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eufezco · 10 months ago

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THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

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coldilikeit · 3 months ago

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Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 8- The REAL beloved princess

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"This is so fucking bullshit" someone says as she storms out her used to be office, this someone got fired from her job after management found out she was stealing from the company

She's frustratingly fondling with the keys of her car and drives off in a pissed off state, "What's so good about them anyway.. I was top of my class you assholes! It was just a couple hundred thousand dollars, I needed vacation money!" She yelled

What she didn't notice was the light turning red meaning all cars should stop, then she crashes and hits a teenage girl, she swerved out to run away from the scene but her frantic driving makes her hit a pole and she dies

Then she wakes up as a 9 year old girl, she wakes up as "Viviana"

She's a little socialite and influencer who bullies people poorer than her, once a scandal about her was shown after she was seen throwing her leftovers at a homeless person's head

She's the daughter of a famous whore model and an unknown dad, her mom slept with one of the guests at fashion week and had her

Life was good for Viviana, vacations, designer bags and clothes, private school

When Viviana was 10, at one of her lavish birthday parties an earthquake happened, she was about to get crushed under the debris but a screen popped up

Welcome Reader! To the favorite child au!

Your story goes as someone who lives a normal life, but then when your mother dies, you find out you're the daughter of none other than Bruce Wayne! Aka Batman, the family immediately loves you and you become the most cherished person in the Manor!

After that Viviana's life changed, she was then actively trying to poison her mother so she can start the story of her being loved

She was given missions that gave her points and superpowers as rewards,

So far she has

Super strength, Lazer eyes, and infinity bag (a bag that has whatever she needs or wants at the moment)

At first Viviana didn't want to become a vigilante like the system was telling her to be, but then the opportunity came when she was transferred to Gotham prep, there was a school shooting and her brothers were watching, of course she had to show off

She apprehended the bastards and was praised by the school

Soon she was appearing alongside the bats, She was then given a love meter by her system to see how much they loved her, so far she's at 30%

There was one problem, that one girl

(Name) Wayne.

She wasn't part of the original family!?

Then her system informed her that she was another reincarnated person, but she reincarnated as the "neglected" one

How pitiful, Viviana laughed to herself

The problem is that bitch (Name) made the family love her... She had years with them!? It wasn't fair!

They were even throwing a gala for her birthday, the last straw for Viviana was when Bruce, the man who's supposed to love her most and declare her as the favorite child, danced with the bitch he's supposed to hate!

She couldn't wait and introduced herself right then and there, it was really unfortunate that her mom had died due to the Joker's attack

Why are her brothers smiling at her!? Why are her sisters adoring her!? This wasn't how it's supposed to go! She's the beloved daughter!

Viviana vows to make that change.

The party ended abruptly and now the family find themselves in a private room

Duke leans on the sofa "So you're that protagonist vigilante right?" He looked wary of the new girl

Viviana looked shocked "How did you!?-" Duke laughed recalling a memory, he looked at (Name) "Someone once told me 'A new vigilante appears, Bruce gets a new kid, it's not rocket science' huh (Name)?"

"we'll have to verify the DNA test you handed me" Bruce coughs "Until then you'll stay in a guest room-"

"Master bedroom." Says (Name), the system informed you that his girl is another reincarnated person! You've never thought you'd meet anyone back in your old world! Maybe you and her can help each other with missions and stuff!

Everyone looks at you "What? If she does end up becoming our sister are you going to treat her like how I was first treated? Make her feel welcome" you smiled, you found out that she was reincarnated as the "beloved" one of the Bat family, and her mission is opposite to yours, make everyone love her, you'll help her with that, and maybe she'll help you too

____________________________

Bruce feels tired, he had just made you feel part of the family after years of neglect, he feels like you were finally opening up to them and now you guys can be one happy family

Then Viviana comes.

"Maybe I should just fuck infertile women", he groans, the door opens and comes in the devil "Viviana... Why are you up? It's so late?"

She smiled "I saw how stressed you were at the family meeting earlier... I made you some tea" she said, Bruce falters "How... Thoughtful of you, thank you Viviana"

Bruce smelled the aroma, a sweet scent, he doesn't like sweets but it's fine, it was from his daughter, he took a sip... He was surprised it wasn't sweet at all, it was a bit bitter with a tangy taste, it wasn't a good tea, but who is he to complain?

Reader- um I mean... Protagonist! His love meter is going up in an alarming rate! What happened?

"I told you to not mess up on what you call me..." Viviana angrily whispered, I mean, she was the protagonist, so she doesn't see a problem on why the system shouldn't call her that

Viviana relaxed in an armchair near her father's desk "You know... My tea has a special ingredient... First it's him then the others... And then the entirety of Gotham..." She whispered

But protagonist... Using a love potion to up your love meter is considered cheating... If you get caught, or the love potion wears off, we'll both get in trouble! I suggest you get their affection the natural way!

"I hope you have a goodnight Father..." Viviana smiled then left the room

Protagonist! Bruce is still a vigilante! A scary one at that, if he finds out about this your love meter might plummet!

"it won't. Don't worry, I won't let it happen" she looked at her stats

Super strength- 6/20

Lazer eyes- 8/20

"System why aren't you doing anything to make this go up!?" She growled

You're the one who's supposed to make that go up on your own! By fighting villains! With every criminal you rehabilitate or put in jail, your stats go up, so far you've only managed to out the school shooters and some muggers

"powers aren't that important anyway... What matters is that girl, who does she think she is!? She was even trying to show her influence in the family by changing their minds and making me sleep in a Master bedroom!"

She was probably only trying to help you... She's been informed of your mission by her system

"Screw that! She's just scared that I'll take her place, so she's being kind to me to make herself stay! I'm going to take everything from her, those warm gazes, the gifts... They were mine in the first place!"

____________________________

Look who I met on an outing!

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

#warmisekaidc #dc universe #dcu #yandere #yandere batfam #yandere platonic #yandere batboys #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere duke thomas #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere dc

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 year ago

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What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.

It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.

It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.

It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.

Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…

Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.

When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.

One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.

Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.

You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.

You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.

Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?

It’s none of your business, in the end.

After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.

You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.

But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.

You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.

You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.

You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.

“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?

Why did that sound very unlikely…

“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”

He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.

…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.

“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.

“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.

“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”

Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.

You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.

Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.

A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…

Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.

And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.

It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.

‘Beloved Son and Brother.’

Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.

Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.

He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.

The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.

You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.

“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”

“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.

It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.

From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.

Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.

You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.

If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.

Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.

He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.

“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.

You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.

“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.

“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.

What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?

Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.

You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.

Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.

On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.

As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.

He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.

“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.

“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.

“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.

You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.

…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.

This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.

Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.

You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.

You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.

Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…

“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.

“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.

Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.

Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!

“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.

Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.

“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.

“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.

“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.

“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.

And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?

Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.

You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.

“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.

This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.

“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”

His voice trails off. Little what?

He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”

Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.

See? You could do this. Stealthy.

As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.

It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.

“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.

Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.

It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.

Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.

You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.

Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.

“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.

“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.

“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”

Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.

Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.

The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”

And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”

Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.

“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.

Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.

You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.

“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.

Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.

“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.

It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-

You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.

“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”

“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.

“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.

“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.

“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”

“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”

“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.

Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.

“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.

You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.

“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”

“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.

Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.

And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.

“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.

Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.

Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.

“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.

“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.

Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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msfantasy-comics · 1 year ago

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The Perfect Match

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: A head cannon on how Y/n is the perfect match for Jason.

Warning: this contains references to heavy topics, so if you are easily trigged, then please read at your discretion.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Jason is one of the most complex people.

His life experience has set him up for some incredible challenges.

By the grace of god for everything that is good, you walked in and made him whole.

You were, Jason’s perfect match.

Understanding and Reliant

Jason has had an incredibly traumatic past, the death of his father and loving step-mother, becoming homeless, feeling rejected by his adoptive family, having his birth mother sacrifice him, being killed by the Joker… seriously… what HASN’T this poor man been through?

With that, Jason needs a partner who can at least, understand that he has a lot of pain to bare, and that Jason had his own unique way in processing that trauma.

Dick: “He tried to force Bruce into killing the Joker.”

Y/n: “Was it wrong of him to get someone else to do his dirty work? Yes, absolutely, however, the Joker did kill him and his mother… need I say more?”

Damian: “He kills criminals- not turning them into Arkham as we are required to.”

Y/n: “Firstly… hypocrisy. Secondly, Arkham is fundamentally broken and objectively not effective as we have established numerous times. Jason has found a permanent solution to criminals who hurt without cause or resolution.”

Tim: “You’re literally excusing his actions.”

Y/n: “I’m not saying I agree with everything Jason has done, but I can understand why Jason has done what he did and why he thinks that way. Agreeing and understanding are completely different words.”

Jason sitting smuggly with his arms crossed.

Jason: “Yeah! Tell them off babe.”

Jason at times feels like you’re the only person who understands him.

But even more so, Jason loves that you defend him in front of others with unwavering support.

But in private you reason with him gently.

Y/n: “Baby, I see why you feel Bruce should’ve avenged your death, but it’s just not part of his philosophies, punishing him for someone else’s crime wasn’t fair… you really should apologise for torturing him, I truely believe Bruce was doing what he thought was best.”

Jason: “… I’ll think about it.”

Loyalty

Jason has severe abandonment issues.

His father and step-mother dying in quick succession, with no extended family willing to take him in.

Meeting his bio-mother, who bargained her own life in exchange for Jason’s. Which Jason graciously accepted despite how undeserving it was.

Bruce ‘replacing’ him quickly after with Tim.

Bruce not avenging his death with the Joker.

Jason was constantly making sacrifices for others and as far as he was concerned

No one returned the favour.

So Jason really values loyalty to the highest degree.

As he believes it’s a rare trait.

Your unwavering love and support is everything Jason could’ve asked for and more.

However…

Jason: “Would you leave me if I ever cheat on you.”

Y/n: “Yes, absolutely.”

Jason: 😲

Y/n: 😐

Communication Skills

Jason, is generally, horrible at communicating his feelings and needs.

His feelings are expressed through action. Not words.

This can often be frustrating but this just means you have to come up with creative ways in which Jason can express himself.

Jason: “Fuck, fuck, fuck everything is fucked!”

Y/n: “Common grumpy pants, let’s go for a drive.”

You’ll often drive Jason to scenic places and you’ll both wonder around in silence before you take him home snuggle up and just watch a movie.

You do all the right things without being asked.

You know what he’s trying to say without him saying a word.

You know that the last thing Jason needs, is to explain himself.

All he needs is reassurance.

Which you do perfectly.

Supportive in his Endeavours

Jason has a … unique take on justice.

He is the lawyer, judge and executioner.

If he finds a criminal guilty of a heinous crime and said criminal is not sorry.

Then that criminal is typically never heard from again.

Whilst you may or may not agree, you both have a burning passion for the betterment of your community.

Don’t forget you both call Gotham your home.

Jason just loves how passionate you are at making the city better for everyone.

His focus is on cleaning up the crime whilst yours is to build a better foundation to better your community and home.

Jason loves that you hold the same values as his own.

#dc x reader #dc imagine #batboys #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batfam x reader #batfam imagine

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scenesniper · 10 months ago

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☆ "weeping clown" ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / weeping clown x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / possessive nature, choking fixation, body worship, orgasm denial

word count / 1,335 words

author's note / i wanted more miserable, pathetic, lore accurate toxic weepy so i decided to just write it myself.

SFW

☆ a very clingy man that is far too quiet to ever be the one to initiate a conversation with you. after all, how dare he have such thoughts when you’re shining all so bright. altruist you can say but behind it, he is all but possessive.

☆ you will always find letters forwarded to you by someone of anonymity but his handwriting is all but so familiar. you will always feel a set of eyes following you in everything you do around the circus. whether it be practicing for your next act, applying your makeup, eating, or paying attention to your own body care, it's always on you.

☆ weeping clown by his stage name is very self explanatory. even with his wishes of being so much more than what he is branded by, he carries on his sorrowful demeanor behind the stage. meeting you, whether you’re the first to ever truly acknowledge him or give him the light of day of your time, he will think of that interaction of so much more.

☆ he’s completely infatuated by you, not having the guts or confidence to ever approach you, he will make gifts for you in secrecy, going to great lengths to have it personally delivered to you by a postman to possibly hide the fact that it was him all along.

☆ however, you have suspected the clown for awhile now. the way his eyes avoid your own, his stuttering and brightening red state of his. you have always thought of it as normal for the clown, his cowering state, but there is just something about him that rang alarm bells.

☆ weeping is easily flustered. any hint of your attention on him has him already a profused bashful state. especially any physical contact with each other, even if it’s just holding hands, his hands will instantly clam up and become so warm. he gets embarrassed at these times and would begin to avoid eye contact so you wouldn’t have to see him in such a “pathetic condition”.

☆ kissing the weeping clown is rough due to his very chapped lips. he’s a clumsy and messy kisser, having no prior experience and frankly, only kisses with pure want and no thoughts at all behind it as if you’re going to disappear on him. you’ll always feel his hands messily messing the back of your hair and at times, when he’s pushing his tongue down on you, he loves it when you tug down on his scarf.

☆ his love, to be blunt, is completely unconditional. it doesn’t matter if you kill someone with your own bare hands, even if his idea of you shatters, his ideology still stands. he’s a man that is completely obsessed with the idea of you and while it is a harmful train of thoughts, that obsession turns into a sick love.

☆ even if his love comes from a twisted place, he cares for you in his own little way. he’s overprotective of you and attentive to your mental and emotional needs of yours. if someone is bugging you, he’s immediately on the band wagon in planning on how he’s specifically going to privately and in secrecy, handle it.

NSFW

☆ joker is not a confident man as we all know, and especially in bed. even if he’s bigger than most, around 8 inches or so, he is all but insecure about the approach. he’s a virgin and only has experience by touching himself late at night, clutching a crumpled picture of you and imagining your hands pumping his cock.

☆ he’s always the type to indulge in his personal fantasies and to finally have it happen to him, he’s all but overjoyed but extremely confused and insecure on how you can ever pick someone like him. he has always dreamed of you touching him, even when he’s ashamed of such thoughts when facing you upfront, he’d always go hard over the smallest things from you.

☆ your voice, your lips, your eyes on his, your scent, you brushing skin contact with him even if it’s just a small graze, oh god his dick is practically about to burst out his boxers. he loves the rough feeling of his dick begging to be dicked down and would often grind himself in his own boxers, imagining that friction is your pussy.

☆ he would get so long in those surreal fantasies of his, wanting to just breed you. but once actually having you, his insecurities of having little to no experience comes crashing down once more. you’ll be on his lap and he’ll be completely dumbfounded, absolutely having no idea where to put or place his arms and would stare at you undressing on him which god, is so hot to him.

☆ he’s the type to just cum right then and there in whatever you do to his body. touching his cock, oh he’s already seeing stars and tearing up. your warm mouth on his, he’s grinding his waist and dragging you by your hair to go deeper and deeper, causing you to choke and him getting off by your gagging sounds.

☆ he’s a big crier during it all, his eyes seeming to always tear up whenever he feels absolutely stimulated or from pure happiness, he’ll always throw his head back and bites his lips to the point it begins to start bleeding and then planting his blood soaked lips on yourself.

☆ body worship. weeping clown is ashamed of his disability and amputee, but you praising it and giving it utmost attention (not just only during sex of course) gives him an unexplainable emotion such as relief of your acceptance of him. how you don’t immediately shun him.

☆ he loves to worship you and your entire being, not just being the only one praised. he will always be going on and on, muttering about your beauty. he always feels as though he shouldn’t even have the privilege to be in your presence, let alone touch you. it’s an emotional moment for him the entire time, enveloping himself to your existence.

☆ he absolutely can’t get enough of you, always loving it when he’s the one on your lap or vice versa, he loves to look up at you and you wiping his tears off with your thumb. he loves to nuzzle on the palm of your hand every time you do it. once he’s more familiar and confident with your body, he finds himself more and more lost in sex.

☆ he’s a verbal partner, always gasping and lowering his moans. it’s not a hard feat to have him a mess over you and especially when you’re verbal, he can’t help but feel good knowing he’s the one getting those reactions out of you.

☆ he loves it when you deny him of his orgasm. tie him behind his waist and fuck his cock with your finger, palm, boobs, thighs, anything. he’ll start whining and drawing his voice out, begging for your touch, his tears practically streaming out by then.

☆ bouncing on his cock, he’s still so scared over the fact that you’re in his but he can’t help but get so lost in your touch. he’ll watch you with astonishment, watching your boobs bounce along your actions and begin latching his mouth on the bud of your nipples and sucking on it to the point there’ll be a prominent, red mark.

☆ aftercare with weeping clown would be him cleaning you up with a rag and bringing you the glass of water from the bedside, very quiet and unsure on what else to talk about. it’s a comfortable silence on your part but for the clown, he’s particularly anxious. you’ll have to be the one praising and tucking him for the night. during these moments, he’s especially emotional. he never wants to let go of this moment and then, decide to do everything that he can to keep you by his side no matter what.

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swrkn · 5 months ago

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can you maybe do some wooin in a relationship hcs pretty please, thank youuuu! ur writing ate <3

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Wooin x g/n reader

Genre ; fluff , sfw

Author note ; thank you so much and sorry for the late reply i didn’t log on tumblr for a few days, i also tried a new style for my headcanons so please don’t hesitate to tell me which one you like more ! My request are open !

𖣔 First of all, i see Wooin with someone who has to match his vibe, so you know someone who likes to goes out and maybe a little freaky.

𖣔Wooin has a knack for making sarcastic comments or teasing you about the smallest things, like how you pronounce a word or the way you hold your chopsticks. He finds your annoyed expressions way too entertaining.

𖣔He has a bad habit of stealing random items like your phone or snacks and holding them just out of reach until you chase him for it. It’s all in good fun, though—he always gives them back with a smug grin.

𖣔Wooin will playfully mock you about it—like mimicking a character from your favorite show or pretending to be clueless about it. But secretly, he loves seeing how passionate you are and might even look into it himself just to understand you better.

𖣔 Wooin is the type of guy who will act like he doesn't care about you even tho he clearly does. He'd try to maintain his calm, aloof demeanor but his actions would totally betray how much he cares about you.

𖣔 You don’t know about the drugs with sangho choi, as it could be too dangerous for you.

𖣔 He definitely stalks you.

𖣔 Even if your not in a relationship with him, Wooin would casually barge into your place without warning, acting like it's completely normal.

𖣔 Wooin would be the type to casually ask you to paint his nails, and it would come with his signature mix of nonchalance and lowkey affection. He’d drop the request in the middle of a conversation, like, “Hey, you should paint my nails,” as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He’s not shy about it, but he pretends it’s purely practical.

𖣔 Wooin gives off the vibe of someone who’s not into pda, but that doesn’t mean he’s not affectionate in his own way, he just show it in private.

𖣔 Does he get jealous ? Yeahh. Does he show it ? Noo.

𖣔 Wooin’s personality was a little weird in the start of your relationship, he would leave you constantly questioning where you stand with him, and it’s probably intentional on his part.

𖣔 I kinda see him as the type of guy who yaps a lot about you with his close one, so hyuk definitely knows about you, and maybe even joker.

𖣔 You see those people who always send cats videos saying “us” ? Well i think he would send you those stupid videos like this just to annoy you.

𖣔 Your friends definitely don’t like him, and always warn you about him. Why ? He’s a walking red flag but i guess you just can’t see it.( me too )

𖣔 He looks like he has a baby face, so i think those days when he barges into your house, you guys would just do nightcare and stuff like this while watching movies.

𖣔 Speaking of movies, i just know he loves horror movies, so during those nights when your watching movies, he would scare you for almost the whole movie, because “your face looks funny when your scared”

𖣔 When he sees you sleeping, he takes pictures of yours and can annoy you with those for days. He would also draws things on your face, and he would say nothing even if you go out like that.

𖣔 I don’t think he would see any problem with you wearing revealing clothes, i can’t say why but he gives this vibes.

✵

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker webtoon #windbreaker manhwa x reader #windbreaker manhwa #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #windbreaker webtoon x reader #windbreaker (yongseok jo)#wooin x reader #wooin yoo #wooin yoo x reader #yoo wooin #yoo wooin x reader #swrkn

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bejeweledraven · 2 years ago

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call it what you want

All the drama queens taking swings All the jokers dressin' up as kings They fade to nothin' when I look at him

relationship headcanons with the gotham villains

parrings: oswald cobblepot x gn!reader, ed nygma x gn!reader, victor zsasz x gn!reader, jerome valeska x gn!reader, jeremiah valeska x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

warnings: mentions of criminal activity, mentions of toxic and unhealthy behaviors in romantic relationships/mentions of unhealthy relationships

requested?: yes

request: anon: can i request general relationship hc with oswald cobblepot, ed nygma, victor zsasz, jerome valeska and jeremiah valeska with a gn reader

song prompt: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 1392

oswald cobblepot:

first and foremost his love language is 100% gift giving

it would be both subtle and dramatic

subtle, because he would never ask directly; he'd listen

was there something you were talking about currently? or maybe something you've wanted forever? he would pick up on the slightest mention of it

but like i said, it would also be dramatic

an artist you've been listening to lately? he'll make sure you have every possible record on vinyl and cd, concert tickets, merch

a car that you've dreamed of for years? in your driveway, with every possible upgrade

growing up he didn't have much, so he wanted to make sure someone that he cares about never feels like that

although he's not really the one for physical intimacy, there are some small gestures he really loves

great example are forehead kisses - long evenings after tiring days, right by the fire places

he might not be huge with PDA, but everyone knows that you're involved with each other, making you untouchable

and when i say everyone, i mean everyone; his enemies, his allies, his staff

his worst fear is someone hurting you to hurt him; makes him extremely protective, making sure you're safe 24/7

your relationship is the definition of "private, but not secret"

ed nygma:

although the pre and post riddler ed might have fair share of differences when it comes to dating, there's definitely a lot of similarities

for example, for ed you're always the number one priority, not matter what

the pre-riddler ed would cancel any plans for you (not that he had loads of those anyways lol)

it would take one phone call from you for him to drop everything and meet you somewhere

if ed liked you, he would have the hardest time telling you; even if you were involved with someone else, he would be your shoulder to cry on, no matter how much it broke his heart

once you got together he would need regular reassuring of how much he means to you

would be a combination of his own insecurities and how highly he thinks of you

both before and after you start dating, you smiling in his direction would be enough to make his day

post-riddler is much more confident, cares significantly less of what people think of him

but even given all of his confidence, his old insecurities still get the best of him

he would get very jealous at times

whenever he would suspect you could have feelings for someone else (which is a conclusion he makes way too rapidly) he would feel like the awkward and practically invisible technician working at the police station all over again

takes a ton of reassuring to for him to seem confident again- because deep down he will always feel like that to an extent

being his partner means being his best friend- it's such a special connection

he relies on your support so so much

although it took him a while to learn to come to you with his issues, you're definitely the best support system he's ever had, and he makes sure you know how much that means to him

victor zsasz:

one word: TEASING

so so so much teasing

oddly enough, this might be the healthiest relationship on the list

he has an understanding of personal space and time

i mean don't get it wrong: he WILL show up unannounced in your living room in the middle of the night on a random tuesday, just chilling on the couch because "he missed you"

but if there is ever a situation where you tell him that you need space and time alone, he just respects it

he has a very laid back attitude towards you, but if the situation requires he will act very quick to protect you; whether you disapprove of his methods or not

even though like i said he gives you space and time if needed, he has his subtle ways of knowing whether you're staying safe and out of trouble

i can for sure see him with a fellow assassin, even, or maybe especially, working for a rival gang

business is business, and he doesn't see a reason why it should interfere with his personal life after work

and the constant competition is kind of fun and exciting to him, which is ironic, given the line of work

one time you were ordered by your bosses to take each other out, and for shits and giggles you even pretended to attempt it, but gave up easily just cause you couldn't take one another and this whole situation seriously

overall it's a very playful relationship of equal time teasing and strong sense of protection, on both sides

jerome valeska:

the best word to describe the relationship with this man is 'rollercoaster'

with the highest of highs and lowest of lows

good moments make you feel on top of the worlds and bad moments make your stomach drop

no two days are the same with this guy

no surprise that he is very obsessive

the second he saw you and was utterly and completely fixated on you and you only

it was obsession at first sight for sure (bonus points if you met at arkham)

and you can't really blame yourself, he was very charming

just something completely captivating about him

although his attention is all over the place, he would make sure to always have a good look at you, even with the corner of his eye

he just needs you around 24/7

the respect for personal space and time? yeah don't really count on that

at a certain point there's some sort of addiction formed, where you can't really function without him either

say what you want about jerome, but his energy is absolutely infectious and sometimes you just need someone who will make you feel like you're on top of the world

another thing about him is that his obsessive sense of protection mostly extends to guarding you from the GCPD, but not really to a basic sense of safety

he will take you with him to all of his most dangerous heists, because he doesn't want you 'missing out on all the fun'

he regularly finds places to break into in the middle of the night, like theme parks and big malls, and just goes CRAZY

he is there to make any absurd wish of yours come true

if during the time where everyone just assumed he was dead you moved on with your life and god forbid found happiness with someone else- he is changing that the second he's back

jeremiah valeska:

the jeremiah before the transformation was paranoid about absolutely everything

including your safety, mostly because of jerome

his childhood made him put up this shield around him and it wasn't easy to let you into his life - but once he did he shielded you even more than he ever did for himself

if it was up to him, you'd never leave his super-secure home/facility, because he's that worried

and many times he's begged you do to so

out of sheer sense of protectiveness over you

but staying in a windowless bunker is not really easy for many people

and he knows that he can't really argue you on that, so all he has left is worrying until you're back

you always were back, and he had to fight the urge to beg you not to ever leave again

the post-transformation jeremiah is also insanely protective- with the added effect of more confidence is slight obsessiveness

his obsessiveness would be much more subtle than one that his brother displayed - jeremiah would just always know where you are and who you're with

he would go to actual insane measures to protect you; he'd burn entire cities if it meant keeping you safe

both before and after the transformation he's not really the best at communicating his feelings, but his way of making up for it is acts of service - subtle before transformation and less subtle after the transformation

oddly enough, he also became a lot more openly romantic than before, with grand, dramatic gestures

not that he wasn't romantic before; just in a lot more shy and delicate way

one thing never changed - how much keeping you safe meant to him

#gotham x reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #ed nygma x reader #riddler x reader #victor zsasz x reader #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #gotham headcanons #gotham x reader headcanons #gotham imagine

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sleepy-fiction · 2 months ago

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Weeping Clown Drabble

Weeping Clown x Reader. | Joker x Reader. 🤡🚀

syn: an exploration of your relationship with Joker post Hullabaloo game, detailing your relationship's sinful sicknesses and dove-like health.

tgs: fluff, angst, comfort fic, mild sex mentions, violetta lives (f u idv devs), NSFW but not smut, very sweet read! Not proofread

3k Word Estimate

Calm, quiet moments with the weeping clown.

Snuggly cuddling up with him, both of you undressed, with your body pressed against his. Laying serenely on his chest, his hands wrapped tight around your back, your face near his collarbones, the top of your head familiarizing itself with the bottom of his chin.

His prosthetic has long since been abandoned on the floor. He's in no hurry to leave not for a very long while. His breaths are slow and deep, his chest rising and falling, picking up your head and body before carrying them back down low. The warmth of his thighs envelope your legs on either side, and you've turned your hips a bit to give his private area some place. But you love being here, drowning in him.

The smell of his body, face paint, orange scented lotion, and wants of hair spray mingle in with your senses. Setting you at ease to his unique scent. The sounds of his breath the fireplace, and the generator outside the cabin humming away only added to the sunset hues that washed in from the window.

Ever since surviving the manor, the two of you have become so lazy.

Spending lazy morning wrapped up together, not knowing where Joker ends and you begin. And ending your long days the same way you began, only this time with full bellies and drained muscles from hard work.

Weeping was so warm. At times, he was his own heater. You always clocked it as the radiance from his heart ebbing out to the world, and how it melted on to your cheek. The covers were barely on you, they were tangled up somewhere beneath you and him, barely covering your bottom, simply because you couldn't let the muscles there get remotely cold.

And oh, how Joker's long, slanky arms trapped you to his radiance. The contrast of cold metal fingertips drumming up your body made you shudder, but they soon absorbed the mountains of heat the two of you created simply by holding each other.

And oh, how your ears were soon graced with a serene little melody. A raspy hum trailling out his strung body, as his chin shifts above you, all to place a much needed kiss against the top of your head. It's met with delighted chimes from you, chimes that only make him stay, aggresively peppering your head, each time growing stronger with a rough passion.

It's only when you squeak and wiggle your head that he finally comes too, sucking in a huge breath and flipping his head back where it belongs. He releases his sigh hard, as if he were merely drowning seconds ago, and is now coming up for much needed air.

The world felt like it was underwater before he let you in before he met you.

You met shortly after Hullabaloo broke down. He stole the carpentry job position you had been working so hard to get, earning more wages despite how long you had already been working there. You hated him, you were so envious. But then you learned of how sweet he was. How kind and thoughtful, how attentive he was to your needs. Then, almost like magic, the two of you clicked, and fell head over heels in love so suddenly.

You did everything in your power to slow things down, you were scared of love.

But his intimacy, his affections, that soft doey look in his eyes crept it's way around.

Then he got that letter.

He never told you much about that circus he used to work for. Not much other than it burned down, that nobody ever found the culprit. But you saw that look in his eyes. It was a look you had never-ever seen him wear.

It was this stiff, tormented look, like a veteran of war slowly dissociating, slowly shrinking away to horrid memories. He had this weird air about him since getting this letter. Serious, cold, quiet, distant, defensive... And you hate to say it, demented.

He was closing you out. You hated it.

And you hated even more how he decided to play that performance, despite how every part of his body seemed so distressed at the mere mention of it. Its like he didn't know the stress his body was displaying, like he didn't know it was bad.

It was hurting him, chewing away at him deeply, but he didn't even know it.

You knew it.

So you knew you wouldn't let him go alone.

You arrived at the manor with him. Watching him dress himself in this creepy, unsettling way. The makeup and get up of a clown, not the carpenter that you knew. Nothing was wrong about the makeup, it was fun, it was just the unsettling, wounded look in his eyes paired with that crazed, deluded smile of joy strung up on his lips.

He worried you so much. He acted so displaced. As if he were a character in a performance, trying so hard to pull the knives out of others while ignoring the lethal spear lodged in his back. You tried to hold him at night, but he was never in his room. The times you could get him alone, he could barely form coherent sentences, shaking and muttering, eyes lost in a cloud of delusion.

He was scaring you. So you held him, you swarmed him and trapped him there. Even when he tried to leave, ever so oddly in the middle of the night. You woke up (as for some estranged reason, you couldn't sleep at night, and had your own set of terrifying, unexplainable delusions), and kept him.

You wanted to leave early. Everyone there was acting strange. Everyone there was unsettled and holding back. All bottled up, each having their own twitch, their own characters that ignited when they were around eachother. And when the game itself started, you and the spider girl, were forced to sit out as the "audience". The blonde from before, whose name you've slowly begun to forget, liked to called you the "Judge" or an unbiased set of eyes.

You sat in a tent with the spider, watched the blonde dress himself as a clown, and hide away. And Weeping, a girl who you've assumed was "Natalie," entered in shortly after, ignoring both you and the spider; as any character before, an audience should.

Shortly after.

Things unfolded.

You learned the truth about your clown the hard way. And the blonde, the blonde became so obsessed with your "verdict" of Joker.

It was horrifying. Horrifying how his hounding of you started this weird, unnatural reaction from the spider and the clown. They morphed into... Creatures you didn't know.

You were barely able to calm the clown down through your fear, but it didn't stop how Mike too began to warp from his own confusion.

And when your verdict came.

"All of you are guilty."

You said those words not knowing the backstory behind the circus hullabaloo, behind this "Sergei" or anything else. Only knowing the chaos that unfolded between the spider, the clown, and the acrobat of the hullabaloo circus.

Somehow, somehow you were able to end the cat and mouse chase. Somehow, somehow you escaped, tugging along Joker- Joker who looked large and monstrous along with you with all of your might. You fought so hard to bring him with you, fighting tooth in nail, fighting like a rat backed into a corner.

And when you finally arrived home, slept it off, the days following it where filled with the bitter weeping of your beloved clown. He tried to tell you all of it, sober, no longer overcome with whatever it was that the manor made you all feel. But you didn't let him.

You let the chapter be closed. You let the story end there. You felt you didn't need to understand it all, and he didn't deserve to relive it all over again.

So you held him.

You held him until the spring sun sprung up after winter's thick clouds. You took care of him, with him, until the sun's rays helped kindle the little fire in his heart. You encouraged him until your little carpenter returned.

You supported him as he stood slowly on his own too feet again. As he washed away his facepaint of yore, as he peeled back his deathly cloak of shame, leaving himself open and vulnerable. You encouraged him, gave him his space when needed, and moved and breathed, slowly reclaiming your own sanity, your own normalcy.

Your home began to smell like wood, pollen began to flood the late winter air. You supported him until the day he saw the first flower of spring, a lonely daisy poking up from melting snow, and smiled-- truly smiled. He cracked a soft joke, forlorn and filled of admiration, "Un-bud-lievable..."

As daisies always were his favorite flower.

Then, on, things began to weave together. The sun had turned a cheek and showed his face again. And though you knew he felt undeserving of it, you were so proud, so proud he lived yet another day with you. So proud of the way he bounced again, the way color filled his cold winter cheeks.

The sounds of sneezing and tissue blowing filled your lonely little cabin, despite his misery, it brought you boundless joy. And God, you were ever so proud, and ever so overjoyed, by the string of flower-related jokes. By mid-spring, your pride mellowed out into a new feeling.

A yearning no longer satisfied by long hugs. Byt tart kisses, or soft cuddles.

Soon, most of your mid spring evenings were filled with passion and almost frantic, love-making.

The kind that was crazed, like love birds on their honeymoons, burning with a mutual desire, and an overwhelming acceptance. A connection, a fire that complemented your compatability, your natural, almost primal, sexual synergy. The desires of your nights were long, chaotic, arranging in an array of vibrant stars and vivid colors. Vivid new ways to explore eachother, vivid ways to love and feel. From the teary eyed, sobbing, sweet and gratefully adventures, to the wild, crazed, barbaric takeovers, he felt whole. He came out healed from each one. Gaining more understanding. No. More acceptance of himself, despite the intensity of his sins.

And by the time the stormy, rainy April came around, Joker could finally say, with full confidence that he was truly himself again.

All thanks to you, guiding him in the way of intimate, unconditional love. Love that was loyal, love that was all his, love that rewarded, love that took yet never destroyed, love that changed yet never rejected, love that was soft and quiet. Love that was gentle and accepting.

Love of an easy yolk.

So here he confident lays beneath you, warming up your normally frosty body, after a thunderstorm that's aftermath clicked on the low, tidy hum of your home's generator. Laying uncomfortably beneath stringed sheets, yet too lazy to get up, knowing how his back will be accosted. But loving every second, of your lovely, purring body, that was devoted only to him.

How lucky was he, to be saved by you. To feel your feather-falling mercy and selfless support, even when you fail to understand him, you over tender unconditional care. Care of which, you claim, he first gave you endlessly. Something he will forever fail to see. So he continues to drown you in the same gentle, ever-budding, open ears and providing arms.

Warming you with his natural summer sunshine, the way you, his tender spring moonlight, loved.

Humming, joking, professing to you, everlasting.

Holding the key to your very essence, and supplementing the cry of your body.

His dearest, his love, his savior.

He swallows thickly, staring at the ceiling, feeling blood begin to rush to his downstairs.

Ah, who was he kidding? He was no poet, simply a horny, obsessive clown with a knack for carpentry work.

And damn.

His face flushes, his hips shift.

Your soft body was wonderland all over.

So, as any predictable fool would, Joker stutters out of his sweet cleft lips, "My d-dear... Make love with m-me yet again."

And you're ready in seconds.

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saint-petah-the-good · 1 month ago

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My pookie Joker

#full metal jacket #private joker #private joker x reader #private cowboy #drawings #draw

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koiiiji · 1 year ago

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Hello! This is my first time asking a question and I don't know if that's how it's done, but if it's okay, could I do some HC's about Vinny as the older brother of a female reader who feels a certain attraction wooin? I'm sorry if you don't understand! English is not my first language TT

author note : firstly thank you for your request!! it is exactly how you doing it, just explaining your ideas and oh gosh saying hi/hello! also don’t worry, i understood everything, eng isn’t my first language either😭

secondly, wooin is literally drug dealer who approximately 23+(?) and if vinny (19) would have younger sister she probably same age or younger.. so i don’t want to be annoying person and reject your request so let’s just imagine that reader would be older sister or like twin and few minutes older🥹

pairing : wooin x vinny’s sis! reader

tws: sfw, friend’s sister, angst, wooin being cocky unserious

✧ and first things said first vinny isn’t happy.

✧ he aware of what wooin doing and generally doesn’t count sabbath as his friends, he simply wants to win championships and prove to himself and to everyone that he is worth something.

✧ vinny feels high responsibility for you and your mom as he is a only man in family who should protect his girls. so he doesn’t count you as older one, even if you always joke about it. he also not really happy about your presence in any of his teams.. like woman, what are you even doing here, go to school and mind your own business (he is grumpy but in loving way, don’t get him wrong)

✧ so your attendance in sabbath crew isn’t welcome, at least by vinny. with everyone else it’s questionable - hyeok honestly doesn’t care, as long as you don’t cause any additional headache and loud, and he can have banana milk he is okay with you. hajun also usually doesn’t care about your presence, he find you nice girl, and may share small talk with you when you pet his puppy, but nothing serious, he is happy that he have boys as younger siblings, because he couldn’t stand company like sabbath for his sister.

✧ and here we go with wooin. boy has no boundaries in communication, he knows that you are old enough to make your own decisions, so dissatisfied looks from your brother won’t stop him.

✧ believe me - he knows about your attraction towards him, he isn’t stupid and he have eyes, he see with what kind of look you gave him each time.

✧ but does he share same emotions towards you? low possibility. same as joker he understands vinny’s feelings at some point, he wouldn’t be happy if his sister would hang out or even date someone like him, but he still is very cocky type of guy, and he doesn’t mind your company at all as long as you don’t bring up any serious topics.

✧ he likes attention, and especially he likes attention from pretty girls like you, so he would definitely joke around with you, flirt, having your contact under cute name, but it never something too serious, same with physical contact - as he gives vibe of really touch starved guy - yes, he may hug you, hold you under elbow, pat your head and touch your shoulders, he may buy you drinks or snacks time to time, but nothing more, like he wouldn’t let you go into his private life, he have his limits.

✧ for him it would be some kind of game, and he genuinely thought that you have same feelings like him - nothing serious, just sharing some flirting jokes, some unspoken tension, but he would never talk about it. he wouldn’t be happy if you bring up topic about feelings either. he expect you to just move on from it when you get bored by simple jokes, light hugs and no first steps from him.

✧ wooin doesn’t believe in friendship between girl and boy, if it only friendship with benefits, then it could work for him. but he would rather again start working with that white haired bitch sangho then have friendship with benefits with you, because wooin just knows that your brother will not just kill him, but make him suffer from what he did to you.

✧ so all in all if you okay to just some flirting time to time, every night thoughts “does he really likes me?or he just act that way”, instability in communication and generally some trauma from emotional swings you are in right place!!

✧ but don’t worry, you always have juwon who shows suspiciously more annoying attention☠️

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

author note : goshhhh sorry!! i didn’t expect to write this as angst, but it was very first thing that came up when i saw your request!! B-B-BUT, i still genuinely believe that as long as wooin would find someone who he really attracted to he would act differently!!

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #webtoon #x reader #imagine #wooin sabbath #wooin #wooin x reader #wooin windbreaker #sabbath x reader #sabbath crew #headcanon

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honey-flustered · 6 months ago

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Kinktober Day 12: Coulrophilia + DDLG

Joker!Ghoul-ish!Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Harley Quinn!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dark!cooper & dark!reader, tame ddlg, coulrophilia (attraction to clowns), Freaky crazy clowns, toxic af relationship, age gap, yandere x yandere, 60s Gotham-like AU, Reader was Cooper’s TV Daughter, Cooper has a joker-like backstory, joker and harley references. Reader has Harley Quinn-like backstory, violence, blood kink, fingering, squirting, kissing, lots of pet names (sugar, princess, sweetheart, etc.), they are very bad people, curvy/short!reader

Summary: You are the partner in crime of a dangerous man known as “The Ghoul”; a half-monstrous, half-human clown prince of crime. He also happens to be your “Daddy” too.

A/N: I’m keeping up with the ghoul-ish theme for Cooper for kinktober to go with idea I have of him where he kinda looks like dabi from bnha where like he’s half-radiation burned and other half- human. Hope yall see the vision cause I’ve thought about how cool that would be for a while.

Cooper was once a good man. A simple family man. In fact, he was on the screens of every family in America—regarded as one of the greatest movie stars of all time.

But then…he had a bad day and all it takes is one bad day to bring the most sanest man alive to the brink of insanity. Just one fateful decision that would eventually lead to one long comically bad day.

Picture this: Cooper is at the point in which he’s tired of being lied to and kept in the dark from his wife’s work with Vault-Tec. Unable to keep away, He sneaks into the private and heavily secured facility, gathering damning intel along with the sinister truth. In a slip-up during a security round of a particular unit, Cooper found himself trapped in and ended up falling into a vat of chems that injured him beyond recognition.

He was sure to die. He thought he would. But when he woke up in the hospital not only did this confirm otherwise but it also confirmed that he’d been caught. And from there a series of losses began in just the spiral of a day. His wife was leaving him, taking their only daughter, his last credited role was from a now canceled TV series; and he’d even lost his dazzling looks.

He was now a ghost of himself. A ghoul. Parts of his human form were overshadowed by the singed flesh that encased large parts of him. Like a Frankenstein’s monster of sorts.

He’d tried being a good man. A simple family man. But look where that path has led him. This world wasn’t built for men like him. And so he gave in to the dark parts of himself.

It’s funny how the world knows just who to send into your life to completely flip it upside down because you thought you’d never see Cooper again. In a way, you could say that you were right. Because sitting right across from you��that isn’t the wholesome TV Dad you’ve had the pleasure to work with…oh no, he is ‘The Ghoul’.

There he is before you; red stained lips painted into a wicked smile, green-dyed hair slicked back in a suave style, smoking a cigar and looking like the mafia boss that he is despite wearing the all white clothing associated with the asylum. The bottom half of his face from his bottom lip and jaw down to neck and shoulders are web-like flesh stapled together like he’d been built up like a puzzle. Somehow, he’s still so very handsome.

“Look ‘atcha,” He smirks, ogling you up and down. “My, my…you’ve grown. Even got yourself that psychology degree you’ve been tellin’ me you wan’ed to go back to school for. Proud of ya, kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Howard,” You say before adjusting your glasses and leaning forward. “I was rather intrigued when I heard that I’d get to meet the new you. Colleagues told me it’d be a bad idea taking you as my patient considering how much I’ve once looked up to you.“

He chuckles. “Ya know, the universe can be quite the prankster. You remember that lil’ joke I made about bein’ a patient of yours someday…” The chains from the metal cuffs around his wrists rattle when gestures to himself. “I reckon I shoulda specify what kind of patient I’d be.“

“It’s a shame we have to meet under these circumstances. But I’m glad we’ve crossed paths.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks, leaning in as well. “Why’s that, sugar?”

“Because I want to help you.” You simply say.

“I already know I’m fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart. I don’t need a shrink to talk my ear off ‘bout it.”

“No, Mr. Ghoul, I want to help you…burn Vault-Tec to the fucking ground,” You clarify. “And when there’s nothing left, I want to dance on its ashes. I want to reveal the evil truth to the people and start a fucking revolution. I want chaos. Anarchy. And I want…I want to be with you.”

You slip your fingers into one of your thigh-high stockings and pull out a key you retrieved from an unsuspecting prison guard. Cooper watches on as you remove his cuffs with a pleased yet astonished expression. You tenderly rub the indented marks on his wrist. “I’ve always loved you. Even before we’d ever met—I was your biggest fan.”

He stands with an aura of intimidation and raw assertion, an intense gaze in his eyes as he saunters closer to you. You quickly rise to your feet, anticipating his embrace.

Cooper’s large hands shoot up around your neck, squeezing. Not hard enough to cut off any air circulation but just enough to drag your body against his.

He plants a messy kiss onto your lips. There’s teeth nipping at the soft, plush of your lips and his thick tongue lick the surface and the inside of your mouth. It’s so sloppy and purposefully so and you don’t care how freaky it is.

You are sure by now that his white face paint and the crimson shade of his lips have now transferred to your lips. Or could it be blood from the little nick he’d given you on your lips. You aren’t sure but it only added on to your arousal.

He pulls away, blood staining lips and just beneath his nose. “Well, I’m sure glad you chose to come home to daddy because if you weren’t by my side—why I’d just have to kill ya,” He laughs, removing a hand from your neck to cradle the back of your head. “Thatta girl. Now let’s get outta this shithole.”

“I know a secret exit we can—”

“Sorry, sugar, but I’d rather leave with a bang,” He winks suggestively, taking you by the arms to face you away from him and bend you over the table; the side of your face is pressed against the cold metal. You feel his erection weighing hot and heavy against your ass as he lays himself over you for a moment, lips against your ears to growl a command. “Don’t hold back yer screams for me, princess. Let ‘em all hear what I’m doin’ to ya.”

Just as you feel your lace panties being pulled to the side, four guards come barging into the room and shout for his compliance.

“Get the fuck off of her.” One guard shouts, laying a heavy hand on the Ghoul’s shoulder. Ghoul’s military training comes into play as he uses the very key that set him free to repeatedly jab into the accessible and vulnerable armpit of the guard.

He cries out in pain nursing the wound that now bleeds profusely and too distracted by this he fails to protect his gun, allowing Cooper to lift it from his belt and shoot into the shoulder of another guard who’d drawn his gun at him. In a shocking twist, you witness one prison guard turn on his last fellow guard, shooting him right in the knees.

“What about the girl?” The traitor prison guard questions, pointing a weapon against your head as you remain trembling against the table. You’ve never seen anything like this!

The ghoul steals a handkerchief from a prison guard who’d been struggling to reach his radio strewn across the room. Cooper nonchalantly wipes away the excess blood on his hands before picking up his cuban cigar from the ashtray. You awaited in nervous anticipation as he decided to take a draw from it instead of answering him, bellowing out the smoke in your direction and clouding your view of him for a few seconds.

His hard gaze begins to soften, charming you with his famous smile. “She’s just dandy to me.”

He holds a hand out to you and you squeal with glee, standing up on wobbly knees to jump into his arms.

“Come on, sugar. We’ve got some catchin’ up to do,” He holds you tight against him before indiscreetly whispering to his minion. “Finish the job, will ya? But do it only after we leave the room. Wouldn’t want to traumatize my princess ‘less it’s done by my hand.”

“You got it, boss.” The minion says. And withthat the Ghoul carries you over the threshold of what was once your own prison in a metaphorical sense.

The Ghoul makes do with his promise and causes a huge debacle within the asylum. By the time you’d both leave the building, it was like a circus. There were patients everywhere running amuck with doctors and nurses failing to control them, alarms going off, and you think there might have even been a fire started. It was perfect.

Outside a limo awaits the two of you, it looks like he’d been planning his escape all along. Whether that included you, you didn’t care. He may not be the same Cooper you fell for, the one whom you once saw as a father figure—Hell, he’s batshit fucking insane but somehow it makes your heart beat a mile a minute and the attraction only triples but his new appearance.

You pull him for yet another kiss, flames in the background are like fireworks. You could get lost in it if it weren’t for the damn police and fire truck sirens going off.

“Looks like that’s our cue to scram.” He opens the door for you which is interesting that he can still be so chivalrous. You smile just like the princess he names you to be and you enter and never look back.

Now you are a part of that darkness, feeding each other’s wickedness. The two of you have shed your clothes and in turn shed those identities. No longer did he don the all white clothing of an asylum patient. When he looks into the mirror —past the charred half of his flesh- he sees that of a crime-lord with weapons hung close to his body as if it were an accessory to his pin-striped suits. And you’d shed your past life, burning your white lab coat. You were now his and he, yours. And of course as a daddy’s girl, you’d do anything to mirror his image, adapting his twisted clown aesthetic.

Newspapers had a field-day writing about your descent to madness from America’s sweetheart to the other-half of a crazy crime duo. They call it a match made in hell, you call it the greatest love story ever.

But sometimes it does get exhausting when you want to spend time with your lover when there’s so many factors that prevents you from spending time with him! Vault-Tec, Vigilantes, Betrayers, and Barb! Just thinking about her makes you angry.

Why can’t they all just let you enjoy your chaotic lives in peace?!

Currently, The Ghoul is handling a business transaction with an informant from Vault-Tec who made claims of a nuclear war in the making with a plan to make the middle class pay for it. You’re more than happy to set your plan in motion to create a threatening video message to the company using the informant as a hostage, hoping you’ll finally get some time with Coop but he wants to take things slow.

“It’s chess not checkers, darlin’.” He’d comment and you’d just have to accept it. But today was meant to be your anniversary and he’d decided to take time out of your day to do business!

You claw your acrylics through the newspaper you’d been reading with an old picture of Cooper and Barb on the front page with a headline about their once fiery romance. That was the last straw.

Your sharp cat-like acrylics claw into the flimsy newspaper material you held in your hands, poking through the page from back to front and straight through the eyes of your lover and his ex-wife. The headline of their past fiery romance pushes you over the edge.

You shred the paper into bits, flinging it into the air like confetti. The tears are blinding, mascara running down your cheeks as you rise to your feet and go over to retrieve something from his ‘secret’ drawer from his office.

In the highest heels you own, you’re strutting angrily and briskly up the long-winded stairs and through the spacious halls of his large penthouse. His staff know better than to get in your way, jumping out of your path with terrified looks the moment they lay eyes on you.

You may be a curvier girl but you were a lot shorter in height than most people you knew. And most people you knew usually wouldn’t be intimidated by such a woman of your stature, not of course, if said woman happened to be wielding a .45 caliber pistol in hand.

If hell hath no fury than a woman scorned then it is in everyone’s best interest to mind their goddamn business.

You see red. Tunnel vision. Nothing else existed in this moment other than the man you hope to kill.

“Cooper!” You shout, pounding hard against the double ivory doors of his conference room before throwing them open.

The audience in the room turns their heads in your direction, expressions of confusion morphing into horror. You could hear the faint murmurs of his patrons murmuring about knowing you from TV.

The Ghoul is the last to raise his eyes at you, expelling air from his nostrils in frustration. He’s yet to speak up, watching the scene unfold from his big boss chair.

“Ya’ll better skedaddle or little blue’s gonna sing,” You threaten causing the crowd to quickly flee, some clutching their grand-theft stolen pearls as they do so. Once you're satisfied with the emptied room, you close the doors behind you and lock them for safe measures. You raise the gun at him, hands shaking. “You still love her, don’t you? The day you decided to leave the facility…to take me as yours…that was on your anniversary date, wasn’t it? I thought this day was special for us. But you used me. You just want her attention.”

He’s neither terrified nor angry. He just seems…inconvenienced. Bored with it all, he rolls his eyes as he begins fixing up his paperwork. “Couldn’t this have waited until after my meeting? I’ve got a job to do. I don’t need any of your distractions.”

“You think I’m a distraction,” You squeak, hurt by his suggestion. A rage consumes you so violently that you think of the first thing that'll quench your fire. In one fell swoop, you swipe your arm on the table and throw his paperwork and office supplies onto the ground scattering them everywhere. Now he’s furious, jaw clenching as he stares daggers at you. You can tell he’s deciding a punishment for you. “You said we belonged together! We were supposed to forge the world side by side. How could you say that I’m just a distraction?”

“I said, ‘your distractions’. As in, all the bullshit you do on a daily basis. Now be quiet.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

“No.” You stand your ground, adjusting your posture so that you appear even taller than you already are in your heels. You know he hates it when people tower over him.

He slams his hands on the table before rising to his feet slowly. He makes it a point to stand as close to you as possible so that he’s the one towering over you now. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” You snarl. “Maybe…I should find her, hmm? I should find her and kill her. I’ll do it. You think I wouldn’t?”

“Sweet pea, I know you would and I don’t care if you do,” He laughs, cupping your face in his large hands. “She took my Janey from me. I ain’t seen her in years. Barb is my lightning rod, all my aggression is accredited to her. If she were gone, sure it’d make things really boring for me but that’s just it. And as for you, princess, well…yer a pretty young thing—real cute—but I’m one making the commands here.”

“But we’ve done so much together. We made them lose profits. We pushed forward a smear campaign for one of the senior executives that made him disappear off the grid. That was a team effort!”

“And I appreciate your support, lil’ angel. You really do make yo papa proud,” His thumb traces your lips before he roughly grips your jaw, making you look him in the eye. His rings bite into the skin of your cheeks. “Now why don’t you give me a pretty smile? If yer good for it, I might let you sit on my lap.”

You yank away from his grasp, cocking the gun. “I’ll fucking kill you. I thought when you came into my life to silence my demons. But you’ve only danced with them. I’m so screwed up in the head because I loved you. But if you die, I’ll be free.”

For a moment, he looks genuinely scared but then he gives you a wicked smirk.

“You wouldn’t. You could never kill me. How do you think you’ll be able to go on livin’ after it’s done? The second I’m gone, you wouldn’t last not even a millisecond without me,” He steps forward, closing the gap between you once again. “That’s how pathetic you are. You need somethin’ in your life to cling on and that’s me. I’m your lifeline. Whether you like it or not, your heart knows you're bound to me. A year of fleetin’ kisses and light touches; I’ve not fucked you once and still yer this weak for me. I could only imagine how obedient you’ll be when I pop your precious cherry.”

“Fuck you,” Hot tears and mucus continue to run down your face as you unrelentingly held the pistol up to his chest. “Fuck you, Cooper. Maybe I won’t live long after I kill you, but I’ll be seeing you in hell.”

You pull the trigger only instead of a lead bullet, a foam-like bullet with a suction end sticks to his chest. It appears to be a strange child’s toy. You examine it with confusion before looking up at his fuming expression.

You begin to laugh nervously, dropping the toy on the ground to give a quirky shrug of your shoulders. “Oopsies.”

“I didn’t think I’d hide actual guns anywhere near the likes you, did you?” He sneers. “You fucking shot me.”

“But you didn’t die.”

“Anything you’ve got to say for yourself?”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat. “S-sorry…daddy.”

He raises his hand and you flinch, fearing that this’ll be the day he finally raises a hand on you. Instead, he places it on your head, petting it softly.

“My good girl,” He praises, much to your confusion. “What am I going to do with you?”

Your eyes sparkle with love and admiration, throwing yourself into his arms. “You still love me?”

“Of course, I still love you,” He coos, soothing a hand down your back that’s exposed by the style of your mini blue satin dress. “I’ve never had a woman love me this intensely. You almost killed me, woman. That makes me so hard.”

He guides your dainty hand over his hardening clothed cock. “Do you feel that, sugar?” He rasps. “You’ve done this to me simply for being crazy as shit. No woman’s ever made me feel this way, not even Barb..”

“Y-you mean that, daddy-o?”

“From the bottom of my heart,” He brushes his nose against yours. “Do you see how passionately in love we are for each other? You never have to question my devotion for you even if Barb’s around, no one could replace you. There’s just so many things you do that she could never do as good as you.”

“Like what?” You blink up innocently.

“You always know just the right thing to make me feel good.” He hints, sitting back on his executive chair with his legs spread.

You sink to your knees, sitting in between his legs. Cooper loves oral sex, both giving and receiving. He’s been so busy with work that rarely had time for either but you’ll gladly keep giving it up whenever you can. And maybe eventually, he’ll officially claim you in bed.

Your hands reach for his zipper when he halts your movements. He stares intensely into your eyes while wrapping one pigtail around his scarred hand. “You don’t deserve to taste me. You’ve maxed out your strikes for the day,” He begins to recount. “Strike one, you interrupted my meeting. Strike two, you were a rude pest. Strike three, you tried to kill me. For these reasons, I want you to sit beside me like a good little girl for the rest of my meeting. I shall have a punishment ready for you by then.”

“But—“

“Silence,” He tugs hard, forcing you to rise slightly. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you. I want you as silent as the ground I walk on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whine.

He places a kiss on your forehead before releasing you. With a push of a button, he makes an announcement on the intercom for his staff to lead his patrons back into the conference room.

“Remember, my dove: not a peep out of you.” He orders.

You watch on the rest of the meeting with awe, head in your hands as you dreamily sigh up at him as plotted away. After sometime, the members of his team exit the room after the Ghoul approves their dismissal.

Alone again at last, you hop into his lap, making the two of you spin in his upholstered chair. He humors you, forehead against yours and a reserved smile on his face.

“You were so amazing, daddy-o! I bet they’ll never think to underestimate you again. The plan is just diabolical!” You exclaim. “How are you real?”

“I ask myself this at times.” He replies smugly, rubbing circles in your back. If you continued to praise him like this, he just might disregard punishing you.

“I know I’ve been a bad girl and I don’t deserve it but may I please kiss you?” You ask, playing with his tie.

“You may.” He approves.

You squeal giddily before planting your lips onto his with a hungry desire that has you both moaning into the kiss. Your hands find comfort in his hair, ruining its assembly. Most days, Cooper would curse you for this but today he’s in such good spirits because everything is going his way. He slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The telephone rings and he breaks away with a groan reaching for it on the table while his other hand continues to trace his fingers lightly up and down your back. While he’s occupied in conversation, you kiss all over his neck, leaving lipstick kisses behind.

“Excellent, I’ll be sure to watch.” He says with a smile.

“Daddy-o’?” You question.

He simply takes a remote off his desk and presses a button that mechanically parts the large velvet curtains to the side, revealing the big clear window behind it. Different colors burst into the sky of reds, greens, blues and yellow and you recognize them as actual fireworks.

You stand from his lap, walking over to the large window to gaze in at its glory. He’d successfully executed a plan you’d been telling him about for months; setting off an explosion at one of the milk factories that an ex owned. A factory far in the distance that you could see from the penthouse’s height, cursing it every day because it ruined your view of the city. And now Cooper has taken it out…for you. God, you love this man.

“Happy Anniversary, princess.” He says from behind, kissing you on your neck.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me,”Your eyes sparkle in the light, clapping and laughing with pure glee at the spectacle. “Oh, I could only imagine how funny it would have been to see the look on his face.”

Cooper presses another button and sure enough your ex is on the news, having a fit about it while you and Cooper laughed as if it were the funniest thing on earth.

Swept up by the moment, you kissed him passionately, messing up his makeup and your own as blended into an odd mix of colors.

His thick fingers find their way between your legs, moving past your damp panties to plunge into your hot, wet core. You gasp against his lips, nails sinking into his dress shirt for support as you grind down on them.

“I love you, Daddy.” You cry out happily, breathing quicken with the pumping of his fingers. If it weren’t for your back against the window, your buckling knees would have taken you down.

“I love you, too, sugar. You’re so good for me.” He praises, thrusting so particularly deep into you that your eyes cross and you gush your honeyed slick into his palm. “Always been daddy’s little monster.”

That name is enough to tip you over the edge, tightening your hand around his wrist when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train. You whine and tremble when he continues his ministrations inside of you curling is finger perfectly while his meaty palm added friction to your throbbing clit. You’re sobbing at the overstimulation, soaking his hand, down your legs and his pants. He laughs at your catatonic state; the babbling and drool down your chin makes you look about as mad as an asylum patient. The aftershocks flow through you like a tidal wave as you shake against his hard body.

He’s only merciful to stop when you begin to clamp his hand between your thighs to keep him from moving any further.

When you come down, you give him a dopey smile and say, “Boy, seeing a building blow up like that makes me want to ‘blow’ something else?”

#cooper howard x reader smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard/the ghoul x reader #fallout au #fallout prime #fallout fanfiction #walton goggins #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #chubby!reader #dark!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #walton goggins fanfic #character x reader #harley quinn joker au

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cailinsblog · 11 months ago

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Sunshine and Laughter on the Beach

Lando Norris x reader

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over a secluded, private beach somewhere along the Mediterranean coast. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore created a serene backdrop for a day of relaxation and fun. Among the group of friends enjoying the idyllic setting were Lando Norris, his girlfriend Y/N, and their adorable little girl, Lilly.

Lando had organized the beach day as a break from the intense world of Formula 1. He wanted to spend some quality time with his family and friends, away from the hustle and bustle of the racing circuit. Alongside them were Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo, and several other F1 drivers, all eager to unwind and enjoy the beautiful weather.

Y/N spread out a large beach blanket under the shade of a palm tree while Lando played with Lilly near the water's edge. The little girl, just two years old, was a bundle of energy and curiosity, her laughter ringing out as she toddled after the waves.

"Lando, be careful with her near the water!" Y/N called out, her voice filled with both love and a hint of worry.

Lando turned and flashed her a reassuring smile. "I've got her, love. Don't worry!"

He scooped Lilly up in his arms and spun her around, her giggles blending with the sound of the sea. Charles, Carlos, and the others watched from their spot on the sand, amusement and affection evident in their expressions.

"Look at those two," Charles said with a chuckle. "Lando's a natural with kids."

Carlos nodded, grinning. "Who would've thought our fierce competitor would be such a softie?"

As Lando and Lilly made their way back to the group, he gently set her down on the blanket next to Y/N. "How about a snack, little one?" he asked, reaching into the cooler for some fruit.

Lilly clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes, Daddy! Apples, please!"

Y/N handed Lilly a slice of apple, and she munched on it happily. Lando lay down beside them, his head propped up on one arm as he watched his daughter with adoration.

"She's growing up so fast," Y/N said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Lilly's face.

Lando nodded, his gaze never leaving Lilly. "I know. I want to cherish every moment."

The other drivers joined them on the blanket, forming a relaxed circle. Daniel, ever the joker, started building a sandcastle with Lilly, making exaggerated gestures and funny faces to keep her entertained.

"Uncle Daniel is so silly!" Lilly exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight.

"That's right," Daniel said, grinning. "And this sandcastle is going to be the best one on the beach!"

Lando watched the scene with a smile, feeling a profound sense of happiness. These moments, away from the pressures of racing, were what he treasured most. He leaned over and kissed Y/N on the cheek. "Thank you for always being here, for making these moments possible."

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

As the day wore on, the group enjoyed swimming in the crystal-clear water, playing beach volleyball, and simply basking in the sun. At one point, Lilly, tired from all the excitement, curled up in Lando's lap and fell asleep.

"Looks like someone's had enough fun for one day," Charles remarked, his eyes softening at the sight.

Lando gently stroked Lilly's hair, his expression tender. "She'll wake up soon, ready for round two."

Carlos snapped a picture on his phone, capturing the sweet moment. "This is going in the album. It's not every day we see Lando being such a doting dad."

The group laughed, the camaraderie and warmth of their friendship palpable. As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the beach, Lando carefully stood up, still holding the sleeping Lilly, and walked to the water's edge with Y/N.

They stood there in silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Lando looked at Y/N, his eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N leaned in and kissed him softly. "I love you too, Lando. More than anything."

They turned back to the group, where the laughter and chatter continued, the bond of friendship stronger than ever. With Lilly still nestled in Lando's arms, they joined their friends, ready to savor the remaining moments of a perfect day.

In that fleeting time, surrounded by love, laughter, and the beauty of the beach, they knew they were creating memories that would last a lifetime. And for Lando, the happiness he felt being with Y/N and Lilly was worth more than any trophy or victory on the track. It was the true victory of his heart.

#formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #classic f1 #mclaren f1 #f1 #lando norizz #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc

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honey-milk-depresso · 1 year ago

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Batboys x reader who is a game/singer streamer

So I'm assuming that s/o is a singer + game streamer from what I can see soooo yeah! I think I went to focus on the gamer part than singer though. Also I could only do this for Dick, Jason and Tim because 😭 sorry ;-;;;

TT o TT

Batboys with a game (mostly) + singer s/o

Dick Grayson

Don’t even get me started on how hype Dick’s gonna be. You game??? And stream?????? Epic-

Dick has played video games with Tim before it’s just that he sucks at playing the modern one sometimes-, so he probably wants to do co-ops with you and maybe join your streams and play with you.

He sucks ASS though in Among Us because he’s bad at lying when he’s imposter and too trusting when he’s just a crew mate. He’s so funny though when you record him while playing with you and your other streamer friends.

“Awww, look at me and s/o walking together and building snowmen! We are so—”

*Kills him* “…” “s/O WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK UP WITH MEEEEEEE????”*loud sobbing*

Obviously, no, it’s just what you had to do as an imposter and you have to apologise to your sulky boyfriend.

Fun fact: bought your two of those matching cat ears headphones and he’s so sappy, dear god- he loves those earphones.

Also your voice?? IT’S SO GOOD??? You made your own songs and that’s so cool!! No wonder your fanbase is so big, damn-

And he’s obviously your biggest fan! <

Jason Todd

He’s trying, he really is. Because the last thing he played before he died were Game Boys and then he awoken to Wii Games, Nintendo Switches and whatever the fuck those online games are.

Those sus game ads he clicked randomly made him question what happened when he was still dead-

Jason thinks it’s pretty cool you stream gaming content and all, although don’t ask him to play any RPG with you because he’ll rage quit. He will go insane.

Jason keeps insisting on wanting to join your streams in Among Us but like come on- WE ALL KNOW HE’S GONNA START RAGING MORE-

When he gets killed, he calls the imposter a “Joker” 💀 Sometimes you have to calm him down and tell him it’s their role as imposter to do this. Also, when he gets imposter, he’ll kill everyone except you. Like he’s your bodyguard or something and everyone’s out to get you. You don’t even need to be imposter. If you did kill him before, he’ll kill you back though-

He’s okay if you let him play Minecraft together though, he finds it peaceful (on creative mode).

Listens to your songs on repeat while he’s repairing vehicles or hear it live on your stream when he’s reading. Wholesome supportive boyfriend stuff. <3

Tim Drake

Immediately follows all forms of social media you have, and give subs to every time you go live and stream. No hesitation.

He thinks it’s cool you stream games and all, something he wished to do but just doesn’t have much time to do so, and that he has no idea how to start up a fanbase anyways so-

Tim would join your streams every once in a while to play with you and he doesn’t mind any sort of games, he’s pretty good with the controller… well, maybe RPG. Because if he’s doing a multiplayer game like with Genshin needing to join servers and all, most of the time, people wouldn’t listen to his plans and end up dying and then he goes berserk. Only you listen s/o… wHY?? WHY DOES NOBODY LISTEN TO HIS STRATS????

Also, cat ears headphones?? He has one and he looks so cute in it and would ask if you want one too- he only wears those headphones in private though, or in front of you.

Anyways, Tim loves your singing too! Would listen it live or hear it on Spotify if it’s available. If you sing covers, it’s gonna ruin him. He can’t listen to the original track anymore because it’s just not the same-

Overall, gamer boyfriend you got here. <3

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cut-the-camera · 2 months ago

Text

Bojan Cvjetićanin with a Formula 1 Driver Boyfriend

Bojan x Male! F1 Driver! Reader

Request: can I request a Bojan (or Jure actually) from Joker Out fic where he has a boyfriend who's an F1 driver, I saw you wrote for both fandoms so I thought I'd compile them both lol. I really like your heartstopper work btw x

It almost undoubtedly started because you were a public Joker Out fan. Whether that was tweeting about them when they were on eurovision or being caught liking edits of them or posting a picture from their concert, being photographed in a Joker Out hat or hoodie people knew you liked Joker Out.

People always laughed about it and assumed that the two of you would never actually speak but...you did. Bojan direct messaged you not long after your public support for them and the two of you hit if off fairly quickly, choosing to keep your relations private for the sake of both of your careers and privacy

The two of you managed to keep it secret for a hell of a lot longer than you expected. The speculation started when you would like each others posts or comment on each others social medias

You get shipped together almost instantly with there being several fanfictions being written within hours of your first mention of each other and edits of you to Joker Out songs flooded tiktok. At first, it started as one of those joke ships with the vibe of, "haha wouldn't it be so funny if they were together, could never happen though"

Bojan then started being a little bit too obvious about it. Posting stories of him watching F1 on the tv, wearing random merch he found of whatever team you drive for, liking the F1 social media posts, suspiciously posting from the countries that you were in for races so if fans followed both of you, they got the idea pretty quickly.

You weren't much better, from still being caught in joker out merch, suspiciously being at festivals they were playing at, posting with the likes of Kaarija and Wild Youth, randomly following Slovenian travel accounts on instagram, and Joker Out being on your Spotify wrapped that year certainly didn't help things

People officially found out after a video started circulating of him at an F1 post race celebration party and everyone went mental on twitter for the next week trying to work out what the hell he was doing there (until a second angle of that video came out of the two of you drunkenly kissing in the corner of the room)

Coming out was rough for you if you hadn't already. F1 is a sport plagued by a section of fanbase of homophobic straight men that did not hold back when they found out about you and Bojan. You turned all your comment sections off (and so did Bojan for a while) while you worked out what to do about this. There were meetings about it, it made the news as these things often do, you got harassed at races and all the while an entirely new fanbase was born, the fanbase of your ship which by all accounts had now become "cannon"

You were fairly supported by the Joker Out fanbase which did serve as a slight comfort to you and so, of course, did Bojan. He with with you whenever he could be to help you through the media onslaught that you had to go through, he advised you about what to do when everything got too much, he stayed on the phone with you for hours if you two couldn't be together because of other commitments

You did quickly find out though that there is a large and mostly hidden section of the F1 fanbase that came out of the woodwork to support you. The gay side of the fanbase.

The lgbtq side of the F1 fanbase was very loud in their defence of you. Queer news publishers wrote articles about you, fans wrote to you in spades to give you praise and support and heartfelt messages and you suddenly found yourself the most popular driver among Gen Z.

You both end up being adored by the other persons fandom with an endless supply of fanfictions, fan art and social media posts. You feed those fandoms like mother birds with your own social media posts whether that's Bojan doing silly tiktok trends with you, you taking back stage pictures of joker out concerts or the two of you occasionally streaming together if that's something that you do.

Bojan comes to the races whenever he can, whenever he has a concert in that country or doesn't have any concerts or obligations at all (he did once come to a podium in full concert gear. Kiki has to remind him to take his mic off before he ran out of the building to come see you after a concert once)

He’s always ecstatic when you win, instantly pulling you into his arms, kissing all over your face, lifting you up and spinning you around or letting you lift him

He’s also equally as proud of you when you don’t do as well. Letting you talk him through all the things you think you could have done different (without being self deprecating as he very quickly shuts that down.) He comforts and consoles you if you’re especially disappointed with a race or if people are being especially harsh on you

He’ll take you off of social media, plan a date for you, cook you dinner, give you a massage, watch your favourite films, train with you, sing to you, whisper sweet nothings into your ear, anything to help you feel better when it’s particularly hard

He gets rather frustrated with the media. Seeing as he always says that he himself reads and takes in a lot of what people say about him online it would only make sense that he does that for you too. He reads articles about you, sees what people say on Twitter and on podcasts and even hears what people in the paddock or in the stands say about you (god help the audience if they ever decided to boo you like they did to Max) and it really upsets him. He often has to hold back from firing off endless responses to comments or turning and just having it out with whomever is shit talking you. You assure him that while you admire his protectiveness, you don’t need him to do any of that (but if you ever did want him to defend you, he would in a heartbeat about F1 or anything else, you’re his boy and no one messes with that)

He doesn't understand the rules at all, he just cheers and ‘whoops’ whenever he sees something that vaguely looks like your car whiz by (you've tried to explain the rules so many times but it's really not worth it)

He does try though bless him, he started researching everything he needs to to try and have conversations with you (you once found him watching a YouTube video on F1 with a notebook open.) He'll listen to you talk or rant about new cars, new FIA rules, other drivers, the press etc with big, wide eyes to make sure you know he's listening and he cares.

The two of you travel a lot with your races and his concerts so you two have a wild variety of experiences under your belts. Your camera roll is full of him eating various deserts in different countries, standing next to landmarks, jumping on stages, chilling on beaches etc. You do, however, always have to make sure you're careful where you choose to go on dates when you're travelling especially since a few of the places you race in are less than kind to LGBTQ people. The night before flights are often spent between you and Bojan showing each other articles or google searches about laws in whatever country you're travelling to or screenshots of them sent to you if he's not with you loving, 'be careful baby x' text messages

He's a connoisseur of edits of you. Every F1 driver has a signature edit song (AKA Smooth Operator) and he knows every lyric of yours no matter what language it's in (he even sings it sometimes to piss you off or if he's just been listening to it too much and it gets stuck in his head)

His camera roll is completely flooded with pictures of you. He has pictures of you in the gym, screenshots from media interviews, pictures of (what he thinks is) your car mid lap, pictures of your trophies, pictures of you in your race suit (which he thinks you look insanely hot in by the way. He blushes intensely whenever he can feel you looking at him even through the helmet, or when you take off the helmet and your hair just a little bit wet from sweating, or when you lift the visor and he can only see your eyes through the helmet or- yeah you get the idea.) For a very long time, his Lock Screen was a picture of you holding a trophy high in the air and whenever he looked at it he was reminded just how proud of you he is.

He often goes to the gym with you (sometimes to work out but mostly to watch you train.) He'll happily do whatever it takes to help you with certain exercises like holding pads for you to spar with him, throwing you tennis balls for reaction time etc (or sometimes he does whatever it takes to hinder you sometimes by sitting on your back during planks or, sitting under you during push ups for kisses or offering himself as a weight for deadlifts)

He really gets on with your paddock friends through seeing as he can speak nearly all of their languages to some extent. Obviously, he's closest with whoever you're closest with but overall I'd say he gets on best with Lando, Oscar or Daniel.

Jealousy is through the absolutely roof though and I can't even pretend it's not. The second he saw Charles he clenched his fists so hard his rings drew blood against his own palm.

"Who is THAT??"

"Oh that's Charles, he's my teammate/he drives for Ferrari,"

"is that so..."

There is absolutely no doubt that Joker Out released a song very specifically just after the two of you got together that was about jealousy and someone described to be suspiciously like Charles. (everyone knows what its about but it's an absolute banger so no one minds)

Similarly though, you end up jealous of a lot of the musicians he had inevitable chemistry with or gets shipped with so you're very much even in that respect.

He loves watching you before races, often finds himself staring at you and your concentration face (which he either finds incredibly cute or sexy depending on his mood)

He called you 'my champion' once and you cringed so hard you were nearly sick so he's taken to saying it all the time. In instagram captions, during dates, over the phone and once during sex which earned him a very swift slap (though that probably had the opposite effect than you were going for-)

He absolutely asks whether he can get a version of the Joker Out car either branded by whatever team you drive or promoted by you (though you and Jure were deeply disappointed when you were told you couldn't street race the Joker Out jeep)

He shits himself at every sign of danger for you. He didn't consider that what you did was anything more than running around a track until you got into a little scrape with another car. It was thankfully nothing serious for you but it completely changed the way he watched you work. Logically, there was probably always a part of him that knew you could be at risk but he didn't think about that until he was forced to and afterwards he thought about nothing else.

All of the research that he was doing didn't help either when he learned exactly how fast those cars go and how many accidents there've been in motorsports history. He started being, for lack of a better term, hysterical about it, kissing you hundreds of times for "luck," hugging you like you're going to war before races, constant 'be careful's and 'is that safe's, flinching 900 times during races and just generally not helping his anxiety. You ended up having to sit with him and explain all the ways and rules that mean F1 is as safe as it's ever been and that statistically you're going to be alright.

That mostly worked and he was able to watch you again without feeling like he was going to faint every five seconds. If ever you did crash though...oh boy. Several medics and security marshals may have been sworn at in Slovenian when they wouldn't let him near your car. (it's even worse if he coukdnt be there that day for whatever reason and he had to watch the crash on TV with painful replays or have Nace show him a cold, faceless breaking news story with nothing but a picture of your car on fire and a screaming headline)

He sits with you in the hospital if it's that bad and never leaves your side until he's forced to. He holds you hand and begs you never to do this to him again even though he knows it's never really your fault. He even starts whispering prayers in Slovenian (and probably a few in Serbian and English for good measure)

You beg him to sing for you to cheer you up so he ends up making up little songs about how much he loves you and how much he wants you to get better and how much he hates you for scaring him like that

If you require anything else after the crash he's always there for you whether it's just a decent meal and a few kisses or if it's something more serious like changing wound dressings or helping with physiotherapy. In return you dote on him in the eventuality he gets sick with his pitiful immune system.

You try to go to as many of his concerts as you can, supporting him from backstage so you don't get swarmed by fans in the audience. Occasionally you come on stage if Bojan asks you to or if a fan has a sign or gift specifically for you but you prefer to sit back and watch him shine as he does for you.

I imagine you get on well with the other members of the band. You and Jan discuss vintage cars, you bring Nace and Jan old F1 or racing jackets, Jure keeps trying to bribe you to let him drive your car, you play F1 simulator with them all and they all get way too competitive and they all tell you how much Bojan talks about you when you're not around.

Along with the less than favourable song about Charles, Joker Out released several songs that, for lack of a better way of putting it, show exactly how horny Bojan is for you. (and then the two of you get some banging edits made of you with those songs)

You accompany him to any award shows, premieres or events that he's invited to, cheering and taking pictures of him holding awards like a proud mother and he happily dresses up for any MET Galas or Start of season event that you find yourself invited to. (fans absolutely DEVOUR pictures of the two of you on red carpets together)

It's fairly easy for you to move to Slovenia with him though you'd likely still have a base in somewhere more convenient. The two of you move just outside of the city, somewhere beautiful in rural Slovenia where you raise your children in a home full of love and music and lots of toy cars.

Your kids are complete nepo babies but everyone's okay with that

When you both settle down and start a family Joker Out likely doesn't tour as much and you likely either retire or end up more of a mentor or team principal role for the next generation of drivers

There was inevitably, a massive argument between you and Bojan about your kids wanting to get into Karting (he did eventually relent and allow the kids to have lessons if they wanted them but you both had to be there to supervise)

If you are still a driver by then then Bojan often brings your kids to the paddock or the grand stands so they can 'wave at daddy'

You tried your best to teach the kids without letting Bojan's anxiety make them nervous too and you decided that the only way to get around that was to have him learn with them to see that it's actually not so bad.

This was, in fact, the hardest thing you had ever had to do in your career and you often joke that you deserved a trophy for it. He started off by jokingly asking whether you could put stabilisers on it in a way that felt less than joking, accidentally swearing in front of your children half way round the track and constantly slamming on the breaks but he left the whole experience ...absolutely loving it and deciding that he wanted to race YOU around the track. You can decide whether or not you let him win or completely destroy him in that endeavour.

In return he's determind to teach you to play guitar or piano or trumpet or one of the many instruments that he has under his belt. (which he also would say is the hardest thing he's ever had to do in his career)

You became an advocate within the F1 community and an inspiration to LGBTQ fans everywhere and there is absolutely no doubt that the two of you consider yourself each other's biggest fan.

AN: Thank you so much to the person that requested this! I absolutely adore my Joker Out requests so this one was so much fun! I hope it's okay!!! I may do a Jure one of these in the near future if that's something that people would want :)

REQUESTS

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