#Roman sionis x reader

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ Do You Think We'll Be In Love Forever? ㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!DC Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 ♡ ｡ ゜

​𓆩☾𓆪 Nightwing - Dick Grayson | بالشب - دیک گریسون

He's mesmerized by the sight of you between his arms. Definite little doll smiling up at him through tear-soaked eyes. He floods your essence with saccharine kisses, sweet vows, and anguished 'I love yous' all paying testimony to his sugar-laced obsession. He's desperate to taste your sweetness on his tongue, lick through your flesh like a lollipop, and unravel your bones with his teeth.

He had been so young once, chasing virtue and strength into every dark alleyway, following bats and hope into vicious nights. Back then, he hadn't understood his mentor's desperation for paper-thin kisses and phony love. But now feeling the push of your body beneath his fingertips makes him understand how satisfying real love can be. To observe you in the sun's gentle rays. To feel your body curled next to his on cold nights. He plays hero under the moon's watchful gaze only to return home to you upon daybreak.

❀࿔ Red Hood - Jason Todd | نقاب قرمز - جیسون تاد

He glides your fingers across his scars, shuddering under the weight of your touch. Stardust cauterizes ancient wounds, licking away the rotten grime. Jason clenches his teeth, there's something so intimidating about the softness of your touch. It stings worse than any crowbar or bullet wound, intruding, harrowing. It's almost like you're plucking the constellations of his past from under his skin, trying to rearrange the stars into something cathartic.

He can't help the hapless way his nails scratch across your bones, the gurgling laugh that escapes his throat. You're Elizabeth Lavenza and Ophelia trying to mend a broken boy, with your wry smile and terrified eyes. Jason traces his lips across yours, his kiss is ravenous, frantic. Faux-hero desperate for an inkling of love, of bliss, of softness.

´���` Arkham Knight - Jason Todd | سلحشور آرکام - جیسون تاد

He likes to think he's shed his human skin long ago. Left it to die in that burning warehouse with his old mask and youth. But when he hears your laughter, that haunting echo reverberates off the edifice walls. He can't help but think maybe, just maybe a trace of humanity still lingers beneath his armor. Your smile glares at him in every carmine puddle he treks through. He dreams it's your blood marring his gauntlets, syrupy sweet as he licks them clean. Daydreams about your ethereal face painted in reds and purples by his iron-clad hands.

His kisses are razor blades cutting through your lips, forcing his love down your throat, and watching as you choke on the rust and ache. He's trying to merge two bodies into one void, to engulf you. Mirror his scars upon your flesh with dull knives and jagged fingernails. He kisses you again, you swear you're going to drown in his sea of red. Maybe that's all the love he has left. He

｡♦｡ Red Robin - Tim Drake | رابین قرمز- تیم دریک

He plays hero in the night, little bird chasing villains and evil by moonlight. When he blinks it's you he sees lying on the couch watching TV. He's starting to think you're his favorite show, afterall your window is about the size of a flat-screen TV and he's always too eager to peak through for the next screening. Episode 84, you're hugging your favorite teddy bear, lost in euphoria as your knuckles turn white around the controller. Tim watches heart in his throat as you claw out the boss's eyes. Sanctimonious champion vying to save the holy princess.

Tim bites his fingers, addresses each tooth mark to you. He pens his love letters upon his own skin, sealing them in red when he finally punctures through. Maybe life is just a video game, an endless kaleidoscope of cutscenes. And he's just a besotted hero dying to kiss the precious princess who doesn't even know he exists.

ꨄ︎ Robin - Damian Wayne| سینه‌سرخ - دامیان وین

His heritage pounds between his bones. The deja vu of an ancestral lifetime runs rapid through his veins as he chases you across the rooftops. His father, his mother, his brothers, always chasing, running after things they know they'll never reach. Your blades clash against his and Damian can't help but wonder if this is the closest he'll ever get to kissing you.

You leave him with paper cuts that feel like venom, like saying 'I love you' while chewing on his bones. He ponders, does his father have the same scars, if Damian pulled away Bruce's skin what would he find? Kittycat claws and dragon bites engraved in the nth-wielded ivory. He feels legacy clawing at his throat as he pictures your fingers between his teeth. Tears blooming in your eyes as he uses diamonds and ceremonial knives to engrave his name upon your flesh. Dotting the I with a heart and entwining each letter. God, he's so tired of being lonely...

🦇 Batman - Bruce Wayne | بتمن - بروس وین

He can't help but pick you apart, chip away at the bones and flesh until he reaches your essence. Dissecting your heart with his tongue and savoring the ichor between his teeth. He's the world's greatest detective and yet he can't unravel his own ardor. This mania, this addiction festering within his crux gnawing at his sanity until every thought is consumed by the cadence of your voice and the stars scintillating in your big doe eyes. This desperate need burning inside of him are you really divinity? Will you bleed glod, if he tears you apart with his teeth?

You're so ethereal squirming beneath, kicking and screaming vying desperately for freedom. He's fought this love for far too long, tried to preserve you in the light. Cover your eyes and ears and make you forget about the monsters that roam in the dark. But he can't not anymore, maybe he never could. Maybe the only way he knows how to love is by trickling his darkness like nectar between your lips and watching as it paints you in his shades.

ᯓ★ Superman - Clark Kent | سوپرمن - کلارک کنت

His kisses melt into your skin sweet like molten sugar drizzled on jasmine rice. Like lava smothering roses, leaving a trail of fragranced ashes. Clark smiles and he notices how you cover your eyes. Like you're staring directly into the sun. Like you're scared of being burnt. Clark can't help but bury his head in the crock of your neck, inhaling your ather. Molten roses and floral ashes he likes the amalgamate of your scents. Like how his presence lingers upon you.

He holds you like a doll, like the little straw dolls his mother used to make. It's easy to be gentle, coddling when everything is so fragile compared to you. He kisses down your neck, your jaw, nuzzling his nose into your soft skin, trying to earn a giggle a gold star. Trying to wipe the fear from your eyes. He kisses you again, mumbling cloying words between your lips, wishing he could just push his love between your fragile bones.

˚✶˚ Superboy - Conner Kent | سوپربوی - کانر کنت

He's fighting back the urge to peel your heart from between your ribs. To trail kisses across it and marr his lips with your ether. He wonders if your heart beats as frantically as his. He wonders if your ribs rattle when he enters a room.

He wants to push little superboy earings into your ears, to lay upon you the piercings he could never have. It'll be his way of telling the world you belong to him, that you belong to Superboy. And yet he settles for draping his leather jacket across your shoulders when senses a shiver run up your spine. He settles for the friendly hugs and airy hello-kisses. He wants to say he's he loves you. he can't. It's all so annoying, tasting the dead words on his tongue.

𓂃✮ Superman - Jon Kent | سوپرمن - جان کنت

He's scaping his nails along the Hershey's kisses re-aligning the red blue and gold wrapping. It'll be obvious, right? If he leaves them in your locker you'll understand the colored metaphor you'll answer the question he can never ask. You'll know it's him, everyone always does, for the byproduct of the world's greatest hero, he's terrible at keeping his identity a secret.

He blames it on the legacy flooding his lungs. On the promises that beat in his blood. He's born to be a hero, to play the role of savior, but aren't heroes promised love too? Aren't they meant to save the girl from burning skyscrapers and crumbling sidewalks, to fly above the skyline and kiss her in tune with the setting sun? He's so desperate for the sweet fairytale ending, so desperate to kiss the girl who always knows just what to say. He leaves the chocolate in your locker before making a dent in the metal door.

˚｡⋆🪙⋆ ˚｡ Two Face - Harvey Dent | دو چهره - هاروی دنت

He can taste your pain on his tongue, swallow the barbed wire, and relish in the familiar sting of hope, expectation, responsibility. Maybe that's why he can't stop himself from chasing after you. Burning the world demanding you stop him, desperate for a silver of your deficit attention. God, you're so ethereal with his gun aimed at your head, his pretty little girl with big starry eyes laced with dread as they follow the cascade of his coin. 'I know' he wants to scream 'I know what it feels like' but the words never quite spill out that way. And Harv only laughs at his foolish attempts to play hero once more. Sanctimonious bastard, the words reverberate in his skull.

You may claim to be a hero but Two-face knows you'll fall, plunder to the ground like all the rest, that's what happens when you reach for the sky, deem yourself Icarus, and let the flames of glory engulf you until there's nothing left. 'You can't save them' Harv screams only for Harvey to hear. They want to get closer, to slip the coin between your lips and make you taste defeat, maybe then you'll understand why he's so keen on fighting you out of your crusade. Maybe then you'll take their hand willingly, letting them sprinkle kisses across your knuckles like dying stars.

˙⋆☠︎︎⋆˙ Black Mask - Roman Sionis | نقاب سیاه - رومن سیونیس

He wants to cut out your big heart and sink his teeth into it, engrave himself in every vein, and chew on the heartstrings. HIM he needs to be the only one in that plushie heart of yours. The only one with the right to be graced by your ethereal smile. He wants to awaken to your soft nimble fingers tracing hearts and stars across his chest. Pretty pink lips weaving feathery kisses across the scar of his pacemaker. Giggles tickling his neck as you bid him 'good morning' in that all too cheery voice of yours.

Roman almost moans as he hears his name spill from your mouth, each letter cradled carefully between your lips he can't help but want to push his thumb inside your mouth, to feel your purity and shock. There's so much he wants to call you so much he wants to whisper in your ear as he watches your cheeks glow red. To hold you in his lap and trail his fingers across your legs, to dress you in pretty dresses and short skirts and skin-tight tops. To taste the fear and dread on your tongue palpable like the blood he draws with every kiss.

༄✩༄ Scarecrow - Jonathan Crane | مترسک - جاناتان کرین

He likes the stars in your eyes, the mini constellations spelling out your greatest fears. The tears blooming in the corners of your dopey eyes have his lips twitching. You're so gorgeous like this, curled up on the floor trying to make sense of such an eerie world. Jonathan doesn't anoint himself a fool, he knows it's chimeric to think that you'd love him without the toxin, without the heavy drugs he's spilled into your veins. That's why he keeps you like this, scared and depressed. Always in need of him.

What's your greatest fear? He wonders when you tuck your head between your knees and sob all so quietly as to not disturb him. Is it him you see in your grandest nightmares? Is it the mask jumping at you from within the darkness, or is it Professor Crane abandoning you in such a macabre world? Mask on mask off it makes no difference. He just hopes he's the star of every nightmare, as long as you fear him as much as he fears losing you.

｡??｡ Riddler- Edward Nygma| ریدل - ادوارد نیگما

It's frivolous to think he will not solve this riddle. That he will no unearth this plague you have bestowed upon him. This fixation, this obsession, he needs to understand you, to peel away your skin and glimpse at your inner clock workings. To undo your screws one by one and find out what exists between that haunting laugh and those knowing vicious eyes. To rip apart your wires, and feed upon your mind. To understand, he needs to understand you.

He got close once when he had your neck under his shoe, but the evil lith of your laughter rings across the room and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't unnerved. He doesn't know what question to ask first. 'what have you done to me'? 'why do you think you're better than me?', 'Why don't you love me?' Instead, the silence shatters with your voice, proud melody rivaling his own, your eyes lock on him and he can't suppress his shutter. "Well Eddie, riddle me this. What can kill any man, but isn't even alive itself?"

⁺♡⁺ Deathstroke - Slade Wilson | مرگ سکته - اسلید ویلسون

You're like a shooting star, dancing across the night as you stalk his latest kill. Little asssasin, you know your stuff but he finds your thirst for ineage and morality both exhausting and honorable. Most people grow up and spit out their morals with blood and broken teeth. Let the world's cruel realities claw and gnaw at their skin until it's hardened enough to survive. He's yet to see you extend such a courtesy to the world, makes him think that pulling the trigger on you would be some sort of mercy. Bullet through the heart leaving your body coated in his essence and one final kiss pressed onto your paling lips.

He dosen't notice the inkling of you rattling around in his brain until he realizes that this is the eighth him he's seen you smile at the end of his barrel. Pretty little girl chasing after morals and sand, hoping to escape the endless night by spilling just a little more guilty blood. You look like some sort of ethereal doll, immortal in your innocence and vicious in your virtues. He can respect that, truly but Slade isn't naive enough to think you have what it takes to survive. Maybe that's why he wants all so badly to feed you his victim's hearts and eyes and livers, to push them past your pretty lips, staining them the deepest red. Watching your delicate throat constrict as you swallow everything he gives you. Reveling in the sensation of your greedy little tongue swirling around his fingers licking up the access gore. Can almost picture your smile and stupid little head tilt as you thank him for the 'candygrams'.

⭑.ᐟ Respawn | احیا

Respawn drowns in his love. Pulling apart his heart to lay at your feet. It's all he's ever known, broken boy built to harvest spare parts. But you don't look at him like that, you don't even look at him like an assassin. No, you smile fondly as you nuzzle his neck with your nose. You look at him the way his father used to, like he's actually worth something more. He's never quite kissed you, he's not even sure he knows how. Instead, he holds you close to his chest making sure you hear the dull patter of his jagged heart.

He's born from greatness, left to rot in the dark. He refuses to play pawn, anymore. So maybe that's why, when he finally kisses you -with all the grace of a schoolboy's first kiss- it's so desperate and erratic, clumsily licking your lips and nicking his tongue along your teeth trying to think what his father would do. His fingers dig into your arms, preassing prayers into your flesh, screaming 'Don't leave me, you're all I have left'.

⭑☽ Ghost-Maker - Minhkhoa "Khoa" Khan | روح ساز - مینه خوا "خوا" خان

There's nostalgia in your essence, in your presence, something he can never wash away. He's grown addicted to the erratic reverbate of your pulse between his teeth. Kissing the bites he leaves marring your perfect body.

Why can't you just love him, let him haunt your every thought, and erode those pesky creeds, until he is the only thing you'll ever need? Khoa hates to admit it but he sees something in you, something so reflective of the little boy laying in the sand of the gobi desert, shooting phantom bullets and mocking stars. You scream every time he kisses you, recoil your tongue, and cry at the bitterness sweeping in. But Khao loves the challenge, the fight, loves forcing you into submission, even as your knife digs between his ribs. He's only ever content when your pith floods his mouth and your melodic voice rings through his ears. His precious little princess tucked away between his arms forever.

☾⋆ Phantom-one | روح یک

he never shows you his face. He blames it on his upbringing too used to old rules that he can never escape their clutches not even for you. His kisses are always clouds dancing across your skin, so light and airy they may as well be the wind. But tries to leave traces of himself with every kiss. Desperate pleas for you to look at him, to touch him, to love him back. All so he knows he's alive, still real enough to love.

He's always trapped between the land of the living and the realm of the deceased. Always so gentle with the love he's stolen, so careful to not break his lover, as his mentor did to him. He laces his fingers through your hair, sucks gently on the length of your neck, all while pushing 'I love yous' into your soul, marking you as his forever.

🎀𖹭🎀 : @your-yandere-kiss @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @nxdxsworld @lilyalone @neverano @natsukicookies @googeecat44 @starrydollita @mune-writes @a4g3lstarfire @yourhornysister @froggy-voidd @rissareader @6helpneeded9

@blacklunardice @princesstrunkz @mona1704 @testification

[nxtaliaistyping]

Batrogues | p links part two

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

NSFW 18+. some new faces, some returning ones, part one here.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Riddler:

If you beg for his attention while he’s working in his workshop, then he’ll leave you like this.

Secretly has a soft spot for bigger girls <3

He’s a classy guy, he loves lingerie

How he eats it after you stroke his ego

He likes you dripping and desperate for him

Honestly this is how I need him to fuck me

The Scarecrow:

What, you thought just because he used to be a professor, he’d be turned on by you dressing so crude? He’ll show you what he thinks

Edward is the closest thing he has to a friend, it would be rude for him not to share you with the riddler.

As a thank you for letting him have you, Edward gave you a present. Now you use it and send videos to Jonathan when he’s working <3

You help him get to sleep

Likes making you ride him

This but he’s wearing the scarecrow mask

Catwoman:

She gets a sick sense of pleasure when she seduces a woman whose in a relationship with a man

Takes you to expensive hotels just the fuck you in them

You told her and Harley that you wanted to be part of the Gotham City Sirens, but they said there was an entrance exam

Yeah, it doesn’t matter where you both are, she’ll just knock out anyone who stumbles upon you both

Breaks in to your house with her strap on under her suit so she can fuck you

Thank her for all the expensive gifts by getting on your knees

The Mad Hatter:

Once he found the toy under your bed, he knew he had to have you use it

Loves seeing you in such cute underwear

He also loves when you act all innocent, so he can feel like he’s corrupting you

How he treats his sweet Alice when you do what he says

And it helps when his Alice loves it as much as him

Though he likes when you take matters into your own hands

Deathstroke:

He owns plenty of handcuffs

If you try and ride him, this is how you’ll end up

Oh you’re wearing fishnets? Good luck

Where else should he cum, if not deep inside?

Yeah, he’s rough

But if it’s been a long day, he can be intimate too

Black Mask:

Makes you send videos like this all the time, the more embarrassing the dildo the better

What’s that? You don’t wanna do anal? Well then obviously you don’t want to be his best girl, do you?

You still have to look pretty, even when being punished

After coming back from a meeting

Unlike Scarecrow, he definitely isn’t shy about being into the whole schoolgirl outfit

As in incentive to his men, the lucky guy who earns him the most money that month gets front row seats to see this

Harley Quinn:

Harls doesn’t like to wait till you’re back from the club

She’s a threesome kinda girl

She loves your tits

Fuck her with the strap, so she can fuck you with the same one tomorrow <3

When you put her panties in her mouth, she came so quick

What happens when she invites you for a sleepover

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨

[gilverrwrites]

Have we discussed Roman’s separated wife hooking up with Bruce Wayne? You and Bruce have always been cordial, so when Roman doxxes you, Bruce lets you stay at the Manor and cry on his shoulder until the wine bottle is empty. He’s so nice and his hand is so warm on your cheek and oh Lord, it’s bigger than your face and you can’t remember the last time you felt safe while a man was touching you. You try to make a move, but Bruce knows he’s overindulged you (partially to get info about Roman but he’ll feel guilty about it later), so he stops you…but promises he’ll be more than ready and willing when you’re in your right mind and decide you still want this. You wait anxiously the entirety of the next day, until Bruce shows up at your door in the sluttiest t-shirt and sweatpants you’ve ever seen, his ginormous hand finding its place on your face again while the other one is slipping under the hem of your shirt.

Slutty top? You've hit a nerve anon, cause now all I'm thinking about is Brucie in a slutty little crop top, like sir put that washboard away before I bite it! Honestly, feral for anyone of any shape and size in a crop top, just show me your belly, please. Yeah, that would work on me.

But to answer your question, no we have not discussed this but we certainly can!!!!

Like, I can say earnestly, when he invited you to stay with him, sleeping with you did not cross his mind; he was purely thinking about;

Helping you get out of a bad situation

Good for the Brucie Wayne image (so long as the press don't get wind of it until you've found somewhere permanent to move too)

(as mentioned) Chance to get info on Black Mask

But the moment you flash that perfectly poised smile, even though you’re clearly on the brink of tears, he's thinking ‘Uh oh. I'm in trouble.’

He never thought much of you while you were with Roman, if maybe a little bit sorry for you. The extent of your relationship was occasional networking with Bruce at events, and Batman peeking through your windows at night to check on you when Roman was at his worst or imprisoned.

It helps that he thought you were pretty.

But now, as he's getting to know you on a personal level, seeing that you're stronger than he'd thought, and smarter. You're letting down walls and actually relaxing, and in his domain at that! It stirs something within him.

And for you, like Roman and Bruce are the same age, from similar backgrounds, similar personas for the public (charming and rich) but it's crazy to see how different they really are.

When you talk, Bruce isn't just waiting for his turn to speak, he listens.

There's no coercion when you set a boundary, he just respects it. Which funnily enough makes you more willing to share. He's just so easy to trust.

When you ask about interesting pieces around his house, he doesn't brag about where it's from and what it costs. Instead, he tells you stories about his parents or his kids interacting with it.

He's funny, and respectful, not at all what you'd expected.

And did you mention handsome? Oh, he's very handsome. That dark hair and those blue eyes. The chiselled jaw and the dimples and he smells good too, you find that out after you bury your nose into his chest while he's carrying you to bed that first night. You're tipsy, and his house is a maze, he's just trying to help and not at all showing off his strength.

The same way he's just dressed so casually the following day when he comes to find you, this is what he always lounges around. He's totally not subtly flexing his glamour muscles as you open the door.

Now, Roman is by no means bad in bed. He's just, shall we say, selfish? He has a set way in life and sex that he expects you to live up to.

Bruce though? He's a giver. He can take, when appropriate, but right now, he knows what you need.

You need those big hands on your waist as he chases you into the bed with his mouth. You need them soothing your tired body, massaging all the stress out of your aching body. You need his thumb to rub circles into your inner thighs while he kisses, and sucks, and laps at your hot, wet sex. You need his long hard fingers pumping into that sweet little hole, again and again until you cum all over them.

And that is just the start.

But you know one other really important thing you need? Some goddamn aftercare.

He knows it straight away, shouldn’t have been surprised. But when your body immediately falls limp after he rolls off of you, when you look at him confused as he asks if you need anything he knows your life has been lacking kindness for so long that you barely even recognise when it's extended to you.

He's not good at the emotional stuff, at comforting words but he reasons that you probably don't need to hear it right now. Don't need to be reminded of your mistakes, of your past.

Instead, he pulls you into him, wrapping his warmth around you like a giant weighted blanket. Holding you until you accept his affection and melt into his arms.

Meanwhile, the False Facers can't breach Bruces security, can't get a good look into the Manor. Which means they don't know what you're doing there. But they know you're there, and that means Roman knows you're there.

And Romans not stupid, you sneaky, no good, selfish whore.

He gave you everything, and this is how you repay him? You nasty little bitch. And with Bruce Wayne of all people?

Don't get comfy, because the moment you step outside those gates, the second you let your walls down, he's going to rock your shit. You're going to pay for all the crap you've put him through, tenfold.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[acapelladitty]

i am BEGGING for black mask x reader + choking kink. i wanna read about getting strangled by that unstable man.

Begging will get you far on this blog 😉😈

Breathless

Summary: Black Mask decides to spend some time with his number one gal.

(tw for: strangulation, rough sex, anal, dom/sub, mild sadism, free use dynamics, degradation/humiliation)

Fic Masterlist /// Link To AO3

Being Roman's number one gal had its perks and having your legs spread across his knees as you bounced your ass on his lap ranked up there with the best of them.

As soon as you entered his office and felt his eyes trawling across the low cut of your dress paired with his hand as it quickly dropped to cup as his clothed cock, you knew what he wanted.

His hands had been everywhere as you stood before him. Delving within the dress to cup roughly at your tits as he pulled them out and allowed them to hang freely. Diving up the short hemline to stroke his manicured fingers along the soft cotton on your panties as he growled and ripped them free of your skin, the elastic burning your hips where it was torn off.

What'd I tell you about these, princess? A real waste of time.

Sorry, sir.

Maybe you need a reminder of who makes the rules around here.

His fingers had fumbled with the top drawer of his desk, pulling free a small bottle of lube which made your heart stutter for a moment as arousal flooded your gut.

You knew what that meant.

Patting his thigh invitingly, he had wasted no time in freeing his cock from his slacks and stroking himself hard - grunting as you slipped atop his lap and perched carefully on his knees. Your tits in his face, his blunt teeth sunk themselves into the sensitive flesh as his fingers spread a thin coat of lube across his cock before applying the same to the rim of your ass; his regular use of all your holes making the skin there slightly puffy and ready to accept his cock whenever and wherever.

Without any foreplay or preparation, he had entered your ass, sinking himself deeply into your warm hole as you cried out in pain - the searing discomfort never any easier as he forced you to stretch and ache around him while he enjoyed the tight fit.

"Hurts, Sir." You gasp out, trying to relax and reduce the burn which made your eyes water.

"Good." Roman growls in response as his attention falls to his dark tie, fingers quickly unknotting the material as he pulls it free of his shirt. "For you anyway. It means that I still have a use for you. When these worthless holes are too loose to be any good to fuck then I'll need to find some other way to amuse myself with you."

Shuddering as he wraps his tie around your neck, you tilt your head back to allow him easier access - a move which earns you a rumble of approval as you bounce lightly on his cock. He's not gentle with the material, rapidly pulling it taut against your throat as he loops the end within his fist, almost like a leash.

"Fuck yourself on my cock and maybe I'll let your breathe once I've come."

Already feeling the pressure, you settle your hands on the arms of his chair as you pick up the pace of your movements - rapidly drawing yourself up so only the bulbous head of his cock is trapped within your ass before dropping down again to feel the burning stretch as it sparks a deep, discomforting ache in your hole. Knowing that his grip would only tighten, your movements are sloppy as you attempt to please him.

You struggle to pull in a full breath, each inhale and exhaled shaky as they fight to get past the material which is constricting your throat. A pounding sensation in your head makes the sensations all the stronger and you scream out a choked noise of anguish as rough, unseen fingers drop to pinch at your neglected clit.

"Is that what you need, baby? You want me to hurt you like this so you can come?"

And he's right. Between the ache in your ass and the sharp, almost lightning like sensation of his fingers pulling and pinching at your most sensitive nub, you can feel the arousal dripping freely from your cunt as it makes a mess of his slacks. But no matter how aroused you are or how tightly your toes curl against your own feet, it's not enough to make you come as fear prevents you from reaching that peak - knowing what the consequences are for coming without his say so.

A warm mouth adds to your hell, his lips latching around the tits which are bouncing in his face as you ride him. His mask is ice cold against your skin and you shiver as he pulls you closer with a vicious tug on the tie. A shiver which dissolves into a muted cry as his teeth clamp around your right nipple as pull at it roughly - not enough to draw blood but enough to make your body want to curl away from it.

"Si-sir, please." You choke out, the words barely legible as you begin to feel slightly light headed.

"What's wrong? Gonna come for me, whore? Do it then. Show me how much you like it when I hurt you."

Whimpering out something pathetic, your cunt clamps around his cock like a vice as his words give you the permission that you've been waiting for. The reaming pain of his cock in your ass pairing with both his cruel fingers pinching your clit and the lack of oxygen making every nerve in your body feel heightened proves too much and you come hard; your bound fingers scrambling and tearing at each other as you unleash a muted scream and drip your mess to his velvet slacks.

He's merciless as you come, chasing his own pleasure as he slams his cock into your ass without care. So lost in your own violent orgasm, you barely feel the heat of his release as he growls and floods your stinging ass with his cum.

Vision darkening, you almost sob with relief as he loosens the tie with two fingers - allowing you to inhale desperate gulps of oxygen as you fight a sudden wave of nausea. A mess in every since of the word, you almost miss Roman's next comments as he glances down at the state of his slacks and growls.

"You filthy cunt! Look what you've done to my clothes." His hand snakes up to lock around your neck, the resuming pressure making you whimper as he pulls your face close to his own - his blazing eyes shining from his onyx face. "I'll give you one minute to think of a way to make it up to me or I'll whip you so badly I'll have to buy in Elliott to fix you up again."

[tarrenterror25]

It's soft bitch hours.

Thinking about Harvey with an s/o who gently kisses the burned side of his face.

Thinking about Roman with an s/o who peppers his mask with kisses.

Thinking about scary crime bosses Two-Face and Black Mask with partners who go out of their way to show that they're not scared of them and accept all of them.

Anon, for Harvey I literally think about this exact scenario about twice a day.

Please, an S/O for him who kisses his burned side, holds his burned hand, snuggles up to his scarred side, their bare skin on his. He needs to know he's still capable of being loved 🥺 soft bitch hours indeed!!😭

Kissing Roman's mask will have his knees buckling! A soft sigh escaping him and hearing it from behind his mask as he closes his eyes and leans into you and just holds you.

Need to shower the big bads with love and affection 💕

[finniestoncrane]

Arkham!Black Mask with a female S/O who's his fling/sugar baby ... not giving him any attention to taunt him at a party or just being a brat! To which he later spanks them on his lap ... perhaps fingering, edging, and orgasm control + denial may pursue—toss in the Daddy kink too < 3

Thank you 🫶🖤

Arkham!Black Mask x Fem!Reader, word count: 850 aheeeeeeem i can't imagine anyone being brave enough to give this man some attitude but it would be so fun to rile him up to the point that he just has to punish you 💀 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: spanking, fingering, ruined orgasm/orgasm denial

Sauntering into Roman's bedroom, you could make out his form on the edge of the bed. He'd waited for you, growing all the more impatient with every minute you had him sitting there. His fingers tensed, scratching at the fabric of his white, neat pants, as you tossed your hair so flippantly. The scent of your perfume floated over to him, and for a brief moment, just a millisecond, he was placated. But that reminder of how sweet you smelled only server to anger him more, knowing you were withholding from him and had been all evening.

"Would you hurry the fuck up."

Turning to him, no expression on your face, you responded to his harsh demand.

"Oh. Were you waiting on me, Roman?"

Though his skull was fitted with a permanent scowl, you could feel his own forming underneath it, the atmosphere of the room changing as he decided he'd had enough of your insolence for one evening. He'd put up with your ignoring him, tolerated your bratty attitude when he'd demanded you sit beside him and look pretty, but the nonchalant way you responded to him had pushed him to the edge.

As you made your way past him he grabbed at your wrist, leather gloved hands gripping you firmly as his fingers tensed around, pushing tendons and bones as he held you there. You didn't fight it, you accepted it. But you allowed yourself to keep a neutral, almost blank expression in the face of his attempt at regaining control of you.

"You can try and keep that face on all you want, you little bitch. But I'm not gonna make it easy for you."

Another quick tug, your shoulder almost yanked from the socket, as he jerked your body down, pushing your back and adjusting you roughly until you were bent over his lap facing the ground.

The palm of his glove skimmed up over your thigh, not stopping at the hem of your skirt but rather pushing it up, exposing your underwear to him. As his fingers reached your lower back, he hooked them into the band of your panties, pulling them down aggressively, tearing at them as they dug into your thighs on their way down your legs. His hand was smoothing over your bare ass cheeks in soft, careful circles as he lined up his shot. And then he lifted his hand, bringing it back down with a sharp strike, an immediate, red welt forming on your skin.

You took the punishment gleefully, as always, relishing in the way you could feel his cock stirring in his pants, stiffening against your stomach as he delighted in seeing your skin respond to the pain he inflicted.

He let his palm slide over your rear, following the curve of your cheek before settling flat between your legs against your cunt. A finger teased your swollen lips, moving from side to side to separate them, letting your slick spread over them as he collected it on the gloved digit. You shifted your body, trying to force the finger inside of you, desperate to feel him, not wanting to wait anymore, but you were quickly punished with a swift slap to your cheeks, and Roman's deep groan before he began tutting.

"Uh-uh. I don't think so, toots. You think you can get what you want that easily?"

You shook your head, fighting the urge to nod and piss him off further, knowing that riling him up would make for wilder sex, but would mean you had to wait longer for it.

"You gonna use your words?"

"No."

"No?"

Biting your lip to stifle the moan, you settled your breathing before giving him the answer he wanted.

"No, daddy."

"Good girl. Why can't you behave like that all the time, huh?"

It was out before you could stop yourself. A quick retort that made his cheeks warm, flushed with arousal and a little bit of rage at your insolence.

"Because you don't like it when I behave. You like it when I'm bad, Romy."

Two of his fingers pressed into you, rough and fast, surprising you with how easily he could slide himself inside of you. He tapped against your walls, watching you squirm around him, clenching and giggling as he orchestrated your building arousal. It was effortless, there wasn't much Roman couldn't do, and bringing you to orgasm with just the touch of his fingers was certainly something he could achieve. And he was close to doing so. As he growled, fingers pumping within your wet, warm cunt, you could feel your stomach muscles tightening, eyes closing as you felt your vision blur.

And then it was over. Everything grinding to a screeching halt, your moans devolving into a deep groan of confusion and irritation as you felt your climax being pulled away with the tips of his fingers as they exited your body, dripping in your slick.

With a pout, you turned to him, trying to catch his eye. You could hear his laugh in his throat, deep and cruel.

"And you like it when I'm bad, yeah?"

[moonlit-imagines]

You’ve Got the Wrong Guy!

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x adoptive!reader

warnings: blood/gore. u know. BOP movie icky stuff

a/n: silly little gif

prompt: @jokekinsjoke505: “Hey I need a new adoptive father's Roman and victor because I think this will be a good idea where either they kidnapped the wrong kid and it ended up with Roman and victor adopted the reader or that one day that the reader walks in while victor is peeling off a face and Roman are eating popcorn watching it happened but they just says ' I'm to tired for this shit' before walking out again and then acted like it never happened.”

“Who does this child belong to?” Asked Roman to his mercenary and dear friend, Victor. In front of him was Victor holding you, a small child, calm in demeanor despite being taken from the comfort of your own home and family.

“Maroni.” Victor replied without a single doubt. “That’s who you told me to grab and I grabbed the kid. Just like you asked. One cool kid if you ask me.” Victor continued, noticing Roman getting visibly upset. “I don’t get it, what’s the problem?”

“That!” Roman shouted, startling you enough to start struggling from Victor’s grasp. He gently set you down as Roman tore him a new one. “That’s the problem, you don’t even see your failure!” You stood behind the bleach-blonde man, trying to understand what was happening, you were just waiting for the ice cream you were promised, you were so hungry. “That’s not Maroni’s kid. I don’t even know who that is? Did you take some random child off the street?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I could’ve sworn this is the kid.” Zsasz answered.

“I’m hungry.” You quietly mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you something in just a second.” Zsasz assured you, patting your head gently as Roman kneeled down to your height. You flinched and backed up a step, remembering his blind anger from just moments before. “It’s alright, he’s a good guy.”

“Who are you, dear?” Roman asked you in such a kind manner that you completely forgot how scary he was.

“Y/N.” You simply stated.

“Where are your parents, y/n?” Roman questioned further.

“I don’t know…” You sighed. “I didn’t see them for a few days.” Roman looked up to Victor with worry in his eyes, and was surprised to see a smile on his face.

“Can we keep them?” Victor giggled a bit, even more when you grabbed his leg. “Please?”

“Y/N, would you want to stay with us instead of your parents?” Roman had asked you a very heavy question for a young child, but you had no idea what he would really be asking of you. Of course, you didn’t come from a happy life and this already seemed better. You just wanted a sense of belonging.

“Can I get ice cream?” You innocently requested of them.

“Of course, dear! What kind?”

“Uhhh…chocolate!”

“Victor, go get y/n some chocolate ice cream!” He commanded and Victor ran to fulfill your wish. “So, you’ll stay here?” He asked you once more.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed and hugged him around the neck. He felt his heart melt at your embrace and hugged you back, lifting you up to take you with him to the kitchen. “So, who are you?” You asked him.

“I’m Roman. And my partner over there is Victor.” He smiled to himself. In a matter of moments, he’d created a family. One he’d kill for.

Once you were given your bowl of ice cream, you were sold on this new life. Truth be told, you didn’t have the greatest parents. They were absent and neglectful, which was the exact reason Victor found you all alone. It was still unknown why he mistook you for the child of a notorious mobster. Roman had his suspicions that Victor had planned this, but he laid them aside knowing this was good for them. For you all.

The two of them scrambled to make you a room, promising to buy you anything you would ever want when tomorrow rolled around. You were thrilled to be taken in by these two strange men, forgiving both of them in your young, impressionable mind. Roman, for his anger, and Victor, for kidnapping and misleading you.

“Victor.” Roman lowly said after you were tucked in. “I do apologize for raising my voice at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Victor looked down at the table, then felt a hand wrap around his.

“No, I shouldn’t have done it. Especially when you’ve improved our lives so much.” Roman sat beside him. “I don’t even care about that Maroni kid anymore. This is what I care about now. You and y/n.”

“You mean that?” Victor smiled and relaxed his tense body, worried that his mistake would be unforgivable. But Roman always forgave Victor, that was what made them so special. Now they had a new challenge to tackle together: fatherhood.

—————

Years after you’d been adopted by the pair of criminals with high status in the underworld, you’d grown quite accustomed to their behavior. It wasn’t unusual to find Roman frantic or angry, or a bit violent at times. But never toward you, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or raise his voice to you. You could do no wrong.

You could also find Victor coming home from a late night, covered in blood—be it his own from a mark or someone else’s from a job—and being very nonchalant about it. It was always, “y/n! I’m glad you’re up! Would you like some ice cream?” They never left the freezer understocked, even if ice cream wasn’t your favorite anymore.

But there was one “normal” you’d never really get used to, even if you were used to their brutality. Roman was a well-respected crime boss, and to keep that respect intact, he had to do some rather gruesome things.

Well, he didn’t have to. It was a personal choice for him, you could almost consider it a hobby at this point.

You’d been looking for your fathers for going on an hour now, needing some permission slip signed for school. You wandered all their possible routes hoping to catch them across one, asking around to any lackey you managed to catch. No one had an answer for you, so you continued on until you stumbled onto a horrible scene.

One father held a segment of his victim’s hanging skin from their face as they shrieked at the top of their lungs. The sound pierced your eardrums and you winced momentarily. Then you saw the other leaned back in his seat with a bag of popcorn in hand, yelling words of encouragement to Roman, as if he needed them.

“You guys are really something.” Your voice startled them both, so much that you nearly had a gun pulled on you.

“Y/N! You scared us, I’m sorry!” Victor jumped up and ran to give you a comforting hug. “I wouldn’t have shot you, I promise.” You patted him on the back.

“I believe you, Dad.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “Can you just sign this thing real quick? Make sure there isn’t any blood on your hands.” Victor pulled away and wiped his hands on his shirt.

“Of course, of course. Roman, are you almost done with that? We should take our dear y/n out for a nice dinner soon, they deserve it.” Victor explained as he grabbed the pen and paper from your hands.

“Sure, that sounds nice. I should be done in a few minutes. Don’t rush me.” Roman continued dragging the knife under his chained victim’s skin and you shook your head at the sight. By now, this didn’t even faze you, it was just another day in your life. Well, maybe the first few times you had nightmares, but you weren’t a little kid anymore. Now, you could care less what your fathers did for work. So long as they gave you the world and their love, life was good.

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @randomfandomimagine // @summersimmerus // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @amirahiddleston // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //

[chloe-skywalker]

Bad This Time - Roman Sionis

Roman Sionis x Fem!Reader (Joker & Harley Daughter)

Warnings: none

Word count: 201

Summary: Being the daughter of Joker & Harley and dating Roman Sionis. But when her mother had been disturbing his business.

Authors Note: First Roman Sionis imagine.

Masterlist

DC Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Sweet;s.” Roman greeted Y/n with a kiss on the cheek and a wide smile.

“Roman.” Y/n greeted back.

“Your mother is here. Again.” He told her as they turned and headed towards the bar.

“I noticed.” Y/n glanced over to where she saw her mother dancing on a table.

Roman tilted his head letting out a breath. “Sweet’s I don’t think I need to say it, but-”

Y/n nodded looking down at her signature drink the bar keep placed in front of her. “I know. She’s been more out of control lately.”

Roman noticed Y/n’s glum expression and he didn’t like it. It didn’t sit well in his chest. “Mind sharing?”

Y/n let out a stressed sigh. “Her and dad broke up. Again. But it’s bad this time.”

“How bad this time?” Roman asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and started to rub circles into her hip.

“She burned down Ace Chemicals. That was their place.” Y/n told him looking up into his eyes. They both knew how bad that was without further words needed.

“Don’t worry, Sweet’s.” Roman squeezed her closer, his way of saying that he’ll help her through this.

Taglist: @padawancat97

[keffirinne]

I wanted to request a fic where someone takes the reader to get to Roman and he gets all overprotective

Could be as part of your oneshot series or it's own thing <3

It took me some time to reply, but here it is! I took a longer, vacation break from writing, but feels good to be back!

Thanks for being patient and for your request in the first place <3

Actually, this request reminds me of 13th chapter of Shadows and Deceptions, story by @thegreatwicked (check it out if you don't know it already, that's a good, long Roman fic!) and I really tried not to get any ideas from it. So I played a bit with it to do something a bit different, hope it will be to your liking!

Warning: swearing, descriptions of violence, Roman being an asshole for most of the time

Overprotective Roman Sionis x Y/N

That fucking bitch... Who did she think she was?

Roman stared at the empty glass standing on the coffee table with intensity, as if he wanted to break it by force of his will. Not just a glass, the whole table made from thick oak wood could collapse under the pressure of Roman's gaze. It wasn't some cheap crap from Ikea, it was a solid piece of wooden furniture imported from Romania that when you hit its edge with a knee, it leaves a big bruise. Roman had the luck to find out about it more than once, when he was looking for something in the living room in the dark. And despite his many vituperative curses aimed at the fancy piece of wood, the table was still standing in its place and was doing fine. This could however change now, when too many words were said in an impassioned argument  (all aimed at him - unfounded), Roman's mood was on the verge of collapse. A mixture of exploding emotions was bubbling inside him, flooding him like boiling lava, that couldn’t be cooled down by anything. Not even the frosty presence of his most trusted, vampire looking right hand.

"Boss..." Zsasz began cautiously, standing at the entrance to the living room. "You might want to hear it."

Experience had taught the assassin that a safe distance in moments of Roman's fury was the key to avoid being cowed by the physical effects of his boss's discharge of anger. One of the scars on Victor's cheek actually had come from a skirmish with a 16th-century statue that he failed to protect himself from in time.

"Not now." Roman droned. 

Zsasz, again relying on his invaluable knowledge of Roman, wasn't so quick to let it go. 

Sometimes when his boss was saying "no," it didn't always really mean "no." Sometimes it did, but usually it meant "maybe" or even "yes." Similar like with moody teenagers, but Victor would never admit it out loud. The ability to read Roman's moods and filtering the validity of the information was a science that Victor spent a lot of time learning and acquired through painful trial and error.

"It's about the girl."

At the mere mention of her, the lava of emotions in Roman's body boiled over, flooding him with anger and irritation. 

"What about that bitch?"

"Dent's men got her."

"What?" Roman furrowed and asked a dumb question, as if he didn't understand Zsasz.

In fact, his red-hot nervous system was unable to assimilate any other emotion than the one that was currently bubbling inside him, and this information blandly entered his consciousness. Only when the machinery of self-destruction began to slow down, allowing new facts and related feelings inside, Roman began to comprehend what had just been said to him. 

"Yeah, Ronnie saw two of his guys taking her from the gas station." Victor replied in a not too concerned voice, as if he didn't care at all about the girl's welfare, but only wanted to give his boss a high-priority message. Most likely that was exactly what it was.

She deserved it - that was the first thought that went through Roman's head in a fit of anger. She deserved to be taught a lesson. 

However, the thought was immediately superseded by another. She deserved a lesson, but at his hand.

Recognizing Roman's silence as indifference to the news he received, Zsasz seized the moment to share his clearly defined thoughts about the girl, hoping that perhaps now the seed would fall on fertile soil. 

"It's not a big loss for us, she didn't know much. I told you many times that she was only trouble, it couldn’t be avoided. Actually, it’s good that it happened, we can use it.”

"They took her?" Roman repeated dully. "But she belongs to me."

"She was just a bitch." Zsasz replied using Roman’s own words from a moment ago as if Roman had already forgotten his anger.

"She was my bitch, Zsasz. And no one takes what's mine. Where did they take her?"

The longer Roman thought about the situation, the still recent fury over the argument began to turn into something else. As bitter as stomach bile, it began to flood his throat in a stifling feeling of possessiveness and insult, like to a man who had had something taken from him against his will. It was a slap aimed at his person, his reputation. Someone was undermining his authority. 

"Hideout in Bowery."

"Get the boys ready."

Victor, dissatisfied with the vision of the return of a problem he thought just solved itself, nevertheless found interest in Roman's request. There was a spark of excitement in his empty eyes, which hosted there at exceptional moments. Although he would have been more happy to get rid of an inconvenient and completely unnecessary for them girl, the vision of satisfying his dark lusts was also very tempting. And it could compensate for having to deal with Y/N for a little while longer. Victor made no secret of it, he was jealous of Roman's time and attention, but he had fully understandable reasons for it. However, he knew his boss well enough to know that sooner or later the moment would come when they would both get rid of the distracting woman. And when that time comes, Victor will be standing right there, next to Roman, where he belonged. In the meantime, he had to wait, and his time was made more pleasant by the sweet melody coming from the recesses of his black, disturbing inside.

"You should show them that no one messes with you. They should all know not to mess with you." 

Roman was still angry with Y/N for opposing him and for the idiotic argument she provoked, out of sheer hysteria and only to manipulate him. It was all for show, he knew it. And Roman wanted to punish her for it, she should have been punished. But the vision that someone else would do it, that someone else would touch her, he didn’t like it. Y/N must have been horrified now, and she certainly regretted what she had done, that she had treated Roman so badly. She will apologize to him for behaving that way and thank him for saving her. Yes, Roman deserved an apology. 

And the motherfucker who dared to question his authority will regret it even more.

The room was filled with an irritating, musty stench of basement, dirt and dampness. Grey, cold walls without windows, partially covered with fungus, were meeting the floor of raw concrete. The artificial light coming from an incandescent bulb hanging on a single but sturdy cable was illuminating only part of the basement, allowing the corners of the room to remain in their mysterious darkness. The modest furnishings consisted of a small table with its glory years long behind it and a simple chair to which was now tied to a frightened, young woman. Although the dangerous world of Gotham had tested her more than once, brutally hardening her spirit, the situation she has found herself in now was gonna leave its mark on her for long. She didn’t look injured, just worn and frightened. Her hair was disheveled, covering half of her face. All of her limbs were in place, which was already no small feat for Gotham, but they were restrained and tied with a rope tightly to a chair.

The door to the basement opened wide with the accompaniment of gunshots. Y/N was staring with her eyes wide open as her saviors were coming to her rescue. Not really the hero types, rather quite the opposite. Victor Zsasz, with a demonic smile carved in his face, was leaning now over the profusely bleeding man, whom he himself had shot a moment ago. Y/N had the impression that Zsasz didn't shoot to kill on purpose; that he did it so he could satisfy his monstrous lusts with the sharp strokes of his knife finishing his already wounded victim. Shrill screams quickly turned into the sound of grunts and gurgling, not humanlike, as the goon began choking on his own blood. Despite the brutality of this act, Y/N wasn’t paying attention to it, her focus was set on the staircase, where a taller figure was descending the stairs unhurriedly. She didn’t have to wait till his face submerged from the shadows to know who he was, she already did. She was so relieved to see him.

Roman took the steps with a nonchalance that didn't fit the surrounding atmosphere a bit. He squirmed slightly at the sight of the growing puddle of blood, oozing from the gaping red wound on the neck of his assassin's victim, but it didn't throw him off balance. Maybe he even did it on purpose. He walked around the puddle without smudging his Italian soft leather shoes and approached Y/N. He clicked his tongue as if in displeasure at the sad sight that she was now.

Y/N was actually surprised how composed he was. For the past few hours, she had been stressing out first, whether he would survive, and second, how Roman would react when he found out someone was calling him out. He wasn’t good with his emotions, especially with anger, this morning's fight reminded Y/N good about it, although it started to fade among other revelations of the day. So why was he acting the way he was? As if he knew from the beginning that nothing happened to her… An absurd thought crossed Y/N’s mind, but she immediately pushed the thought aside. No, it would be too fucked-up, even for him. Y/N wasn’t delusional, she didn’t await concern and sympathy from Roman, she was grateful enough that he showed up at all to save her. But a small sting of an illusionary emotion was there, expecting at least some kind of reaction from him.

Roman slowly peeled off the duct tape from her mouth and ran his thumb over her cheek smeared with mascara, which must have run down along with her tears. Despite this almost affectionate gesture, his eyes remained cool and distant. Roman was staring down at Y/N, as if he was waiting for something. There was this shadow, almost cruel, lurking in his penetrating eyes, so much contrasting to the apparent tenderness with which he was displaying himself. It was as if he was continuing to play some sick game that only he was taking part in and trying to win at all costs.

Y/N cleared her throat, savoring anew the opportunity to speak freely. The words that had previously wanted so desperately to come out of her clenched throat now sounded quiet, quieter than she had expected. 

"Thanks for coming here."

The taste of her gratitude spread like the finest wine across Roman’s palate, he barely suppressed a smile. 

"Of course. You alright?" he asked with feigned concern.

"Yeah."

“Did they do anything to you?” He briefly eyed her up.

“No… I think they were trying to get to you…”  Saying it out loud was causing her difficulty, the shame of being a victim was burning her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to her hands, still restrained by the thick rope. 

"Could you...?” she asked.

As if unwillingly, Roman glanced in the direction of his personal assassin, who continued to kneel over the has-been goon. Both men must have possessed some higher form of communication, because Victor raised his gaze immediately as Roman's eyes landed on him. He understood the command and got up, perfunctorily wiping his bloody knife on his victim's shirt. Then he walked over to Y/N and cut the ropes on her wrists and ankles with quick, practiced movements. The woman automatically started rubbing the reddened areas on her freed limbs. 

"Thanks…”

Victor's face was foreign from gratitude. The dark sparks of excitement in his eyes were unmistakably the result of the activity he had only just engaged in and to which he immediately returned as soon as he had completed the order. It seemed that Zsasz's attitude towards her had not changed a bit.

Y/N rose from her chair as soon as she was freed, distancing herself from the traumatic experience as quickly as possible.

"Are they all...?" She asked Roman looking at the motionless body over which Zsasz was once again leaning. A carefully dissected flap of skin lay on the floor right next to it, in a pool of blood. Y/N averted her eyes before her stomach turned upside down. The air was beginning to get heavy from the pungent, metallic smell that was staying on your tongue.

"Victor and the boys took care of it. Nothing to worry about." Roman answered with a soft voice, almost velvety. It resembled a voice of a boy boasting about winning a game and expecting to be applauded. 

Y/N swallowed, she wanted to get out of here, get away as quickly as possible, erase this event from her mind or at least lock it away in its farthest corner, created for such events. 

"Can we go?”

"Sure, doll." Roman replied and put a loose strand of her hair behind her ear in a gesture of feigned tenderness. Only when the curtain of hair revealed the reddened skin on the left side of her face, his soft, gloating smile faded. There was a burning, uneven shape spreading across her cheek, most likely from a hit. The edge had already run up with blood and was slightly swollen, leaving no doubt about the brutality of the gesture. Roman ran his finger over Y/N’s cheek, assessing the amount of damage like an appraiser looking at a wrecked car, as if he still didn't believe it was there. The skin under his fingertip was reddened and tense, a flaw on a pretty face.

"Someone hit you?" He asked with disbelief.

"It doesn't hurt." She pushed his hand away trying to preserve the remnants of her pride.

Roman didn’t let her, he only gripped her cheek tighter, to get a better look of the hit. All his nonchalant demeanor momentarily disappeared, his all focus on the ugly shape. Dangerous notes vibrated in his voice.

"Tell me who hit you.”

Y/N swallowed and answered. He wasn’t asking and she didn’t want to fight, she just wanted to leave to this place.

“The one with long hair and moustache. But it doesn't hurt, can we already leave, please? I really want to get out of here..."

Roman did not hear her further words as his senses were flooded by an uncontrollable urge to murder.

He could not bear the ugly mark on her face, the very sight of it aroused in him a burning feeling of uncontrollable rage. A brazen mark of insult aimed at him. 

The very fact that someone dared commit such an offensive act against him.

Roman had held a grudge for this morning's fight with YN and was content with her apologies, her obvious remorse, but now that anger of wounded ego was gone without a trace, replaced by a rage spreading across his mind like a rampant fire.

"Zsasz." Roman growled, at which his personal assassin immediately raised his head. "End this. I want this fucker to suffer."

Zsasz smiled predatorily while exposing his teeth. He wiped his knife with the sweet intention of using it again. His hand trembled until he thought how softly it would plunge into the flesh of his new victim.

"Sure, boss."

tags:

@thegreatwicked @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover @vmenfangirl @creativelyquestioninglife @daithideolishmer18

thought it might be to your liking, no pressure, feel free to say if you aren't interested!

credits:

dividers: @cafekitsune / link to dividers

gif: @scottxlogan / gif

[batman-dc-imagines]

Could you do a letter from Black Mask to the reader while he's locked up in Arkham/Blackgate?

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘬𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

Arkham!Black Mask

𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤

𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬.

𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

- 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Coveted

Summary: You and your bestie go out to celebrate her divorce, unfortunately you just happen to stumble into the bar of the guy youve only been on three dates with, Roman Sionis.

Reader x Roman Sionis

1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, binding, swearing, couch fucking

The lights of the club are blinding, the music is loud and the crowd is like a swarm of bees trying to cram their way through the door.

You'd rather be anywhere else. But it's not everyday your bestie gets divorced and this is where she wanted to go. So, you strapped on your heels and your prettiest dress and now you're standing right inside the club. 

Deep breath, deep breath. You can do this. Karlie wraps her arm through yours, squealing a little bit as the security guard ushers you out of the doorway. “So, is your mystery man coming tonight?” She leans in, sounding excited.

“I hope not.” You mumble, but she's not paying attention anyway, “tonight's about you babe!” You squeal successfully distracting her, “let's go have some fun.”

“Lets!” She giggles, “I wanna find the youngest, hottest idiot and fuck his brains out.”

“Kay, babe. I'll keep an eye out.”

The night seems to be going well. Karlie is getting a bit tipsy but with you constantly feeding her glasses of water in between drinks she keeps her head on her shoulders.

You dance and drink together. All the while your eyes scan the room, over and over. He told you he owned a club, but this can't be it. It's way too flashy and every time you've met him it's been very low-key.

Maybe you're mistaken? After all, you've been here nearly 2 hours and haven't seen him. It must be a different club. Maybe one of those classy ass cigar lounges, dude did look like he was rolling in it.

A young man approaches your table, his red curly hair flowing just past his shoulders and his crisp white shirt is hugging at his sides. 

“That's the one,” Karlie shouts, “Wish me luck,” she mouths to you, jumping from her seat almost immediately and leading the man to the dance floor. You laugh at her enthusiasm.

You watch her dance and then make out with the man. Your drink resting in your hand. You're almost about to leave her to it when you notice someone approaching the booth.

“Come with me, miss.” The large woman orders you.

“I was just leaving.” 

“Come with me miss,” she repeats, “now please.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” she shrugs, “sorry.”

She walks you up a flight of stairs and into a darkened room. “Where are we going?” you ask, but the woman ignores you, opening the heavy metal door. All you see is the blue lights that seem to be hidden under the walls and a dark figure sitting on the lounge at the back. You take a step inside and begin to panic when you hear the door click shut behind you.

“Ummm, ma'am,” you turn trying to open the locked door, “ma'am what is this? Ma'am?” 

You hear the click of expensive shoes behind you. Approaching slowing from the back of the room, gods you’re so fucked.

You turn, knowing that there's no real escape here and are suddenly met with a pair of eyes that you recognise. “Roman?”

“Hello darling.” His soft gloved hand gently takes hold of your chin as he steps closer, “did you come here just to tempt me?”

“No, i- my friend, she-”

“is firmly distracted by my man.”

“Roman, I should get back to her.”

“She,” he leans forward, his breath a tingle on your ear, “will be taken good care of tonight, my darling. I want you all to myself.” his arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer, “I feel like you've been teasing me all night.”

“I didn't even know you were here.”

“That's worse.” His teeth sink into your neck and his tongue licks at you, “I knew you were here the moment you hit my sidewalk.” his gloves slip up your dress, searching for the zip, “and you have been teasing me ever since.”

“If I had known you were watching me,” your fingers move fast to the buttons of his shirt, “I would've been naughtier.”

“You were plenty naughty,” he spins you, fed up with his struggle to find your zip. He rips it open with force but his hands are slow while he peals it from your shoulders, his lips chasing the fabric. “Sitting so quietly, ignoring my attempts to get your attention.”

“I didn't do it on purpose.” You smile, knowing he can't see it. 

“And if you had?”

“I would've found something to get me in more trouble.”

“Do you enjoy punishment, darling?”

i“Hmm. With you?” You arch back, pushing your ass into his groin, “I think I could find it very enjoyable.” 

“Let's get to it then, darling.” He lifts you from behind, carrying you over the room and throwing you into the couch, “ass over the arm.” 

“And if I don't?”

He laughs, “please, by all means Resist darling. It makes it way more fun for me.”

You start to squirm, but Romans strong hands have a tight hold for you. His knees press your legs open as his hand around your hair pushes your face into the couch cushions.

“Stop squirming.” His fingers tighten on your hair, pulling your hair back.

“Fucking hell, Romie.” You pant, your ass lifting up in the air as your tummy curves down and your back is beautifully arched.

“You look perfect like this,” he groans into your ear, his free hand making quick work of your panties and then his belt.

You smirk at him over your shoulder. sliding yourself off the couch and moving to get up. “Can't punish what you can't catch.”

“Oh, pretty girl.” His voice is low and dangerous, “I’ve already caught you.” His gloved hand wraps around the back of your throat stopping you in your tracks. His other hand sliding up and under the remains of your dress, “and I know you don't wanna run from me.” 

You shiver in his arms, and he chuckles, wrapping the expensive leather of his belt over your wrists and pinning them to your back.

“Get on the couch,” he presses you forward, his knees kicking yours up and pushing you down into the cushions, “stay right there,” he orders you and you wiggle a sad attempt at pretending to fight.

“What will you do with me?” Your whine turns into a moan as he tears off the remnants of your dress and lands a hard slap on your pussy.

“Teach you what I do to pretty girls who tease me.” He slaps you again. Then his strong fingers are ripping at the seams of your panties and you hear him inhale. “what a fuckin mess.” He slaps you again, “can't have my pretty girl making a mess on my couch.”

“Fuck,” you pant, sticking your ass up and trying to find anything to Grind down on, something to give you the pressure you need, “Roman, please.”

“Yes, pretty girl.” His voice was deep and mischievous, “beg for me.” 

The slice of his zipper cuts through the air, the cling of his belt sending jolts of anticipation  through you. When the expensive leather wrap tightens around you as he pushes you further into the couch, holding you right where he wants you.

“Please Roman,” your legs kick but find no target, “please,” you try to move your arms, but he presses them harder into your back, “I need you, fuck.” 

“What lovely noises you make for me.” His cock slaps at your pussy, teasing you. You scream his name and he laughs. “Stop squirming, it just makes me want to tease you more.” He slips his cock between your lips grinding through them the tip just barely grazing your clit and sending you into a blissful torture. 

“Please fuck me Roman, “ tears start to sell in your eyes, “I can't take it.”

He grabs you by the hair, pulling you back so your chest is slush with his stomach.  His voice a growl in your ear, “not yet. But you will learn to take it from me.” He grinds up, giving you a tiny dose of what's in store as he grinds his cock into your clit.

“Yes, I can.” You pant, “I will. But please. “ You barely have the last word or before he moves back. His cock slip's right into the dropping mess between your legs. 

His gloved hand moves from your hair to your neck,  directing your face to the side and his lips meet yours. His pace is almost as punishing as his kiss. Fierce, hard and unrelenting. 

You feel light headed whether from the kiss or the fucking, you can't tell. But both are intoxicating, he's intoxicating. You twist and the soft leather glides over your thigh and between your legs. Stopping at your clit, he does move just gives you something to grind down on. 

“It's too much,”  you somehow manage to say between garbled moans.

“Take it for me”

“Roman I-”

“I got you. Take it”

“Yes,” you lean back into him. Your muscles relax as you're pussy starts to contract,  “Roman I I think”

“Your mine now pretty girl”

“Yes”

“Say it”

“I'm yours”

“Yes,  keep saying it.” He moans, makes me wanna come

“I'm yours, I am all yours, all of me.” You scream as you explode in a cacophony of pleasure over him and he picks up the pace. You keep saying it as his fingers bruise into you.

“More more”

“Roman I am yours”

“Fuck” he screams through gritted teeth “Fuck fuck,  Yes” he keeps slamming into you as his pace slows down. 

With a deep sigh he stops. Leaning his back into the couch and wiping his brow. “You,  ah.  You're something else.” You hear him smile as his fingers release you from your bonds and he helps you recline into him. 

“Hmmm.” You hum, resting your head on his shoulder, “this was nice.”

“Just nice,” he laughs and you feel his dick inside you twitch, “have to try something else next time then.”

“It was great,  I just-”

“Got your brains fucked out and can't think?”

“Yeah, xctly.”

“Rest pretty girl,”  his hands soothe down your sides. 

“Think I will”

“Good,” his lips gently press into your temple and your eyes flutter close. You’re nearly about to drift right off into dreamland when you swear you hear him say, “You’re all mine now, Darling.” was that another kiss? “You’ll never be free of me.”

[yandere-wishes]

｡༺ 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮! 𝓣𝓲𝓶 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔁 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻༻｡

｡༺ 𝓑.𝓞.𝓐.𝓣 𝓫𝔂  𝓔𝓵𝓲𝔃𝓪 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 ༻｡

Okay, so we've given all the Yandere batboys a "Cat Darling" except Tim.

[And like, could someone explain to me why people seem to hate Tim Drake?? He's literally the LOVE of my life]

Thinking her burglar name could be either StarCat or Kitten, your choice.

Anyway, his darling is probably the chronically online one. Literally iPad child. Her civilian personality is that of a semi-popular internet star, mostly in smaller niche circles like cosplay/fandom spaces/a few tech DIY spaces.

Also, this is going to sound so self-serving, but like, what if the reader had a Tumblr/AO3 where she posts  Red Robin x reader content? But after meeting him, she kinda gets stuck in a love-hate relationship with the guy...but her fics get progressively more detailed and specific. Cause like she hates him but the crush is still so obviously there!!😆😆

ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼•ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼

He's never been good at managing his obsessions. They always seem to fester fiercely within him, like tree roots feeding on hollow bones, bubbling over and spilling out from every crevice. He can't keep them inside, can't tame the infatuation, sadiate the fixation. Can't ignore the siren's calls or celestial pulls. 

No...

Tim's never been good at managing his obsessions. 

Especially this new one.

The stars seem so much brighter in your eyes. You lay spiraled out on the rooftop, leg dangling off the edge with your tablet held at an odd angle overhead. You mutter into your com-link "5 more seconds before security is down". As you chew on the end of your leather tail. 

You're the ace up Catwoman's sleeve. Her new protegee. The two of you have been hitting bank after bank. Licking up the precious gems the Gotham elite keep hidden. 

Tim's been sent to deal with you, while Batman takes out Catwoman downstairs. But he can't help but be mesmerized by your playful giggles, and sparking eyes. It's all a game to you, like playing Barbie's past bedtime. He can't help but find that almost endearing. 

You turn on your stomach, half crouched, half lying down. Like a kitten about to pounce on a toy mouse. "You're Red Robin" you squeal and Tim has to do a doubletake, knees weak at the sudden burst of attention. 

You jump, he readies his staff but the blows never come. Instead, you stand before him so close he can practically feel the heat from your body. "I'm your biggest fan!", for a second Tim thinks you're going to reach for his hand, his heart reverberates in his throat. You're cute, too cute.

"Any way I could convince you to give up your crime spree? You know since you're such a big fan and all..." You laugh, a light-hearted airy sound, and give him a clumsy twirl as you return to your edge. "Not a chance, I'm finally living my dream life!" 

You jump onto the edge eyes gleaming as they stare a him. No not him, Tim notes, the moment. You're entranced by this moment. 

The moon, the dark, the city lights, the masked man standing before you. For a second he almost sees his reflection cascading across your essence. You're him, little kid with dreams so big it's started to eat you alive. 

You tilt your head and pout your lips. Tim thinks you'd make one hell of an actress or an idol. Your clawed finger clicks your com, "All set boss!" you meow. You offer Tim a final bow before throwing yourself into the dark abyss below. Tim rushes to grab you but it's too late.

You're gone. 

His obsession only grows from there, raw and primal. He can taste nostalgia in the back of his throat every time he sees your picture. Thick and sticky like molten caramel. 

You're so much like him, so precious in your own right. Little girl playing superheroes, dancing across the night's sequence, basking in the ethereal of having the world below your feet. Disappearing into the dark, merging with the stars, high off the nectar-coated ideals behind your teeth. Savoring their melt upon your tongue. 

You'd have been best friends in the sandbox. Tim thinks. 

He's scouring the Batcomputer.

Ripping apart every inkling he finds. 

Who is this new Kitten? 

He sees you again in a sugar-spun ensemble stitched from lace and longing, draped in cascading frills and ribbons. Equal parts candygram and popcorn but ever only purple in shade. He recognizes the playful tilt of your head and the way you stare to the side when you're too deep in thought. Every move is woven in porcelain elegance. Little doll playing dress up. 

His hunch is proven right when he hears your voice.

"Do you think Red Robin would like this outfit?" you ask an invisible audience who answer hours later in the comment section, dedicating little hearts and kisses in agreeance.

His name spills from between your lips and Tim swears he sees stars. Your delicate cadence flutters through his veins pricking his heart till it dedicates every pump to you. 

Tim doesn't notice how hard he's biting his thumb. 

Doesn't notice the scarlet droplets marring the keyboard below. 

He's trying to keep you out of the Gotham National Bank's system, he can recognize your pattern anywhere. The little kitty cat errors that keep popping up. The stars that litter the screen forcing it to bluescreen. He's almost there, you're almost gone. 

Bruce, hollars commands into his ears. 

But Tim is too enthralled by the screen to notice

A single message glitches and gleams.

'It Was Fun Red Robin~♡'  

He has you caged beneath him. Fingers digging into your shoulders. You look so cute struggling to break free. So adorable that he just can't help himself. 

He presses his lips to your neck, pulling down the leather with his teeth and suckling on the ripe flesh. Stardust sprinkles into his mouth as his tongue traverses the length of your neck. Before ensnaring your plump perfect lips. His hands feel down your body memorizing every curve. He can feel you struggling. Kicking trying to break free. 

But he just can't let you get away. He needs you wholly, desperately. More than he's ever needed anything.

But he can't let you go. You taste like heaven on his tongue. Your claws melt into his back, tearing fabric and flesh. But the bloodletting feels like holy bliss from your hands, he'd gladly lick the blood from your claws and call it ichor. 

Your ethos haunts him.

He writes you love letters to you penned in his blood. 

Every quaver of his bones he dedicates to you. 

He's sprawled out on his bed reading your latest story. It's about him, as they always tend to be.  You call him such mean words all laced with a saccharinee undertone of idolization. You have him call you 'darling' and 'kitten'. Have him treat so roughly yet so lovingly. Is that how you want him to act? 

Did you really mean it when you said you're his biggest fan? 

ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼•ฅ≽(•⩊ •マ≼

There's also another delicious little inkling I want to leave you guys with. Imagine reader starts receiving PR from Janus Cosmetics. Imagine Roman starts to take note of the cute little kitten showcasing his company's newest products. Starts to relish in your babydoll act, enjoying you twirling around in your cute skirts and curling your hair around your finger. Imagine Roman Sionis falling for catgirl! reader as well. Imagine poor little reader trapped between Yandere Tim Drake and Yandere Roman Sionis...Poor little kitty cat, whatever will you do? 

[nxtaliaistyping]

More Two-Face p links pretty please? Thank you in advance!

Batrogues | p links part three

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

nsfw 18+, part one here and part two here

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Two-Face:

He hires you to be his secretary

Makes you strip in his office and has you like this (but of course you have to keep the stockings on)

Fucking you in his car because he was too desperate to wait until you were inside

Punishments are needed, and he loves your little whimpers

How he treats you on those soft evenings, where he just wants to feel you in his arms

Loves a girl with a soft/pink/girly aesthetic, even if he does feel a little bit like a perv

The Scarecrow:

He’s a sadistic man, he loves the slight shock and fear in your eyes after a slap

Suprisingly into roleplay, and the scarecrow captures innocent girl in the woods is an appealing concept for him

He loves skirts on you, especially when he’s had a shitty day

Loves putting your legs over your head, thinks it makes his pet look even sluttier

How you get when you watch a horror movie together and you get scared <3

Being over his lap just feels so natural, doesn’t it?

The Riddler:

Buys you silk pajamas to wear such as these (he obviously has his own set in dark green)

I’m telling you, he loves thicker girls

Prides himself on his good he is with his hands

Why are you watching that infernal device when you could be paying attention to him? Hm?

Makes you do this on the floor at his feet to prove you’re worthy enough/needy enough for his cock

What he does to you after that

Black Mask:

Needs you to be ready wherever you both are

How he fucks when he takes you in one of his supply factories

This just screams him vibes

Mouthing off to him at a party means he just takes you to the bathroom

Sometimes he just wants you to shut up

If his hands won’t work maybe your panties will

The Mad Hatter:

He does so hate when his Alice disobeys him

See how nice it is when you drink his tea and do what he asks?

Your taste is addictive

Loves loves loves to kiss you, to taste the honey from his tea he’d made you drink

If you’re good, he’ll give you this as a treat, so you can always feel how much love he has for you

This seems like something he’d be into

[gilverrwrites]

The fuck or die with Jason and Black Mask, but after your first orgasm, Roman makes Jason flip you over on your stomach so you can take Roman in your mouth

CW: Name-calling, slut shaming, dubious consent, choking, spit. [Original ask for reference]

And you know Roman fucks you the opposite way to Jay. Red Hood is caressing you like you’re the most delicate flower he’s ever laid his hands on. Brushing back your tears, telling you how strong you are, how well you’re doing as he tries not to break your tight, aching heat as he splits you open on his dick.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” He whispers, mainly for you, partly for himself as he finds your sweet spots, determined to make this as enjoyable as possible for you. “I’m gonna make you feel good, so good. I promise.”

Even when he gets rougher, biting, pinching, choking, fucking into your tender flesh with all the force he can muster at Romans command, he’s still cooing sweet words in your ear. Trying to sooth you every time you twitch or whine. He can see the mortified expression on your face, conscious of all those masked eyes burning into you, so he tells you to keep your eyes on him, let him ride you through it.

“God, fuck, sorry. You look so beautiful right now. Fuck fuck fuck.” Its all barely a whisper, his eyes bulging behind his mask at the sight of you withering on his full length, throwing your head back, sputtering on your own moans as he guides you over the edge. He’s never seen a more breathtaking sight and he hates that it had to happen like this. His chest heaves as he tries to keep from spilling over himself, from pumping you full of his cum. “That it, fuck that’s it. You’re perfect, you’re so good.”

He knows it’s cheesy as hell, but he means every word. He wants this to be pleasurable for you. He’s so proud of you.

Roman is quick to start unsowing those seeds. Not only does Roman want to fuck you like some cheap, 2-bit whore, he wants you to feel like a cheap, 2-bit whore.

“You came so fast, did you like that?” Your answer is unimportant, and unwarranted. You’re already gagging around his cock as he bottoms out in your throat. “You like being stretched out on Red Hood's fat dick, huh? Easy fucking whore.”

He thrusts hard inside your mouth, causing you to cough and sputter, eyes watering as you unconsciously try to pull away. In sync they both grab you. Jason holds your hips, unable to stop a scathing hiss from escaping his mouth as he tries to prevent you from fully impaling your already abused and sensitive core on him again, saving you from further bruising your insides.

Roman on the other hand snatches the scruff of your neck; ensuring you take every inch of him. Ensuring all you can see, smell, and taste is him. He smells so strong, commands such a presence, if not for the intoxicating stretch of Red Hood in your sex, it would be easy to be totally overwhelmed by him.

He sets a merciless pace, fucking your face ‘like the fuck-toy you are.’ Only allowing you seconds to breathe when absolutely necessary to keep you conscious. Spitting in your open maw as you desperately pant for air. You're so dazed and depraved that you can only half comprehend when he's talking to you.

“Are you having a good time, doll?” Your head throbs as he wrenches you up and down is a pathetic, imitation of a nod. Roman thinks you’re breathtaking to with those glassy eyed, wet cheeks, swollen lips, it’s enough to make his cock throb. “Of course you are. Fucking love getting railed from both ends, don’t you? Nasty slut."

[acapelladitty]

`♡° kinktober 2024! ---

☆ kink: Exhibitionism

☆ pairing: Black Mask/Reader

☆ summary: Summoned to a meeting with Roman and his goons, you find yourself the new focus of his attention.

kinktober '24 ☆ main masterlist ☆ ao3

Comfortable in the side room to Roman’s office, your typical haunt while he was conducting business, the busted air con made the air as hot as hell and your shirt had been the first to go as soon as thin beads of sweat started to roll across your collarbone. Roman was doing business, his stock reply when you asked what his day had in store, and you had shuffled off to let him get on with it rapidly.

The room was nice enough, a plush sofa filling most of the left wall with the end of the sofa housing a portable fridge by its side – the shelves housing a mixture of soft drinks and alcohols which could be accessed when necessary. The television was playing some action movie which you had selected in a moment of sheer boredom and it had done nothing to catch your attention as you lounged comfortably.

A bead of sweat rolls across your chest and you watch it drip past your collarbone and disappear down the space between your tits until its absorbed by the lace bra. Following its path with a soft sigh, you tease along your skin as an immediate decision to enjoy yourself a little bit settles in your thoughts. Your fingers continue their downward descent until they reach the white linen of your loose pants and it takes only a moment to unhook the latch and pull them free of your ass – the fabric dropping to the floor in a messy pile next to your abandoned shirt.

With only your bra and panties remaining, you glance at the fading bruises which lace your wrists as your fingers stroke a slow line across the fabric of your panties. With little else to do, you choose to take your time and tease yourself a little.

A plan which is immediately scuppered as a familiar whistle forces you to pull your fingers from the fabric of your panties and quickly stand. Striding over to the door, your heels silent against the plush carpeting, you open the door and step through without too much thought.

Roman wasn’t alone.

Caught off-guard and immediately regretting not throwing your clothes back on, you don’t let the surprise stop you as any signs of weakness or hesitation on your part would let Roman down. A fact which he wasn’t quiet about as he made your role in his life very clear.

Besides, it wasn’t like Roman hadn’t shared you before with some of his more deserving clientele.

The two henchmen you didn’t recognise but what you did recognise was the open leer which graced their features as you sauntered past their standing positions to deposit yourself firmly in Roman’s lap.

Excitement flooding your groin at the audience, you can feel Roman’s cock pressing against your ass as you make yourself comfortable.

“Where are the rest of your clothes?”

Growling the question, you can sense that he’s actually quite pleased by your lack of appropriate wear and he grinds his clothed cock into your cunt to emphasise his point.

“What? Oh! I must have forgotten them.” Playing up your role, you tilt your head and bat your eyelashes up at him as a contended smile slips across your lips.

“Whore,” Roman accuses.

“Yours,” you agree. “So why did you call me? What do you need, Mr. Sionis?”

Using his title is always a winner and you can feel the approval rumbling through his chest as he focuses his attention past you and back to his two henchmen.

“Gentlemen, the lady here has a very hard task to attend to and she’ll be out of sight in only a moment so we can attend to our business.”

Bucking his knee slightly, you take the hint and remove yourself from his lap to drop to the floor instead. The carpet is comfortable enough against your knees as you back yourself under his desk and flex your hands against his thighs – eyeing up his tented cock with a dry mouth. “As you can see, she’s nothing if not committed to her role as a cock-hungry whore. Anyway, in regard to our plans for the casino funding-”

Roman continues his speech as you fumble messily at his zip before unbuttoning his fly. His cock, already half-hard, didn’t take much coaxing to release from his boxers and a satisfied hum vibrates your lips as you wrap your hand around his base of it, giving him a few teasing strokes. Your cunt feels hot against your panties but you know better than to touch yourself in front of him without his direct permission so you instead focus on jerking along his shaft with slow movements, your other hand shifting from his thighs to squeeze at his balls – enjoying the way that his cock twitches at the undivided attention.

His voice drones overhead, the words utterly meaningless to you as you shift your head forward and catch the tip of his cock between your lips. From this position, you know that the back of your head is perfectly visible to the others in the room and that fact has you pressing your thighs together as your cunt drips and heat flares across your exposed skin.

The taste of him rolls across your tongue and as you inhale steadily to maintain your breath, the familiar smell of his skin – musk and errant droplets of cologne – invades your senses and you moan around his length. Your head works quickly, bobbing along his cock with a steady pressure as you swallow him down in the way he likes; all the ‘training’ he forced you through making it second nature at this point.

A sharp tug on your hair pulls your head free of his cock and you glance up with slack, pre-cum stained lips at Roman as he glances down at you with a cruel smirk.

“I’m bored of your mouth,” he hisses and you drop your eyes submissively as the pressure in your scalp makes you whimper. “Get off your knees and get back on my lap, you little slut. Daddy wants his princess to warm his cock while he finishes up his very important business.”

His hand doesn’t leave your hair as he pulls you to your feet, giving you only a moment to deposit yourself back on his lap. Your shaky fingers are quick to pull your damp panties to the side – granting him the access he will need as you keep your back to his henchmen and make yourself comfortable on his wide thighs.

Sliding yourself down on his cock, a shuddering breath slips free of your lips as the discomforting stretch of him sparks a delicious pleasure across your groin. You were wet, but maybe not wet enough as the friction of him pressing against your walls is intense in the heat that it ignites. A thick arm winds around your waist, pinning you into place and preventing you from escaping his length as Roman rolls his hips against yours, his head tilted past your shoulder to never waver from his goons.

“Attack the shipment.” Roman growls, his free hand dipping down into the space between you to trail teasingly past your pubic hair until his thick forefinger locates your clit – quickly rubbing wicked circles around the ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves. “I want Dent to know the price of fucking with us while he thinks we’re distracted.”

Clenching around his cock as you milk him with every roll of your hips, you settle in to putting on a show that you know will make your master proud and give the rest of them something to fantasise about.

[tarrenterror25]

Black Mask, Hush (if you want) and Two Face training reader to be their good girl 🥵

OH 💖

Black Mask:

-Involves a lot of bondage and degradation -You wanna be his good girl? Just let him use you as a stress toy, tell him how much you love being used by him. -Impact play with him testing your limits and slowly building up your pain tolerance from spanking with his hand to using a branded paddle with his initials. -Let him put his hands on you no matter where you are; the car, the club, a meeting. God, he gets so desperate for you, he just needs you, needs his hands on you, needs to be buried inside you. -Being Roman's good girl is being ready to explore things with him; he wants to fuck you literally everywhere and he wants to fuck you in every way possible, with his hands, his cock, toys, using your cunt, ass, mouth, everything, he's insatiable for you. -Being submissive to him is a one way ticket to being spoiled by him.

Two-Face:

-Likes someone who can cater to both sides of him -Definitely is a brat tamer and pairs well with the duality of a brat; someone who can push his buttons and is a bit of a menace, but once he puts you in your place you're all soft and pathetic and helpless -He likes to push your buttons, too; cockwarming with you in his lap while he sits at his desk going over some heist plans or just idly rolling his coin in between his fingers, pretending that he doesn't notice you squirming or hear you whining for more -Being his good girl means taking him as he is; sometimes he wants to fuck you six ways to Sunday, bent over and screaming for him and other times he wants to take you nice and slow, you on top so he can see you and admire you.

Hush:

(okay ive never written for hush so im sorry if this doesn't seem right)

-Manipulative, he'll sweetly convince you to slowly break down your defenses for him -You're perfect to him, buuut he might make some suggestions on things that could be changed, just in theory though unless you want him to alter you. Having you lie naked while he takes a marker and gently draws little lines all over your flesh of where he would like to change you, highlight your features or he's just circling the parts he likes already -Lots of receiving and reciprocating body worship is how to be Hush's good girl. -Loves to fuck you while you wear something expensive