t let you go for the rest of the day.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Poison Ivy

❥I’m not sure how you weren’t just killed or turned into one of her goons. She’s not one for humanity. She keeps a sharp eye on those who dare tread into her territory. There’s no way to beat around it. She drugs you, finding out what your true intentions are. It has to be something she deems worthy enough to keep you around. She barely puts up with Harley as it is. 

❥Once you gain your free will again, you have to continuously prove your loyalty. Of course she can guarantee it herself if she has to, but you’ve managed to catch her eye. So prove your worth to her, prove that her interest in you isn’t just a mistake. It will take a long time. She’s been wronged one too many times, and she won’t make that mistake again.

❥Even if you manage to gain her trust, she won’t drop her walls around you. Though she’s a bit nicer. Ivy knows that a person works better with praise, but she also means it deep down. She doesn’t say what she doesn’t mean, so don’t take her words for granted. Not that you really can when her perfume scent always seems to cloud your senses. 

❥You let Ivy make the first move when it comes to touch. For a seductress, she won’t touch you if she doesn’t have to. Not to mention the toxins that fill her blood. Who knew if one tap on her shoulder meant your certain doom…but maybe that was a bit of the thrill you loved when being by her side. Though you’ve seemed to find a small soft spot in her heart, right next to Harley Quinn. She wouldn’t tell you that though, best to leave you on your toes lest you get too comfortable. 

❥After going so long without a single touch from the green goddess, when she started playing with your hair, you found yourself seizing up. Ivy brushed her fingers through it so gently, yet all you could wonder is if it was finally over. If she grew bored of you, or if she started to find you bothersome. But her gentle reassurances lulled you. Her warm voice and gentle hands relaxed you. It was then that you realized her affections for you ran deeper than she led on.

❥You’re first kiss was electrifying. That underlying thrill that your life was held in her hands. That she killed men with the very action she committed tenderly with you. Yet deep down you knew she wouldn’t hurt you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Catwoman 

❥It's not easy catching her attention. She won’t settle for less than perfection. She is catwoman after all, she has a reputation to uphold. So when she looked at you, and I mean really looked at you, she decided why not have a little fun? Whether you’re a villain, anti-hero, vigilante, or civilian, she’ll take time out of her busy schedule to drop by.

❥She likes to give mixed signals. It keeps you far enough for her to feel in control, yet it also satiates her hunger. She’ll lean in real close, only to grab something from behind you type of beat. She loves to watch you become a stuttering mess, but she doesn’t mind if you banter back. It’s all a part of the fun.

❥No matter how close you seem to get, you’re somehow still a mile away from Selina. She slips away from your affection without you even realizing it. She always turns the moment into a suggestive one. If she left it tender, then it would be too real. It takes time for her to warm up to you and really trust you.

❥If anything, the first kiss happens before anything truly tender. The kiss catches you both off guard, neither sure who started it. Selina tries to wrap it into something that doesn’t make her heart stutter. Tries to turn it suggestively like she always does, but with the way you tenderly hold her cheeks, she feels herself melt. Finally, she succumbs to these feelings you managed to stir within her, and she isn’t sure if she wants to thank you or curse you out. Maybe she’ll settle for a dinner, tab on you of course.

[urdreamydoodles]

Batman Villains x Fem!Reader

You are a criminal hiding under the role of a psychiatrist in Arkham

You introduces yourself as a new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, but beneath your professional facade, you're also a criminal with your own agenda. During your sessions with Gotham’s notorious villains, you forms twisted, romantic relationships with them.

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, The Riddler, Two-Face & The Penguin

Joker

- You introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist in Arkham, armed with degrees and a mask of professionalism, hiding your true nature beneath the surface. Your sessions with the Joker began with cautious probing, dancing around his mind like any other doctor would. But the moment his cold, dark eyes met yours, you both knew it was a game—one neither of you intended to lose.

- His smile, wide and unhinged, widened further each session as he slowly unraveled your façade. You found yourself intrigued by him in ways you weren’t supposed to be. The chaos he offered was intoxicating, his unpredictable mind a puzzle you craved to solve. And while you knew the risks, you couldn’t help but draw closer to his madness. In your second session, his laughter became personal, no longer mocking Arkham's walls but meant for you.

- Joker had a way of pulling you in, teasing out the criminal lurking beneath your skin. You weren’t just a doctor—you were a kindred spirit, someone who understood his twisted view of the world. He could see it in the glint of your eyes when you spoke to him about Gotham’s hypocrisy, about the system’s flaws. And one day, as you were closing your notebook, his voice cut through the air: "You’re not one of them, doc. You’re like me."

- Your heart raced, but you played it cool, chuckling softly as if you weren’t shaken to the core. From then on, your sessions turned into something more intimate. Conversations turned into whispered secrets, truths about your past crimes, the people you manipulated to rise in the criminal underworld. Joker reveled in it, seeing the darkness he knew you were hiding. He began to speak about you in ways that made your pulse quicken, about how you could rule Gotham together, throw the city into disarray with your combined intellect and chaos.

- The tipping point came when, during a particularly charged session, he reached across the table, his gloved fingers brushing yours. There was a promise in that touch, something raw and dangerous. The lines between doctor and patient blurred completely when he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a smear of red lipstick on your mouth. You didn’t pull away—you couldn’t. Instead, you let him pull you into his world of madness, where logic twisted into a wicked kind of love.

- After that day, it wasn’t just therapy anymore. You became his accomplice, helping him from the inside, pulling strings behind Arkham’s walls. And when he finally escaped, you were right there beside him, both of you laughing at the chaos you would unleash. You weren’t just the Joker’s psychiatrist—you were his queen of madness, his partner in crime, and Gotham was yours to play with.

Harley Quinn

- When you walked into Arkham as the new psychiatrist, you were immediately drawn to her. Harley Quinn, the infamous former doctor turned criminal, sat across from you, her playful smirk never faltering. But you knew better than to take her lightly. Behind her giggles and flirtations was a woman who had once been where you were, a professional undone by obsession. Little did Harley know, you had the same spark of madness within you, hidden under the guise of professionalism.

- Your sessions with Harley were like a dance, a back-and-forth of wit and insight. She would tease you about your job, mock the way you spoke in clinical terms, but you both knew she was testing you. You always answered with a smirk of your own, showing her that you weren’t as buttoned-up as you seemed. You weren’t just here to analyze her—you were here to connect, to peel back the layers of her mind because you saw yourself in her.

- One day, during a session, she leaned in close, her eyes flickering with interest. "You know, doc, you remind me of someone." Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial, and you knew she meant herself. You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I’ve heard that before." She narrowed her eyes, suddenly serious. "You ain’t like the others." And she was right. You weren’t.

- You started to let bits of your real self slip through, sharing small pieces of your criminal side with her. You knew she would understand, maybe even admire it. Harley watched you carefully as you spoke about the schemes you had been part of, the power you wielded under the radar. She loved it. And before long, your sessions were less about her and more about the connection between the two of you.

- The day she kissed you was a blur of impulsive passion. After a particularly heated exchange, Harley had grabbed your tie, yanking you toward her, your lips crashing together. There was no hesitation on your part, only a thrilling sense of liberation. You were no longer pretending to be the psychiatrist, and Harley wasn’t just your patient. You were equals, two criminals playing a dangerous game of love and power.

- From that moment on, you were inseparable. You used your position to smuggle things in for her, weapons and plans for her next big heist. Harley, in return, made you feel alive in a way no one else ever could. She saw your darkness and embraced it, encouraging you to step deeper into the life you had been hiding. You became her partner in crime, but unlike the Joker, you weren’t controlling her. You were both free in each other’s chaos, equals in madness.

- The day you helped her escape Arkham was the beginning of something wild. Together, you wreaked havoc on Gotham, her unpredictable energy and your calculated cunning making you an unstoppable duo. You were Harley’s new obsession, but it wasn’t one-sided. She was yours too. You weren’t just another doctor who fell for the wrong patient—you were a criminal mastermind who found the perfect match in Harley Quinn.

Poison Ivy

- You introduced yourself to Arkham as just another psychiatrist, another cog in the system. But from the moment you sat down across from her, the infamous Poison Ivy, you knew you were dealing with someone who could see through your façade. Her green eyes were sharp, watching you with a knowing look as you asked your initial questions. You were careful, though. You knew better than to underestimate a woman like her.

- Each session was a test, a game of wits between the two of you. Ivy wasn’t like the others—you couldn’t simply manipulate her or play into her weaknesses. She was strong, both mentally and physically, her connection to nature giving her a kind of power you admired. And she could sense something off about you, something that didn’t fit with the usual Arkham doctor. You were good at hiding it, but not good enough. "You’re not just a shrink, are you?" she asked one day, a sly smile playing at her lips.

- You leaned back, meeting her gaze evenly. "And you’re not just a criminal." It was an admission, a silent agreement that you were both more than you appeared. Ivy’s curiosity grew from that moment, and so did yours. She wasn’t just another patient to you—she was a woman who had taken control of her life, her body, and the world around her. You respected her, even admired her strength, something you had always craved for yourself.

- Slowly, your conversations turned into something more intimate. You shared pieces of your own life with her, your involvement in the criminal underworld, your ability to manipulate others without them ever realizing it. Ivy listened carefully, her expression neutral, but you could tell she was interested. She liked the idea of someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge the system from the inside, someone who understood the game she was playing.

- One day, she leaned in close, her fingers brushing against your wrist, sending a strange, almost electric pulse through your skin. "You’re beautiful," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t pull away. You were drawn to her, to the danger, to the idea of losing yourself in her world. It wasn’t long before your professional boundaries crumbled, and you found yourself kissing her, tasting the sweet poison of her lips. It was intoxicating, like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer confined to Arkham. You helped her in secret, bringing her the resources she needed, aiding her in her environmental crusades. Ivy saw the criminal in you and nurtured it, just like one of her plants. She didn’t want to control you—she wanted to empower you, and you let her. Together, you became a force to be reckoned with, a dangerous duo that Gotham wouldn’t soon forget. Poison Ivy had claimed you, body and soul, and you loved every minute of it.

Bane

- Your arrival in Arkham as the new psychiatrist was unremarkable to most, but when you were assigned to Bane, things took a darker turn. His reputation was terrifying, the man who broke the Bat, a living embodiment of strength and intelligence. But you weren’t afraid. You were drawn to him, to the power he represented, both physical and mental. You had always craved control, and Bane was the perfect subject—someone you could manipulate, or so you thought.

- Your sessions with Bane began like any other, with you trying to delve into his psyche, trying to understand the mind behind the monster. But he was different from the others. Bane wasn’t just brute strength—he was calculating, strategic, and he quickly saw through your act. He didn’t say it right away, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting for you to slip up.

- It didn’t take long for him to speak up. "You’re not here to fix me," he said one day, his voice deep and commanding. You froze, knowing you couldn’t hide from him anymore. "No," you admitted, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I’m not." You weren’t just a psychiatrist—you were a criminal, someone who had risen through Gotham’s underworld, and you wanted to understand the man who had brought the city to its knees.

- Bane respected honesty, and from that moment, your dynamic shifted. He didn’t see you as a doctor anymore—he saw you as an equal, someone with the same hunger for power that he had. You were fascinated by his mind, by the way he strategized and planned every move. He was a genius, far beyond what most people gave him credit for, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

- The tension between you grew with each session. Bane was controlled, disciplined, but you could see the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. It was subtle, but it was there. You were drawn to his strength, to the raw power he exuded, and you knew he felt the same. One day, after a particularly intense session, you found yourself standing too close to him, the air thick with unspoken desire. His hand, large and calloused, reached out to gently touch your cheek, his eyes dark with intent.

- "You are more than they realize," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a heated, dangerous kiss. There was no softness in it—only raw passion and the unspoken understanding that you were both forces of nature, bound by a mutual respect and hunger for power.

- From that day on, you were no longer his psychiatrist. You were his partner, his equal in every sense of the word. Bane trusted you in ways he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him plot his next move against Gotham. You were the brains behind his brawn, working together to bring the city to its knees once again. You loved him, not just for his strength but for his mind, for the way he saw the world and molded it to his will. Together, you were unstoppable, a force that no one could stand against. And you reveled in the chaos you would unleash.

Scarecrow

- When you first introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist at Arkham, you were already aware of Jonathan Crane's reputation. The master of fear, the Scarecrow, was infamous for his obsession with the mind's darkest corners. But what intrigued you wasn’t just his fixation on fear—it was the brilliance behind it, the cold, calculating intellect that twisted psychology into something deadly. You weren’t there to cure him, though. Beneath your polished exterior, you had your own darkness, your own secrets, and a hunger to learn from someone like him.

- From the first session, there was a tension in the air. Crane wasn’t like the other patients who tried to charm or manipulate you—he studied you, analyzing every word, every gesture. His voice was calm, his demeanor almost detached, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew you weren’t like the other doctors. "You’re curious," he remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But not about my recovery."

- You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "No, Dr. Crane. I’m curious about your work." That was the moment he saw you for what you were—a kindred spirit, someone who wasn’t afraid of fear but fascinated by it. Your sessions became less about psychology and more about power. Crane saw potential in you, and you in him. You started talking about fear on a deeper level, about how it controlled people, how it could be harnessed and used.

- As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to his mind, the way he saw fear not as a weakness but as a tool. You began to share your own experiences, the times you had manipulated fear in others to get what you wanted. Crane listened, his interest piqued, and for the first time, he opened up about his own experiments, the thrill he felt when watching his victims crumble under his toxin’s effects.

- One evening, after a particularly intense session, you found yourselves standing close, too close for a professional boundary. His hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt through you. His eyes, dark and penetrating, locked onto yours. "You don’t fear me, do you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. You shook your head, smiling. "I admire you." That was all it took. In an instant, his lips were on yours, the kiss filled with an electric tension that had been building for weeks.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer patient and doctor. You became his confidante, his partner in exploring the darkest aspects of the human psyche. He showed you things no one else knew about—his latest fear toxin formulas, his plans for Arkham and Gotham. You helped him, using your position to cover his tracks, to gather resources, and to watch as he slowly gained more control over the asylum.

- But it wasn’t just about fear anymore. It was about power, control, and a twisted form of love that grew between the two of you. Jonathan Crane wasn’t just your patient—he was your equal, your partner in crime, and the two of you reveled in the chaos you could create together. The city would learn to fear you both, and you’d savor every moment of it.

The Riddler

- Arkham had seen many doctors come and go, but when you introduced yourself to Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, he immediately knew you were different. You weren’t just another psychiatrist trying to “fix” him. No, there was something in your eyes, something calculating. You enjoyed puzzles, mysteries, and games of wit—just like he did. You weren’t there to cure him. You were there to challenge him.

- Your first session was more of a mental sparring match than a therapy session. Nygma tested you with riddles, trying to throw you off balance, to make you stumble. But you never missed a beat. Every time he threw a challenge your way, you met it with ease, answering his riddles with a smirk. "Impressive," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you’re hiding something, aren’t you, doctor?"

- You tilted your head, feigning innocence, but you both knew he was right. Edward Nygma thrived on solving puzzles, and you were a puzzle he wanted to crack. But what he didn’t realize was that you were just as much a player in this game as he was. As the sessions progressed, you began to drop hints, letting him see glimpses of the criminal mind beneath your professional exterior. It fascinated him, the idea that you weren’t just there to help, but that you had your own agenda.

- One day, during a particularly charged conversation about Gotham’s elite and their weaknesses, Nygma leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You’re like me, aren’t you? You see the world for what it is—a game. And we’re the ones smart enough to win." You didn’t deny it. Instead, you smiled, leaning closer. "Maybe I am."

- That was the turning point. From then on, your sessions were no longer about his rehabilitation—they were about planning. You shared your own insights into Gotham’s corruption, its flaws, its riddles. Nygma loved it. You became partners, planning your own schemes from inside Arkham’s walls. You used your position to feed him information, to help him plot his escape and his next big move.

- The chemistry between you grew with every session, the tension crackling between the two of you like static. It all came to a head one night when, after hours of trading riddles and plotting, Edward stood and crossed the room, pulling you close. "I always did enjoy a good mystery," he whispered before his lips met yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

- After that, you were inseparable. You weren’t just partners in crime—you were lovers, bound by a shared intellect and a thirst for control. Nygma trusted you in a way he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him execute his plans, bending Gotham to your will. Together, you were unstoppable, a pair of masterminds who thrived on chaos and complexity. The city was your playground, and every riddle, every challenge, only brought you closer.

Two-Face

- When you walked into the room for your first session with Harvey Dent, you knew you weren’t meeting the famed district attorney Gotham once adored. No, you were staring at a man who had been broken by fate, his face a stark reminder of the chaos that ruled his life now. But you didn’t flinch. You introduced yourself calmly, sitting across from him like you would any other patient, knowing full well you had your own reasons for being here.

- Two-Face sized you up immediately, his scarred eye twitching slightly as he watched your every move. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious. You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "Maybe I’m just curious about how someone like you thinks," you replied coolly. He chuckled darkly, flipping his coin in the air. "No one’s ever *just curious* about me, doll."

- Your sessions were a constant tug-of-war. Harvey’s dual nature fascinated you—how he constantly struggled between his desire for justice and the dark side that had overtaken him. You, too, had a duality hidden beneath the surface. You played the part of the psychiatrist well, but beneath that, you were a criminal, drawn to chaos just like him. And as much as he tried to intimidate you, you didn’t back down, and he noticed.

- Harvey respected your strength. The more you pushed back, the more interested he became. He saw something in you, something different from the other doctors who had tried to “fix” him. One day, after a particularly heated session, he tossed the coin in the air, catching it in his palm before smirking. "You know, I’ve got a feeling you’re not so innocent yourself." You met his gaze evenly. "What if I’m not?" That was the moment you saw the shift in his eyes—the dual sides of Harvey Dent were no longer fighting each other, they were intrigued by you.

- It wasn’t long before your relationship took a darker, more intimate turn. One night, after hours of discussing Gotham’s corruption and his place in it, Harvey stood from his chair and crossed the room, pulling you close. The kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he was trying to claim you as his, but you didn’t resist. You wanted it, wanted him. There was something thrilling about the danger, the unpredictability that came with Two-Face.

- From that moment on, you were his partner in more than just therapy. You helped him plan, working from within Arkham’s walls, aiding him in gathering resources for his next move against Gotham. You fed into both sides of him—the one that craved order and the one that loved chaos. Two-Face trusted you in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone since his fall, and together, you were unstoppable. His coin may have decided fate, but you held the real power in your hands, manipulating the outcome to suit your shared goals. You were drawn to the danger, and with Two-Face by your side, you reveled in the chaos.

The Penguin

- As you introduced yourself to Oswald Cobblepot in Arkham, you could feel his eyes assessing you from head to toe. The Penguin was a man who built his empire on manipulation, control, and knowing exactly who to trust—and who to use. But you weren’t just another psychiatrist walking into his cell. You had your own agenda, and the second you sat down, you knew Penguin would be a challenge worth taking on.

- Oswald wasn’t subtle. "So, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?" he sneered, the cane in his hand tapping the ground softly. You smiled, unphased by his attempt to unnerve you. "Just trying to understand what makes you tick, Mr. Cobblepot." He chuckled, clearly amused. "Is that so? Or are you here for something a little more… profitable?" He had you pegged, and you didn’t deny it. Penguin wasn’t someone who responded to weakness. He respected ambition, and you had plenty of it.

- The sessions became a delicate dance. You learned quickly that Penguin wasn’t just a gangster—he was a mastermind, always ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room. He loved the game, the power plays, the manipulation. And you knew how to play the game just as well. Every conversation with him was layered with unspoken meaning, your words carefully chosen to show you weren’t just another Arkham shrink. Oswald began to respect you, intrigued by your sharp mind and your ability to keep up with him.

- It wasn’t long before the lines blurred between professional and personal. Penguin’s calculating gaze would linger on you a little too long, his smirks becoming something more suggestive. "You’ve got a real talent for this," he’d say during one of your sessions, his voice low and dripping with amusement. "Maybe you should be working for me instead of this place." You didn’t disagree. In fact, the idea thrilled you. Gotham’s underworld was where you truly belonged, and Penguin saw it.

- One evening, after a particularly intense conversation about Gotham’s crime families, Oswald stood, walking around his desk with that unmistakable limp. He stood close, closer than ever before, his hand gently brushing your arm. "You and me, we could run this town," he whispered, his eyes dark with ambition and something more. You felt the electricity between you, the pull of power and attraction, and when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with the promise of what could come.

- After that, you were no longer just his psychiatrist. You became his confidante, his right hand, and eventually, his lover. Together, you plotted his rise back to the top, using your position in Arkham to gather information and pull strings. Penguin admired your cunning, your beauty, and your ambition. You weren’t just someone he used—you were someone he trusted, and in his world, that was more valuable than anything.

- You found yourself falling deeper into Gotham’s criminal underworld, by his side. Oswald respected your mind as much as your beauty, and you thrived in the power he gave you. The city became your playground, and together, you schemed to take it all. Penguin may have been a ruthless crime lord, but with you, he was something more—an equal. And together, no one could stand in your way.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 26: It’s a Halloween party right? - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warning: Mentions of basically bullying, cursing, killing, a little graphic but nothing crazy.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Tiny blurbs of what I think the muses would act when you’re at a Halloween party with them and someone makes fun of your costume!

Notes: Why did anyone stop wearing costumes I hate this new era were in. Grow up. Wear a costume.

Jason Voorhees: Immediately killing. No doubts about that, I take Jason to be a somewhat naive character but he absolutely knows what it’s like to have someone laugh at you. Whether it’s a crude joke or a twisted sense of humor, he can put two and two together, so the party definitely goes from zero to a hundred. I don’t think he would give the other a second to correct themselves or analyze the situation, instead it’s immediate kill, ask questions later. If you ran away crying, it’s overkill and Jason would never give parties a second chance, sorry.

Michael Myers: I think if he understood it, it may take him a while, they have to be obnoxious about it. If they’re laughing and throwing stuff at you, immediately Michael springs into action. There’s so many people who dress like him anyway, there are doubts that he’s even the real thing but some the smarter of the bunch know better than to join in and make a run for it before they get caught in the crosshairs. When everyone is pinned to the walls with kitchen knives and whatever he can find, then the place gets set ablaze, it’s not like he wanted to be there in the first place.

Tiffany Valentine: Picks up on it before you do and when she does she’s coming up with the most embarrassing way to be found dead. She’s trying to be a better person, she really is but why are they laughing at you? Maybe she can give everyone else who gets their hands on the crime scene photos something to laugh about. I don’t think she would give them a second to apologize or make up for it, she’s already had their death made up in her mind. They really fucked with the wrong person.

Billy Loomis: Laughs louder but with empty eyes, these group of kids just signed their death sentence. If you’re sobbing, the more tears you shed, the more blood they will. If you’re only uncomfortable, they’re still dying, maybe not as gory but he’s still taking his time. He gets away with it too, with the help of Stu. “Come on, Stu’s parties are way better than this” he’d kiss your forehead, not caring if there’s glitter sprinkled all over him.

Stu Macher: Kind of grinning, looking at both you and whoever the hell is trying to insult your costume. “Well I think it’s really cool.” He’d say, acting nothing but stupid with a big grin. I think he would have less restraint than Billy though, he’d start getting the strays one by one, coming around acting completely clueless as to what was happening. He’s a little smug with how well he covers up what’s real blood and what’s part of the decorations. Be careful pissing off Stu, you would’ve thought people would know that by now.

Leatherface: Poor baby he would be so confused at first, the groups of people would have to literally be laughing and you’d have to have a visceral reaction to their mean words. As soon as he puts two and two together, its head empty only wants to see their guts across the room. He’s especially violent because he knows what it’s like to be made fun of by his family and by the victims. It’s not a good feeling and he would do anything to make it go away when it came to you.

Patrick Bateman: There would be light chuckles, all the way up until he notices that they’re talking about you. A pressed smile would make itself present across his face, sniffing his drink before setting it down. Swiping his tongue across his perfect front teeth, mouth closed and sticking a fist in his pocket. You insisted to dress up for the silly Halloween party, he was hesitant about allowing you, but you did look stunning in designer clothes as a tacky costume. Patrick would absolutely pull a Stu and lead the others away from the pack, one by one around the building before unleashing the most amount of rage. Spitting and yelling, blood of his victims splattered across his delightful face. “Not the fucking face you fucking fuck.” He’d groan out wiping as much as he could off with his sleeve and trying to slick back his hair as much as possible before moving to the next person.

Harley Quinn: “Whatddaya mean by that?” There would be no hesitation for Harley to have the group try to correct themselves, depending on their reactions would directly affect if and how’d they die. If they would show no remorse, Harleys face would turn into a wide smile, staring blankly at them before shrugging her shoulders then shooting them point blank in the face, one by one. If there was some kind of remorse, Harley would be judge, jury and executioner about it. “Sorry about the blood on yer costume cupcake, maybe Ivy has somethin’ for that! If not her, then maybe kitty Kat.” Nobody makes fun of her baby, if they did, then she’d make sure they wouldn’t laugh about anything ever again.

Poison Ivy: With a raised eyebrow, Pamela would know exactly whether or not how they meant it and if she didn’t, they’re wrong, it’s exactly how Pamela viewed it. You were so excited to wear a costume, Ivy even helped you get it together, you were absolutely over the moon and now, some people who thought they were too good to dress up for Halloween were laughing in front of you both. Similar to Harley, she is judge, jury and executioner. While her methods would be a little more sophisticated, they still inflict the most amount of pain. She always carried something for moments like this, where one’s blood would turn against them, making them feel like there’s venom slowly invading their veins. Maybe a prick, maybe some powder, maybe a kiss, who really would see it coming. Either way, nobody laughs at her baby.

Billy Hargrove: Would stop what he’s doing immediately to look at whoever or whatever group was laughing at you, there would be a moment of silence offered to them to get themselves together. Not many chose to laugh or keep up the act and those who did would get a real beating full of pent up rage. So what if you wanted to wear a costume, so what if you were the only one. That was the point of it no? A halloween party? These people were going to be damn near unconscious by the time he’s done with them.

Steve Harrington: All fun and games until you’re crying. “You guys take it too far!” If you ran out of the room, Steve is chasing after you immediately to console you. You’re drunk, he’s drunk, you’re both a mess but you’re crying and as a great boyfriend, he’s trying to console you. “This party’s lame anyway, let’s get out of here” he’d kiss your forehead, if you’re still pouting he’s more than happy to sit down with you. “I think you’re the prettiest fairy in the whole world. And other worlds too.” He’d wipe the tears off your face, getting a warm towel to help. “Come on. You’re so beautiful, you look amazing, everyone’s costume is a jackass I guess. But I thought we were supposed to be something different for Halloween” he’d roll his eyes, still drunkenly trying to clean you up. He’s such a catch.

Steve Rogers: Concerned eyebrows active. “Hey what did you just say” suddenly no one wants to repeat themselves and if you know anything about captain America is that he absolutely hates bullies. “It’s a Halloween party no?” Suddenly he’s heated, facing the group completely while you make yourself small behind him. Everyone’s on edge enough to try to break it up. He wasn’t surprised they’d be backtracking, but he still doesn’t accept that behavior. “Apologize” “Steve- no it’s okay.” “No. It’s not okay. Apologize” even if they did, god forbid he caught them alone while you weren’t there. “He must’ve felt left out and added some fake blood to his face to fit in.”

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s going to stand up for you, especially when he can tell if it really got to you. All he thinks about was about how excited you were pulling your costume together and now you were crying or about to start crying and hugging yourself wanting more than anything to go home. Bucky has a way shorter temper than Steve though and he doesn’t care if it’s in front of anyone, they’re going to apologize to you without him having to ask. After sorting that out, he’s babying you after all of this.

Loki Laufeyson: Immediately killing them, even if he’s trying to reform his ways, he still can’t stand the thought of someone else’s words humiliating you. If he doesn’t have the patience to outwit them, he’s absolutely going to kill them. You’re his baby and he will always stand up for you, he’s just a little rusty around his methods. “If you ask me, you’re the most beautiful most elegant vampiress in the universes and I’ve been to many” Loki has such a way to always make you feel like the most beautiful and important creature, if it wasn’t his words, you had a hard time believing anyone else. He worships you more than anyone on this list so it’s hard to let anyone make you feel inferior.

Cloud Strife: He doesn’t get it for a moment, not until you’re upset. When he realizes you’re upset, he follows you out. He’s not the best at comforting but when he sees you upset, he’s all over you. “You look beautiful.” He admires you, after all it’s only Clouds picky opinion that you care about. He rather spend the holiday with you instead, he’s not really much of a party guy. Cloud would absolutely wipe your tears, sit in the grass with you, walk around the town all while complimenting your costume every chance he got.

Sebastian Michaelis: Maybe not immediately killing them, but absolutely torturing them, all with a smile. If there are appearances to be made, he waits until he can find them alone. He understood every crude remark, every joke, even when they thought they could get away with it with sly comments. “You appear to be the most stunning character here Lady Y/N.” That’s enough to make you blush, after all he only has eyes for you. He encouraged you to dress up, he wasn’t lying when he said you looked gorgeous. For anyone to have the nerve to make fun of you, it would be a death wish.

Spencer Reid: He would absolutely outwit them, nobody can really keep up with his charm. He didn’t really acknowledge the joke at first, until it hit him. Both of you would be dressed up and he’s more than ready to stand up for you especially. Spencer vents to you all the time about people who think they’re too good to dress up in a costume for a Halloween party. He doesn’t need to get physical with them, but let’s say if they really crossed a line then he’ll pull some strings at the BAU.

Bruce Wayne: So what if you were the only one wearing a costume, similar to Spencer, he can absolutely outwit them. Everyone wants to please Bruce and it only takes him staring at the ones who are laughing with a straight face. The elites around him would want his validation so bad that they would also stop laughing immediately. “I don’t get it. Who are you again? New money?” Hit them where it hurts. “The dress is Hermes, fortunately they had it expedited last minute. We had a few options to sort through. Looks like a dream nevertheless.” But it was never the dress that made you look godly, it was Bruce’s love.

Jason Todd: Immediately getting violent “what the fuck did you just say” and you better hope he misheard them. It’s scary to see Jason get this worked up, but it was for you. Before you know it he’s got another guy hung up against the wall or dragged across the table by the collar of their shirt. He would comfort you afterwards, treating you to whatever you want. “You know you’re the prettiest baby at the party.” If anything they’re better off making fun of you instead of making crude comments about wanting to see what you look like under the costume, I think Jason would have to be locked up in Arkham after that if that were to happen. He’s still pulling strings with the batfam to teach them a lesson.

[fandomnerd9602]

Harley kisses Ivy on the cheek…

Harley: good job baby

Y/N: hey! What about me?

Harley jumps into Y/N’s arms and kisses them too…

Harley: I promise you your own special award when you get home (winks)

Ivy: (purrs) make that two specials (winks)

[redr0sewrites]

As you're writing for DC now, can we get pegging headcannons for Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy & Wonder Woman x male! reader?

🥀A/n: UHM YES HELLO??)? i genuinely cooked so hard w this one ngl.

🥀Character(s): Harley Quinn x reader, Poison Ivy x reader, Wonder Woman x reader

🥀Cw: smut, pegging, sub!male!reader, slight feminization in HQ's part, impact play, bondage, cock/strap used interchangeably, strap sucking, oral fixation mention, dirty talk

🥀minors dni

Harley Quinn:

Harley would be soo mean about it, she's definitely mocking you and giggling the whole time while forcing you to take her strap. she takes prep very seriously, and would absolutely make you wear a butt plug beforehand to make sure you're nice and prepped for her

speaking of her strap, it is very her. its a bright red with glitter, and is definitely at least 8 inches. it has a very prominent tip with the slightest arch that can reach all the sweet spots inside you. you cannot tell me she wouldn't buy a vibrating strap for shits and giggles, she loves to torture you (lovingly ofc)

definitely buys you one of those monster dildos/straps as a gag gift, im talking a full 12 inches with tentacles and ridges. it starts off as a joke, but it isn't long before curiosity gets the best of both of you and she's bending you over the mattress, splitting you in two with her "monster cock" as she calls it

Harley has a brutal pace when pegging you, she's fast and rough and oh so mean. definitely hits it from the back, she looves doggy style and when you get all weak and shaky under her touch? it only makes her even meaner

likes slapping your ass and pushing you around while she pegs you. is infatuated by the sight of her cock sliding in and out of your hole, and loves to watch your ass cheeks jiggle with each thrust. if you're down for it, Harley would definitely buy you a pretty collar she can tug and play with while she fucks you senseless. she loves to mark whats hers, and makes sure to leave a heft amount of bite marks and hickeys across your necks and shoulders.

buys you lingerie just to peg you in it. lacy thigh garters with pretty panties in the color scheme of her clown costume, with a frilly bralette to match. Harley doesn't care how embarrassed you get, she's fucking you silly while switching between calling you her pretty princess or her dirty slut

loves groping your pecs and calling them tits while she fucks you, and when you whimper or complain she coos about how you're such a whiny whore. claims you "cry like a girl", and mocks you for being all needy and depraved

"aw, takin' me up the ass so well, dolly. betcha never played with your prostate like this before, huh toots? who knew all it took was f'me to fuck ya, and then you'd behave like the little bitch you are.."

very rarely touches your cock while pegging you, she's confident you can get off from the prostate stimulation alone. however, she's definitely down for double tapping and would love to fuck you from both ends with her strap and a sounding rod one day

while she can be very rough and degrading, i do think Harley finds importance in aftercare and is very sweet with you once it's all over. she'll tease you a bit, but will get you a warm towel to wipe you off and bring you some food and water. she has a very high libido though, so showering after sex with her often leads to another round... not that you'd mind

"you really are a little slut, aren't cha?" sharp, red nails leave a crescent shaped mark on your hips while Harley's free hand presses down on your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as she fucks you senseless. your drooling and moaning into the pillows while your thighs shake from the brutal pace she's set. the lacy thong she had bought you for the occasion had been torn off, but the thigh high socks, garters, and glittery, sheer bra remained untouched- for now.

your cock twitches, pressed between your tummy and the mattress, and you can't help but hump slightly, desperate for friction. you can't tell if you're grinding downwards against the bed for relief for your hard cock, or if you're grinding backwards for more friction against your abused hole. Harley leans onto you a little more, forcing your ass higher into the air so her strap can reach even deeper inside your gummy walls.

Harley watches, mesmerized, as her thick cock slides in and out of your leaking hole, ramming against that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. she notices your desperation, watching closely as you grind like a bitch in heat. the hand on your hip suddenly moves to grasp your leaking cock, and she snickers when you whimper. your dick twitches in her palm, desperate for any form of stimulation.

"aw, are you gonna cum all over yourself? jus' from me fucking ya silly?" she sneers as you grind your cock against her hand, mind lost in pleasure. "what a pretty, dumb whore you are," Harley coos, her pace unrelenting as you begin to sob. "go on doll, you can cum. but don't think 'm done with ya just yet~"

Poison Ivy/Pamela Isley:

Pamela probably wouldn't know much about pegging to begin with but is definitely willing to try it. she's a very confident and self assured dom, so as long as you're comfortable she's down to try pretty much anything

her strap is very pretty, a matte black or green with a few prominent veins. i think her strap would be about 7-8 inches but no more than that, but it would have a decent girth to it as well. big enough to where you feel the stretch, but not so much that it hurts (unlike Harley who wants you to suffer)

fingers you for prep, loves stretching you out and making you cum before she even puts her strap in. her fingers are long, slender, and very pretty, perfect for hitting that sweet spot inside you

i think Pamela would prefer to have you in her lap when she pegs you, with your hands tied behind your back with her vines. she's not as mean as much as she's condescending, switching between praising and degrading you so much it makes your mind all fuzzy

loves to tie you down in general. Pamela very rarely lets you touch her while she's pegging you, instead keeping you bound (and sometimes gagged) and completely at her mercy

COCKWARMING!!!! teases you mercilessly while forcing you to sit on her lap, staying immobile for what feels like hours while she toys with your nipples or kneads the flesh of your thighs. she'll occasionally stroke your cock with her nails, dragging upwards from the base to your twitching tip, only to stop when you do so much as gasp or whine. absolutely makes you suckle on her tits, the sight of you looking up at her with big, innocent doe eyes with one of her breasts in your mouth makes her absolutely feral

loveeesss when you struggle to ride her, grinding down on her strap and blushing like a mess. Pamela forces you to make eye contact with her as she finds it very intimate, and will get irritated if you look away or cover your eyes. she'll also get annoyed if you try to hide your moans or stifle any of your noises

if youre being bratty, she will sometimes offer to let you "take control" and fuck yourself, claiming that "since you're a big boy and can handle yourself, you can pleasure yourself as well". you both know that she's gonna take over for you eventually, but she just enjoys watching you squirm and struggle

puts your cock in a chastity cage while she pegs you so you can't even cum, but will be praising you for taking her so well the entire time. i think she'd find twisted pleasure in watching you cry or beg, so she's definitely edging you until your pleading with her to cum

makes you call her ma'am or mistress, and very occasionally will refer to herself as mommy

Pamela is a little bit into breathe play/choking imo. not enough to make you pass out or hurt you too badly, but definitely to the point where her hand is clamped tight around your throat as she fucks you. she'll keep her hand tight on your throat to help maneuver you as well, especially when she's trying to switch positions or force you to make eye contact

she hates when you get shy or awkward. shes splitting you open on her cock and you're looking away from her? how rude! she's pegging you hard until you apologize, murmuring in your ear and treating you almost like a child. she whispers to you about how she's seen you in even more compromising positions, so don't look away, or else she'll be forced to punish you.

definitely has a high stamina, and probably rides you for a little after pegging you just to bring you both to one more release. Pamela is very cleanly in my opinion, so she definitely prefers to shower or bathe after sex. she's very sweet w aftercare, and will massage you if you're sore.

the familiar feeling of vines wrapping around your wrists makes you shudder, nuzzling deeper into the crook of her neck. Pamela's flowery scent overwhelms your senses as her cock nudges against your prostate, yet she refuses to move. your cock, erect and needy, slaps against your tummy as you squirm.

"i need you to look at me, darling," she coo's, slender hands finding purchase on your hips. "mhm," you murmur, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. "oh? do you want me to fuck you or not?" you realize your mistake, and quickly correct yourself.

"yes, ma'am. m'sorry f'not addressing you," you murmur, and Pamela smirks. "oh, good boy. so polite~" she murmurs, rocking her hips up against yours, making you whine. "good boys deserve rewards, don't you think?"

Wonder Woman/Diana Prince:

listen, i feel like Diana is more experienced than she lets on. theres no way she's never pegged anyone before- this is Wonder Woman we're talking about.

Diana cares mostly about your comfort and pleasure, she's definitely a pleasure dom and wants to make sure you're satisfied. if you're into it, she's down to try it.

her strap is long, i'd say about 9 or maybe even more inches with a prominent tip and a few ridges. i don't think its too thick, but there's definitely enough girth where theres a bit of a stretch, especially at the base. i also think its a plain matte black, she isn't one for extravagant colors and such

very gentle, and cares a lot about prep. definitely fingers you beforehand to stretch you out, and makes sure to use a comfortable amount of lube. i also think she's the type to have you suck her off, even though she doesn't feel anything its SO attractive to see you on your knees and slobbering all over her strap. def fucks your face a little, claiming she needs to make sure her strap is all slick for entry- but really she just loves feeding into your oral fixation

Diana prefers simple missionary position when pegging you, there's something very intimate about watching your expressions and holding intense eye contact. she isn't opposed to the mating press either, and she loves how the angle allows her to fuck you deeper. she often isn't aware of her own strength and, much to your delight, tends to bully her cock deeper inside you by force of sheer will. you are undeniably going to be sore once she's done

wraps her arm beneath you to pull you up against her chest, supporting bot of your weights with just one arm so you can suck on her tits. definitely shoved her boobs into your face, and whether or not that's intentional or not it up to you

speaking of, Diana is literally soooo strong its uncanny. while she prefers the intimacy of the bed, she can definitely peg you up against the wall and hold you up without breaking a sweat. she loves how each thrust causes your hips to slam against the wall, and will force you to wrap your legs around her waist so she can reach even deeper inside you

she's very adamant about praising you, and making sure you know just how much she loves you. Diana definitely has pegged you in front of a floor to ceiling mirror, forcing you to watch her simultaneously peg you and jack you off while praising you the entire time.

"you are taking me so well, beloved, you're so strong and gorgeous... absolutely divine.."

maybe im crazy but. Diana with a breeding kink. HEAR ME OUTTTT. she knows its biologically impossible for her to impregnate you or even cum inside you, but that doesn't stop her from buying one of those straps that allows her to "cum" to satisfy those urges. and satisfy it does. the next thing you know she's fuckinv you absolutely silly, praising you for taking her so well while turning you into her own personal cumdump. its not so bad when she's cooing to you how gorgeous you look like this, and how much she wants to fill you up...

out of the three, Diana is by far the best at aftercare. she'll get you food and water before wiping you down and running you a bath, and then switching the sheets and blankets while you get in the tub before joining you. she gives wonderful massages, and praises you so much you nearly cry.

"your taking me so well, darling," Diana murmurs, pressing a kiss to your brow. you whine, your cock slapping against your tummy as she gazes down st you intently. her thrusts begin to pick up speed and your back arches, desperate to feel her even deeper. Diana slides one hand beneath your thigh, hooking it over her shoulder before repeating the motion with your other leg, until she has you folded in half and is practically splitting you in half on her strap.

the new position allows her to practically rearrange your guts as she drills into you, your gummy walls clamping down around her cock as she whispers sweet nothings into your ear. "you're such a good boy, so pretty f'me," she sighs against your skin. she very rarely slurs her words, but she's caught up in watching you unwind with each thrust. the pure ecstasy on your face is reflected in your wanton moans, and she continues to indulge you. you feel your release approaching as your cock twitches, desperate for attention.

Diana notices immediately, wrapping a hand around your base and pumping your length. "go on, darling, let go for me~" she coos, and you do, spilling onto yourself and making a mess. Diana gently fucks you through your orgasm, watching intently as you come down from your high. "you did so well dearest, i'm so proud.."

ok why did i cook with this hello⁉️ i genuinely love this so much like aaaa i need all of them in my bed asap

[dollwrites]

ᴍɪsғɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴘᴀᴍᴇʟᴀ ɪsʟᴇʏ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!robin!reader, established relationship, predicament bondage ( plants ), blood mention ( mind the thorns ), improper use of Pam’s powers and plants in general, it’s kinda dub con, suggested age gap, praise kink, maybe a very small amount of sex pollen if you squint. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act six [ object stimulation ]

“Well, well, a little birdie got caught in my trap.”

vines slither up your legs, coiling like serpents around your thighs and squeezing tight. Pam’s voice sounds like it’s all around you, but you know better than that. she’s just a pro at playing up the villain bit. “Ivy,” you break out into a subtle smile even saying her name, but attempt to hold it at bay by nibbling on your lower lip. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Isn’t that what you said last night? And the time before that?” Pamela’s voice only grows softer as she gets closer, practically materializing out of the darkest shadow at your back, until slender fingers drum against your shoulders, and glossy lips smack against the shell of your ear. “Oh, and the time before that?”

“Heroes make mistakes,” you remind her, but you’re happy it’s her causing chaos in Gotham and not that looney tune Joker. “I have just made… a lot of mistakes this week.”

and you wanted to make another. just one more, terrible decision before Batman ruined all your fun.

“Pamela—“ you reach for her, wanting to run your fingers through her fiery curls or caress her face long enough to guide those tantalizing, glossy lips to your own, but more vines got in the way. snapping around your arms, they pin them tight to your sides, looping several times around your midriff. this is when you notice the thorns, angry and red, nipping at the spandex of your uniform around your belly, tearing several, minuscule holes in the threading and pressing into your soft skin beneath. “Ivy.” you say, more firm this time. the fabric that clings to your thighs like a second skin is also being torn at by her dubious, thorned ‘babies’ as she called them. “Now’s not the time for your little games. Batman is—“

“Shh, sh, shh,” Pam cuts you off, allowing her hands to careen over your shoulders and down your front, caressing your chest as her lips tickle the column of your neck with tender kisses. you moan out loud when she teases a particularly special spot that she already knew was there, and her svelte, razor sharp nails slip beneath your neckline, severing quintessential threads that hold your top in place. the seams snap with a soft sound, and part to expose your cleavage. “I know Bruce is probably scouring the rooftops of Gotham right now, searching for you, little bird. But you and I can still have our fun before he finds you.” both of her willowy hands envelop your breasts through your top, running her thumbs along the shape of your budding nipples, and you moan, your resolve slipping, as you allow your head to fall back, simply enjoying the attention. “There you go, my little pet. Such a good girl for me.”

but you can’t ignore the thorny vines that are vice-tight, digging into your arms, waist, and legs. shredding the integrity of your outfit. “Time to call off your babies, Ivy.” you tell her in a mew, but they only seem to tighten their grip at that, twisting against you. some of the sharp edges find your skin beneath the costume and liquid rubies bead up from you at the contact points. you let out a sharp hiss at the sensation of so many cuts at once, and tilt your head back further to look up at her, demanding to be released.

but Pamela is simpering wickedly at you as she peeks up from your neck— the visage of a heroine, usually so strong, reduced to a damsel in distress. “Mm, nn-nn.” she denies you simply, “I think I’ll have my fun with you all tangled up this time.” as she speaks, the two tips of the vines incapacitating your legs meet in between your thighs, their bulbous buds stiff and oozing a nectar-like substance as they begin to rub against you. it was sticky and warm, but not unpleasant, the smell of a honey-arousal cocktail wafts in the atmosphere the longer they tease your sensitive cunny through your suit. you were almost worried the two, determined little buds would rip a hole in the crotch of it with all their furious, hard scrubbing, and you would have a difficult time explaining to your mentor why your private parts were exposed. the injuries from the thorns you could probably explain away without raising much suspicion. however, the edges of these buds were slick enough to lubricate the fabric ( and you, of course, taking care of the interior the more they pleasured you ), so the majority of the integrity of the suit tonight remained in tact.

your gloved hands ball into fists at your sides, but you can’t deny it feels good. the flowerlets seemed to be ribbed in all the right places, writhing in tandem to toy with your cunt— pushing the spandex around until your nerherlips slot around them, and they can worm their way, instinctively, to the more sensitive parts, like your throbbing, little button that swells further. “Ah, uh—!”

one of the sprouts blossoms, the flower mimicking the shape of a small mouth, and latches itself in place with several, microscopic teeth-like thorns impaling through your suit. the seal creates a suction against your clit hard enough to make your eyes cross and your knees buckle. it felt like Pamela’s mouth when she ate your pussy, the way it sucked hard on your nerve-bundle. that’s how you knew she was in complete control, aware of the sensations that bring you the most pleasure and channeling them into these, little minions. the bubbling in your belly, a brewing orgasm, flares at the sudden ferocity, and your mouth hangs open, half in shock and half to simply allow your needy moans to flow freely. “P—Pam, oh, god, this feels… Good!! Don’t stop…!!”

your pleading nature elicits a giggle from the vixen fondling your breasts, further overloading you with pleasure, and she traces her name along your throat with her tongue, as if claiming Batman’s young, pretty sidekick for herself. “You’re always so sensitive, so responsive. Taking whatever I give you, doing so well.” she croons softly, her thumbs and forefingers pinching at your pert nipples to intensify the pleasure her plants are giving you. the still-closed floret has taken to prodding against your hole as it clenches, helplessly, behind the flimsy defense of your suit, teasing you with fantasies of tearing its way through and impaling you. right now, you were intoxicated by the pleasure ( or perhaps, that sweet-scented sap that seemed to envelop you in a warm, tingling sensation ), and you wanted nothing more than that to happen. but Ivy knew there wasn’t time to ravage you, not like you both wanted. “My pretty, little bird. My favorite.” she emphasizes the word favorite, by allowing one hand to flee to your jaw, grasping it, and turning it to capture your lips in a steamy kiss.

you can’t help yourself. you’re teetering on the edge of orgasm, and all this praise is only throwing gasoline on an already-raging fire. so you kiss her back, as fervently and hungrily as you can manage. your tongue tangling with hers in a dangerous dance as her suffocating kiss muffles the higher octaves you reach when your orgasm hits you like a sack of bricks.

you come undone, your hips bucking back and forth, riding the waves of intense pleasure because you can do little else, your fists balled so tight that your knuckles hurt, and you whimper when Pamela sinks her teeth into your lower lip, tugging on it. your eyelids flutter when you release, and then, without so much more as a second to torture you further, the vines retreat. Pam breaks the kiss, kicking her lips, smirking with her arms crossed as she steps back.

without the vines’ support, you are more than a little wobbly on your feet. you manage to stay standing, only barely, and pant, chancing a glance down at your suit. the chest is ripped open, exposing more cleavage than normal, it’s riddled with small, puncture holes, and the aromatic slime mixed with your own release creates a thick, damp patch in the crotch. Explaining this to Batman might be a little harder than you anticipated, but you would figure it out. your eyes flicker over to her, watching the vines retreat into the darkness behind her, and she only stands at the edge of escape. she looks stunning, irresistible, and in your post-orgasmic state, still riding the high, you want to grab her and insist on a round two. bury your face between her thighs and drink her in. but you couldn’t, and you both knew that. not yet, at least. “Don’t look so sad, baby.” Pamela speaks first, reading your pouty expression, and she reaches out to caress your cheek and trace your jaw with the very tip of her nail, smiling fondly. “We’ll see each other again soon. You just have to find some time to sneak around Bruce. Keep him distracted a little longer, and then I will really and truly ravage you.”

your heart thumps harder at the idea. you’ve been at the mercy of Poison Ivy and her insatiable appetite more than once, but it’s always a place you want to be. “Yeah, just stay out of his way in the meantime, okay?” you plead with her, tilting your head to kiss her fingers, mumbling softly, “It’s a pain in the ass to sneak into your cell at Arkham.”

[blakeswritingimagines]

Who fell first and who fell harder

Joker: You fell first and harder

Harley Quinn: She fell first and harder

Catwoman: She fell first and harder

Riddler: He fell first but you fell harder

Penguin: He fell first and harder

Scarecrow: You fell first but he fell harder

Deathstroke: You fell first and harder

Bane: He fell first but you fell harder

Mr Freeze: He fell first and harder

Two-Face: He fell first but you fell harder

Poison Ivy: You fell first but she fell harder

Killer Croc: You fell first and harder

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area. Unfortunately for me, they saddled the newest intern to do all the heavy lifting. Young joints and all that jazz. At least I got an invite. The invites ran out before the IT guy could get one. Poor Eddie.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”