#ledger!joker x patrick verona x reader

[ledgerserious8]

..My Masterlists..

A Fact : Me as fan of heath ledger doesn't mean that i can't write for any another actor but most of this imagines is about him

My Wattpad..

Heath Ledger Imagines :

Break up with Him

Meeting your ex boyfriend

Roses from your lover

In the prison of the joker

Patrick want your heart

The joker fighting with batman

Heath survived because of you

Your boyfriend becomes playful

Joaquin Phoenix Imagines :

Interview with him

Waking up your boyfriend

Your neighbor is arthur

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) Imagines :

Trust Issues from Bruce

He's Your Home

He's fighting the joker for you

Your boyfriend is so sick

Smut Imagines (soon) :

Put A Love (Patrick Verona)

Birthday Gift (Bruce Wayne)

Note : this post will keep getting updated or edited time by time in the future i will add a lot of characters and actors

Have 4 Nice Day..

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

HEATH LEDGER MASTERLIST

REQUESTS CLOSED

Fics under cut

-

JOKER

Bunny

Joker x Fem!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part Three)

Joker x Reader with anxiety 

Summary: !!Request!! All Y/n wanted was to deposit money into her bank account, but what happens when the bank she arrives at gets robbed by the Joker? And what happens when she catches his eye?

[ajokeformur-ray]

I was thinking maybe if (J x Pat x Reader) made/had dinner together?

Katieeee ~ 🥰💛🥰 hiiiii, darling!!!!😊 I had so much fun writing this! I hope that you enjoy it. It’s been a while since I wrote for the Ledger!OT3 so you’ll have to forgive anything rusty.

Please send @loveletterstoledger some love, she was so kind to read this over for me while it was being written and to tell me if these men were in character. I love you so much, angel!💙

Word count: 1, 714.

When you had somewhat jokingly said to J several days ago that you liked to live dangerously and that you wished you could do it more often...

... This hadn’t been what you had had in mind.

In fact, if you had known that this was what J had been planning, you would have backpedalled so fast out of that conversation that you would have slipped off the proverbial cliff.

You had been exhausted lately; everything was just too much and so overwrought were you that you barely had the energy to even think about making dinner for the three of you, let alone to actually do it.

You opened the freezer, sifted the contents around, and tried to concentrate on making a list of what you needed more of. 

You liked to do multiple things at once to at least give yourself the feeling of being put together,

But control is an illusion, this you knew, as did J.

So when you dropped the bag of frozen peas because the grip in your fingers suddenly went slack and you didn’t respond to Pat’s gentle calling of your name, J knew that you needed to give up the illusion for one night.

Enough was enough and if there was one thing J didn’t tolerate, it was you suffering in any kind of way.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Pat tried to get your attention once more and you seemed to finally register him as you nodded.

“What? Yeah, just - tired, is all. M’fine.”

You relinquished your grip on the bag of peas and Pat scoffed, his dark brows furrowed.

He, too, couldn’t abide even the idea of you suffering. Keeping you safe and healthy and happy was the one thing which held he and J together, most especially because you knew how to break through Pat’s tendency to jump to the defense quickly, and you could see through J’s attempts to put those very walls up in the younger man.

And love... Oh, there was so much of it between the three of you that sometimes did it feel like a fourth presence in the room, watching over the three human inhabitants and giving them a safe and homely feel when they three were all together at the end of a long day.

Pat shook his head in disbelief. He shot J a look over your shoulder and the elder man shrugged. 

Despite his casual attitude, however, J’s chocolate gaze was pinned on you. He didn’t like this. not one bit.

“You’re not fine. Come here, love.” With one hand on your elbow, Pat reached across the room and somehow grabbed a chair. He pulled it towards you and looked at you expectantly.

When you didn’t immediately react, Pat huffed again and pointedly - but with care - pushed down on your shoulder with the hand that had been wrapped around your elbow. “Sit down before you fall down, Y/N. You’re exhausted. When was the last time you went to sleep?”

“Last night. Haven’t been sleeping well, but I have been sleeping. I’m fine, Pat.”

J had been watching this exchange quietly. He said nothing, but he took in Pat’s tender frustration, your exhaustion and your obvious want for a night for your two loves by your side, where they belonged.

“You, ah - ya’ still want a taste of danger, doll?” 

You eyed J warily but he remained undeterred.

“Why don’t, ah - why don’t the kid and I make dinner, hm? Ya’ can sit and - “ J waved a hand around like he was trying to conjure the words up out of nowhere, “look pretty.” You sat there staring at J in disbelief and he nodded in approval. “Ya’ a natural!” 

You felt your face heat up in a blush at the easy compliment and J’s eyes seemed to deepen as he stood there looking at you, exhausted but still trying to function at your usual level.

You were a strong one; he had taught you that, and he was proud of you.

If J got his way, then dinner would be some paper takeaway menus and a phone call.

But Pat was a natural caregiver and you were worried enough as it was.

The last thing the younger of the two men wanted you to worry about was where the money for the takeaway was going to come from, and so he resolved to make you something.

It had been J’s idea and so the clown was going to help, whether he wanted to or not. 

There was nothing Pat wouldn’t do for you and in truth was J much the same. 

Though the two men were quite different, you were their common interest and the glue which held them together. 

This night was your comfort paramount, so exhausted were you and so desperately did you not even want to have to worry about even the small things.

With the decision made, J began to open cupboards, his eyes scanning the contents before he moved onto the next cupboard, not shutting anything, and Pat swore under his breath and began to move up behind J.

Pat pulled bits and pieces from the cupboards as he went, “J, will you stop? We’re meant to be helping, not create more mess!”

J grunted in acknowledgement that Pat had spoken and the younger man correctly translated the noise to be one of agreement, though J went no further.

He did, however, pointedly slam a cupboard door shut, making Pat clench his jaw against saying something as he began to put a meal together for the three of you. 

The peas you had grabbed earlier, some pasta (catered to any dietary restrictions or choices you had), some spices... a few more things from the freezer...

It had meant to be a group effort to make dinner but what ended up happening was that J leaned against the counter beside the oven top and made sassy comments with his arms folded over his eccentrically covered chest, and you approached Pat once steam began to curl up from the various saucepans and frying pans to wrap your arms around his waist.

You curled into Pat and he hummed, tipping his head back distractedly to awkwardly press a kiss to the nearest parts of you he could reach. 

Pat was fully focused on making dinner and his dark brows were furrowed as he taste tested and then chucked the used teaspoons into the sink. A double dipper he was not.

“Dinner’s ready. J, can you - “

Before Pat had finished speaking, you pulled away from him and J had, already in his hands, three plates. 

And so it continued that at the point where Pat would ask for something, J had already done it, and you realised that J hadn’t just been tormenting Pat.

He had been keeping the younger man company, observing how he cooked and how he preferred his food, and making sure that Pat didn’t hurt himself as he prepared dinner.

J cared and it made your heart swell in your chest at how subtle J’s affections were unless one knew how to look for them.  

Pat noticed, too, and as he grabbed two plates to take them over to the table, he casually kissed J’s cheek. “Getting soft in your old age, J?”

“Care-ful, kid-do,” J’s words were soaked in amusement - he enjoyed the banter as much as Pat did. “This old man’s not slow.”

You three sat at the table and Pat kept an eye on you as you both ate; J, for his part, was more preoccupied with keeping an eye on his younger partners. 

He wasn’t all that hungry, anyway, and he had seen some poptarts in the cupboard... 

To J’s relief, his younger partners had eaten, and he felt a part of himself, a part he liked to hide and otherwise deny even to his own self, become relieved to know that the people he chose to spend his precious time with were taking care of themselves - even if your own hand had been forced.

“Thank you for dinner, Pat,” Instead of simply getting up and starting with the dishes, you sat further forward and wrapped your arms around Pat’s neck. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Pat kissed the side of your head and then you turned to the side, slowly unfurling your arms from around Pat and throwing yourself at J, who let you clamber onto his lap before his arms slinked around your waist like a sleepy boa constrictor; ensnared were you by all that the clown was, all that he had ever been and all that he would ever be.

“Someone’s sleepy, hm?”

You nodded, wanting to just... sink into royal purple and charcoal grey and to never again resurface. 

The heartbeat which pounded strongly in your ear was the lullaby which was sending you closer to a threshold consciousness, and you jolted upwards.

You had gotten so good at catching your own fall over the years.

J’s large, hot hand smoothed over the expanse of your back. He didn’t want to let you go, but he knew that you were close to giving in to your exhaustion and the dinner table was not the place for it.

“Here, Pat - let me do the dishes because you cooked.”

You made your way over to the sink with the dishes in your hands and once again did it seem as though Pat and J had a conversation over your shoulder, for the decision was not yours to make.

“A-ta-ta, no.” J seized the plates from you and dumped them in the sink. “Leave ‘em.”

You knew what J was trying to say: the dishes could wait. You, J’s greatest priority alongside Pat, couldn’t.

“Don’t be shocked, but - “ Pat wrapped an arm around you and tugged you into his side, “I’m with J on this one. Dishes can wait.”

Your eyes turned from one chocolate gaze to the other as exhaustion truly swept you up into its current.

Only Pat’s hold on you prevented you from being carried away by it and all you could say was, “cuddle pile?”

Pat’s grin made your heart drop to your stomach and J’s smirk made it melt.

HL OT3: @tsukiakarinobara    @1-800-dead-inside  @antonija89  @hotpacino @call-me-harley-quinn @devilshyenaaa

[hhoneyribbons]

Would you write again? I really wanna see it 🥺 A multi characters headcanons for Patrick, William and Casanova kissing reader 🥰 (some neck kisses too if you want 👀)

Williamcasanova 

How the heaths would kiss you / where they like to kiss you

Ahh yay!! Thank you so much for the request I’m still new at doing headcannons but I hope you like it and it pleases ur request sorry if it’s a bit long I had a LOT of fun but yep enjoy, luv y’a . Also if you wanted the three you requested with the reader just let me know and I’ll do that as well <3

ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ ° 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ ° 𐐪𐑂 ₒₒ ˚ ° 𐐒𐐚 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ °

Patrick Verona

-on ur cheeks, a whole lot, and I mean a lot and uses kisses as a show of love always just abruptly kissing you in a fight or when ur rambling

-" How is that even fair Patrick !! you cant just do whatever you- hmm~ " you ramble and hum out as Patrick shuts you up with a kiss and an " oh but I just did girlie " he'd grin and you'd stomp off only for him to follow and give more kisses

-ur favorite place to kiss him is his hand like while ur holding hands and you hold his hand to ur lips kissing them.

William thatcher

-on ur shoulders or collarbone, most of he loved just to kiss u but ur shoulders being bare would put the knight in a puddle.

-here you sat in the grass enjoying a break from the games William played to please his dreams, him next to you rubbing ur arms happy to see you in a sleeveless gown and placing his warm lips upon ur sunkissed skin " mm my flower ur skin is the best thing my lips have touched so far " he would be in actual bliss, you would roll ur eyes but smile " oh, William so easily falling ~ "

-ur favorite place to kiss him is his forehead you adore the way his soft blond hair tickles ur face making his giving you the most heart-warming smile

Casanova

-one word . n e c k, this playful mystery of a man loves kissing ur neck especially when ur in public loving when ur cheeks turn a rose color.

-you and casanova were walking through the ball with ur mask on and started to dance case all so loved to sway into the night with you, casanova pulls you closer by ur waist giving a wide grin and leans in his lips next to ur ear " darling ur quiet the dancer if I must say mm could barely notice ur feet stepping on my toes with the distraction of ur most wonderful breast" he would kiss below ur ear making a line over ur neck, you in complete shock with a " w-what! c-cassmm" and slap at his chest blushing.. you know where that took you all.

-ur favorite place to kiss casanova is his neck as well and lips, the thought of lips on boned and veiny necks makes you both melt .

Joker

-chest, basically.. boobies ( you asked for it you nasties jk ) he loves seeing his red lipstick stains on ur chest and neck its like branding for him

-you sat at your house waiting for the joker ur friend " ben" just left after you two played cards for almost 4 hours, it was smart to be at ur house no one would think the big bad joker would visit an unnoticed girl in some apartments. 3 more hours passed you were laying on the bed hugging j's pillow as the window balcony opened and the room was filled with a scent of gun powder . " ta-da !! I'm..well home " he knew you had a guy friend over and didn't like that one bit so he moved onto the bed and attacked ur chest and neck biting here and there branding his doll " mm think I wouldn't know? thought daddy was dumb tsk tsk wrong-oo~ " you whined and the night went on.

-ur favorite place to kiss joker are his scars on his lips of course he'll give a growl here and there but deep down he loves it madly .

Note:

Also these are just my opinion nothing set in stone just a reminder ;) thanks for reading !! and yes I had to add joker he’s NEEDED and loved … what can you do when you love a madman hm?

[lovelyledger]

Kissing Headcannons w/ Ledger!Characters

a/n: includes patrick verona, ledger!joker, william thatcher, skip engblom, and tony shepherd <3 + gender neutral reader!!

warnings: mentions of kissing + mild nsfw themes (18+)

Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You)

If you had to narrow Patrick’s kisses down to one word it would be tender. The man kisses you with so much love and compassion that you swear all the blood in your body turns into sugar from how sweet he is. One quick peck and your entire body tingles. Tiny little fireworks exploding inside of you and rattling your bones. On the flip side, your skin bursts into flames when he presses his lips against that certain spot on your neck. He always chuckles at your tiny huff when ever he does kiss you there. You swear he’s pure magic.

Sneaky kisses are one of Pat’s top secret skills. Out and about in public with him but you’re both needy? No worries. He’ll pull you into an empty hallway or vacant room, out of sight from wandering eyes, and give you all the kisses you need right then and there.

He also enjoys giving you forehead kisses at any time of day. He’ll run his fingers through your hair and press his lips on the center of your forehead. It makes your knees weak and heart grow a million sizes. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life.

Ledger!Joker (The Dark Knight)

J’s kisses are all-consuming. He surrounds your senses like a cloud of black smog hung high over Gotham’s skyline. It’s intense and sharp in a good way. Your first kiss with him isn’t exactly romantic as it was messy, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Purple leather gloves gripping the back of your neck, stealing all the breath from your lungs. Holding onto his wool trench coat for dear life. Greasepaint staining your skin, a semi-permanent reminder that you’re his.

And of course, his scars. They’re intriguing when you see them for the first time. But when kissing him, it isn’t what you expected at all. You thought they were going to be uncomfortable and scratchy against your skin because they were jagged and healed so roughly. Oh, how you were wrong. They add a unique quality to J’s kisses. They do not hurt you in the slightest. In fact, they are very plush. It’s beautiful, something terribly tragic blooming into something passionate.

J is quite handsy with you. Of course with this comes a lot of biting and nipping at your neck. He loves leaving deep, angry bruises all over as another reminder that he’s the only one who makes you feel the ways that you do. You can never resist him and his touch. Though, you would never tell him that. He already knows it through the way you kiss him.

William Thatcher (A Knight’s Tale)

Oh my goodness, precious William. He surprises you. At first, his kisses were reserved and shy. Whispering against your lips and tentatively asking you questions: “Was that okay?” or “What else would you like?”. It’s incredibly endearing. You later learn it’s because he has not kissed many people before, which makes your stomach flutter with millions of butterflies. As strong as he may be and as much energy he gives away in different jousting arenas, he’ll always be your innocent knight in shining armor.

One thing that you come to find out about Will as your relationship progresses is that he absolutely loves hearing the noises you make when you kiss. He cannot get enough of you. To him, you’re the most powerful drug in the entire universe. Hearing you whine out his name, breathing and sighing deeply for him… It spurs him into a frenzy. You both know that those special noises are for his ears only. Simply put, his kisses make you feel completely whole.

And it’s no surprise that Will is a romantic. He brings you as his date to every ball he can physically attend. He’s so giddy and loves dancing (and drinking lots of wine & food) with you. Hand kisses are exchanged all night, of course. His soft lips pressed gently against the top of your hand which makes you (and him) turn bright red. It’s a simple gesture, but you can’t help to adore his tiny displays of affection.

Skip Engblom (Lords of Dogtown)

Oh, Skip. Skip’s kisses are pure understanding. When you kiss each other, you’re on the exact same page. Hell, you’re on the same line of the exact same book. You’re just two puzzle pieces meant to be together.

Your first kiss though, you’ll never forget. You worked night shifts here and there at the Zephyr Surf Shop for Skip. You two have known each other for years. He’s always appreciated your time and company. Giving an extra hand if he’s running behind on orders doesn’t even feel like working for him. It’s just you & an old friend who you happened to have a big crush on. It’s no big deal, right?

After finishing up late one night, Skip wanted to walk you out to your car: “Listen, Y/N, it isn’t safe in Dogtown at this time of night. Let me walk you out to your car.” You didn’t argue because you knew he was right, even if you were parked just outside the front doors. Warmth spread through your belly as he stood right beside you, protecting you the whole way.

Skip started to express his gratitude (and how guilty he felt because he wasn’t paying you) when you had cut him off: “No, no, Skip. I’ll always help out anytime, free of charge. Anything for you. I mean it.” You reached out to run your hand down his arm. His eyes flickered down as if your hand had dragged bright green paint across his exposed skin. A breath got caught in your throat and your wide eyes suddenly connect with his.

And in that moment, everything slotted into place. A million emotions were rushing in your brain as you kissed each other against the driver’s side window of your car, but the one word short-circuiting in your brain was: Home. Skip was your home.

No matter where you happen to be sleeping that night, Skip always manages to wake you up in the morning by gently pressing his lips to your neck. He watches you stir, eyes fluttering. He’s as warm as early sunshine spilling through open windows and you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Tony Shepherd (The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus)

Ever since the complete disaster Anton caused a week ago that resulted in the Parnassus trailer, aka. your home getting basically destroyed, everything has gone to shit. Well… not everything. There’s Tony. Where do you even begin with life before Tony?

You can’t really recall exactly how or when you joined the Imaginarium team, but you had proved your potential to everyone right away. You drew spectators in and let the others talents shine. It all felt so… natural. You fit in perfectly with this family of misfits.

Then comes Tony. Your whole world was turned upside down when you discovered the hanged man on the bridge. It was like a switch flipped on inside of you. Two bright lights connecting in a pitch black world.

Tony found you sitting on the stage of the trailer one night. That’s when you shared your first kiss. He knew you had been stressed about what was to come now that the only place to perform the show was shattered to bits: “Sweetheart, don’t worry I have a plan. It’s a bit of a change, but that never hurt anyone, did it?”. That’s the thing about Tony. He always seems to be five steps ahead of everyone else.

After chatting about the next course of action, you felt his hand travel from resting on your shoulder to stroking your cheek lovingly. The close heat of his hand reassuring you that it was going to be okay. That he was there for you. You felt your body being drawn in closer to his by some fateful force. His slow breath fanned against your cheek and shot sparks down your spine. His hand was still placed on your cheek, too afraid to make any sudden movements that could tear you away from him. From this moment. His lips finally connected with yours and you were breathless. All of the oxygen in the atmosphere was suddenly gone. All you felt was the warmth of him. The warmth of you two, together. Like dim streetlights reflecting on rain soaked sidewalks. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

You’ve come to learn that Tony’s mouth (and hands) tend to wander late at night. He can’t help it that your twin bed in this god forsaken trailer can’t comfortably house two full adults. You barely get enough rest as it is. So you resort to more intimate activities, hoping that sleep might come a little bit easier afterwards.

Knowing his kisses always leaves you wanting more, he happily obliges along to your all of your needs. He will always love touching you in the softest places overflowing with the deepest pleasure. Your breathy gasps as his mouth trails across your neck while his broad hands stroke your chest. Your whole body aches for him. Soon enough, his hands finally wander down, down, down…

“You know, love, we should have been doing this a lot sooner if we both couldn’t sleep.” “Oh, shut up.”

[rosesloveletters]

Gorgeous.

pairing: Heath Ledger Joker x Reader x Patrick Verona

word count: 6,984

warnings: smut, language, etc. 

summary: J, Patrick and Reader have a threesome. 

notes: I don’t know what went wrong in my mind to make me create this. Anyway, enjoy ;)

unedited.

The softness of your naked form was accentuated in the caramelizing glow that emanated from the lit candles. There was a melancholic nostalgiathat washed over you like the spray of hot water that cascaded down the backs of your shoulders as you closed the shower door behind you and stepped into the warm embrace. An oddly familiarfeeling, yet you were certain you had never felt anything like it before. You had freed yourself of the bodily confines that hid you, but never could you break the chains that linked you with your thoughts; the freedom to feelhad never felt so far out of reach.

Reaching arms accepted you in and your body became one with the other as you relinquished what fragments of control you were still in possession of to the souls which were bound with yours. You were pieced together, created out of the love you had cultivated and delicately tended like it were a rose garden; the beauty of that which you three werewas not rivaled by that of a single rose. Your love burst forth like a super bloom, overflowing in every direction until it seeped through the cracks in the façade each of you attempted to keep up. You could not hide from one another and no longer did you wish to. You had opened your heart to two others who had become as much a part of you as you were of them and the strongest forces in the universe could not have pulled you apart. You were one being, one soul, one heart; the familiarity was them.

A solid pressure reinforced the sentiment that you were notalone. The chasm in your chest, void of a heart when you were left all alone, was beginning to refill. Your body tingled from head to toe and you welcomed it; your hands found purchase with the body in front of you as you leaned more solidly into the one at your back. You were drenched in warmth, secured between two bodies of whom had longed for you like no other and now were you here, encased in them with no desire to be anywhere else.

At home were you here.

J rested against the shower wall, your body draped across the front of his own as Patrick held you from the front. Fully sandwiched between them, you were unable to move in either direction, but you were already closer to them than you could have gotten on your own. There were things not even youcould achieve by your lonesome and these two men had taught you that. A love that was true would never remain unchanged; it would change forms and manipulate itself until perhaps you would not recognize what was left from the very beginning. You did not see it now, yet it was there. Could one grow immune to such a love that one did not feel it as before?

‘Up’ was ‘down’. Nothing you tried had ever made sense before you had met Patrick or J, though it certainly made even lesssense now. Why could you not feel?

J’s hands rested against your thighs and massaged the slick skin while Patrick’s mouth laved at your collar bone. The two had given themselves to you many moons ago, but something had changed since then and the three of you were in dire need of reconnection in the final sense. The trio had been bonded, severed only by time, cruel in the disintegration of its most magnificentcreation.  The three of you were reclaiming what had once been yours; a difficult task was no match for the determination of a love which refusedto die.

No longer were any of you frightened of the possibilities. There were no more than three souls who alone mattered more than any one other might have before. A verbal affirmation was all that was necessary to make tonight happen; you would never again give in so easily.

This was something that the three of you had not yet experienced collectively and J wanted to be certain that his young lovers were both as comfortable as he was and therefore he remained on high alert for any indication of insecurity amongst you. He kneaded your silken thigh with one hand as he grabbed Pat by the wrist with his other. His fingers snaked across the younger man’s skin until they locked fingers, holding each other tight as both paid close attention to your body between them.

“Ya ready for this yet, kid?” J asked Patrick in a gentle tone as the younger nibbled at your neck.

Patrick nodded vehemently and he raised his head, “only if Y/N is.”

Showering together beforehand had been Patrick’s idea. He had been sure that the intimacy would benefit them in the grand scheme of things; J had concurred and his defenses lowered as Patrick lit several candles to set the mood and turned on the shower until the water became hot and steamy. It was a grand idea, J thought, and he had been right. The tension in your body had dissolved the moment you set foot beneath the hot water and you were nothing but fresh clay for the two men to mold as they pleased. Though it was not youthat J was concerned about the most: the older man was worried about Patrick.

Patrick was considerably skittish about sharing intimacy with J; he had not made love to a man before and the apprehension surrounding the act haunted him. He did not let himself give it too much thought. He had yet to take advantage of J’s willingness to take the lead and for a while he did not think he ever would. However, he and J had known each other for a long while and when he finally took a moment to consider things, he realized that this was the lengthiest relationship he had had without sex having factored in somehow. He felt guilty for having made J wait, even though the latter was nonchalant. J had accepted that Patrick would walk to the beat of his own drum; all good things come to those who wait.

“All-right,” J clicked his tongue with the weighted pronunciation of each pressing syllable, “as long as I have your, uh, consent.”

The young man wavered and J saw the calculation in his eyes as he weighed his options. The ideas were spinning in his mind and J knew the longer he hesitated, the more likely it became that Patrick might bail.

J released Patrick’s hand and lifted his chin, “S’alright, kid,” he mumbled encouragement as his lips descended over Pat’s and the younger of the two moaned hotly into J’s mouth, “take it easy.”

You whined piteously as you watched the two of them kiss; you were craving their attention and, though you did not want to diminish the importance of J focusing on Patrick, you needed them to know what you wanted.

J squeezed your hip and his hand dropped in between your legs and languidly stroked at your slick folds, parting them with the tip of his finger till it peeked inside of you. Your instinct was to clinch around the intrusion, but you shook off the initial reaction and forced yourself to relax; many a time had J or Patrick fingered you and you’d been familiarized with the deed.

“J!” you cried out his name despite him having done much to provoke it. You grinded against his hand, desiring him deeper, and his body pressed into your backside with a prominent rut.

Patrick’s hands fit onto your sides at your hips and he stroked you as J’s finger slid deeper into you. The two of them paid close attention to how your body reacted to them; Pat’s mind was brimming with ideas of how J might choose to prepare him and his stomach began to knot and twist. He could not imagine the way it might feel and he was not sure how inclined he was to find out. He suppressed the thought as he bent his head and nipped at the soft spot on your neck that he knew so well. You keened softly as you reached for him, hands splayed on his lower back and you gently massaged what skin was at your fingertips.

You felt every expulsion of air from J’s lungs as he breathed headily into your ear, “thaaat’s it, sweets,” he crooned, his hand moving expertly between your parted legs, “just a little more.”

Patrick’s belly bumped against yours at each breath either of you took. The young Aussie was holding back a heated moan as you caressed every muscle on his back. Patrick was touch-sensitive, much more so than J or even you; every kiss, lick, rub or stroke elicited some noise of approval from him.

He casually leaned into you the most he could while J prepared you, taking care to let his hands roam over your body as they may; Patrick never took more than he gave.

You whimpered at the loss as J extracted his fingers and Patrick fixed him with a hooded gaze as he resigned himself to the expectation that he would be next. J shook his head slowly and only opened his mouth out of pity at the confused look on Pat’s face, “I have something that’s a bit more, ah, tailored to a first-timer, kid.”

Patrick resisted the urge to press for a more specific answer. Normally he would have had no hesitation, but asking meant admission and he was clinging to the understanding that he could back out at any time as long as he had not said ‘yes’ yet. J would not continue if consent was not established, only Patrick hoped that could wait until the three of you had found your way to the bedroom.

Apprehension was radiating off of the younger male and J was not sure how to ease his worries. He was neglecting his own needs so that he could reassure you and Pat; this was a ‘first’ for the both of you as much as it was for him.

“The bed would be more comfortable,” Patrick suggested now, carefully dancing around the admission of wanting to pursue anything, but J was wiser. He responded with a curt nod and Pat quickly shut the water off. Before you had time to start shivering, Pat had grabbed a plush towel and was drying you off while J did the same for himself.

You were bewitched by their nude bodies and the domesticity with which they were on display for you; J was older than Patrick and his anatomy emulated that. The younger of the two males had gentler features, the hint youthful softness still adherent. He absently swept a hand through his tangle of dark curls and he looked almost ethereal. J, on the other hand, had a harsher, hardened exterior, but he was still pliable in certain aspects; with a face devoid of paint, the man called ‘Joker’ appeared as almost nothing out of the ordinary: a veteran who had suffered less during active combat than he had after.

You could not shatter the fragile silence with words; you granted them both your compliance with however they would choose this to happen. J would remain in control, ever the dominant one was he. He would coax Patrick into trusting him and you would follow suit, any way that the two should need. You wanted their needs to be met as much as the made sure yours were each and every time you shared intimacy. This was a new experience for the three of you and therefore things were bound to happen differently than they might had you been alone with either of them. You had not engaged in a threesome with the two men before and the thought of doing so was a bit daunting. You knew that J would do all that he could to reassure you and Patrick; whether or not he had done this before with anyone else was unknown and neither of you expected him to volunteer that information. Much of J was undiscovered territory that he would not explain if you or Patrick asked him to.

J wrapped his towel loosely around his waist and exited the sultry room; droplets sprang from his split ends to his shoulders and left trails down his back. As Patrick finished drying you off, he draped your towel over your shoulders and set to drying himself off last. After he had finished (and vigorously scrubbed at his hair until his untamed curls were wilder than before) he blew out the candles and left the wax to cool and reharden. A thin line of smoke unfurled from each blown wick, similarly to Patrick’s cigarettes each time he lit one.

You let the Australian lead you out of the room, hand resting on the small of your back as you stepped inside of your bedroom where J was waiting patiently for his young lovers.

You were preparing yourself for the messiness, but J was one step ahead. He had lain several towels down across your clean bed linens in anticipation of the more unsanitary elements. He stepped away from the bed as you and Patrick entered and gestured for the pair of you to seat yourselves. You hastened to follow instruction and clambered onto the mattress, followed closely by Patrick. With focus centralized on J, the older man spoke to you, “this is gonna be...differentthan a one-on-one session,” he began openly, “I won’t be too hard on either of ya, but consent is necessaryfrom both you, doll, and the kid. Otherwise, I’m walkin’ away right here and now and we’ll revisit this some other time. We should, ah, also have a safe word.”

“I consent,” you agreed to the terms, “and I think our safe word should be ‘Red’. If we want you to stop altogether, we say the word ‘Red’, but if we need for you to slow down for any reason, then we can use the word ‘Yellow’ and you’ll let us have a moment to regroup. How’s that?”

Both you and J looked to Patrick who had remained silent throughout the exchange thus far. As he determined you were awaiting a response from him, he lurched, “uh…that’s f-fine with me,” his voice deepened huskily and he cleared his throat, “that works.”

“Patrick,” J’s usage of Pat’s full name got his attention, “if ya aren’t ready, tell me now.”

Patrick’s hesitation almost made J abandon his efforts, but at last, the younger relented, “I’m ready,” he voiced his assent stubbornly and at that moment J was aware he was extracting Patrick’s sharp-edged persona. The younger male was naturally affectionate, loving and gentle, but those who found themselves outside of his inner circle were shown the other side of Patrick; his rebel persona was what saw him through high school and after, when acquaintances he did not wish to deal with would surface unannounced and he had to scare them off or play victim to their advances, which Patrick Verona would neverdo. His vicious quips were no match for J’s wicked tongue, but tonight the older man would play along. He did not want to intimidate his timid lover.

In the bedside table drawer, J retrieved your usual bottle of lube; it had never been used for anything of this nature before, “Alright, kiddo,” J uncapped the bottle, “best to, uh, position yourself so I can reach your backside.”

You watched with curiosity as Patrick unwrapped his towel and turned, lying prone on the mattress and exposing his backside to J who approached him slowly.

“What’s that for?” Patrick asked as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes locked on J’s hands as the older male busied himself with squirting some of the lube onto his fingers.

“For you,” J explained as he neared Patrick, “gotta get ya…preppedand readyfor me.”

“Woah woah woah!” Patrick lurched upright and turned so that his rear was out of range of being touched or…worse, in his opinion, “you didn’t tellme-”

“Gotta prep ya, kid,” J growled, less as a threat and more as an explanation, “or else you’re gonna be a lotmore pissedat me than ya are right now. I don’t wantto hurtya.”

“It’s alright, Patrick,” you attempted to soothe your frightened partner, nuzzling his neck and swiftly laying some kisses on his dewy skin. He moaned involuntarily and his arms encircled you, “J has to do this if you want to continue. Don’t you trust him?”

Trust was the foundation of the relationship you had built together; the success of what the three of you had could never have been achieved without it and you had to remind Patrick of that carefully-structured pillar of understanding. The trust the three of you had put in each other had to be enough and you would help Patrick accept that he simply had to trustthat J would keep him safe.

“I won’thurt ya,” J reiterated, “lay down for me like ya were before.”

A couple more kisses placed strategically on Patrick’s neck had the younger man scrambling into position once more. You gently swept your fingers through the silken curls at the nape of Pat’s neck as J parted his cheeks and squirted a generous amount of lube in between. Patrick shuddered at the cold gel and he quickly tensed up as J’s bare hand made contact with his sensitive skin.

“Ah-ta-ta,” J tutted and gave Patrick’s behind a gentle smack, “don’ttense up.”

Your hands flitted from the back of Patrick’s neck to his shoulders and then halfway down his spine, “it’s alright Pat-Pat,” you told him, “just relax and J will take care of everything.”

Patrick grunted and did not respond otherwise to which J leaned in close and growled viciously in Pat’s ear, “I’m gonna need a verbalresponse, lit-tle brat.”

The stubborn young Aussie gritted out, “I’ll do my best,” and J was satisfied.

J’s thick digits danced over Patrick’s puckered hole and he quivered; he had never felt more vulnerable or humiliated in his entire life. Your hands felt nice on his skin and he refocused himself on the way you were touching him so reverently and with so much love. He ached for you, feeling himself growing hard with arousal just from the thought of having you and how sweetly your hands caressed his body. He was caught unprepared as J’s index finger breached the ring of muscle and he growled in slight pain, “it hurts, whatever you’re doing.”

J hummed as he tried to remain in control of himself and his choice of words, “don’t, ah, tighten upso much and it won’t.”

Despite himself, Patrick attempted to listen and do as instructed, if only so that the pain might subside. He relaxed his muscles to the best of his ability as J went on preparing him. He was troubled, you could tell, and your hands went back to work loosening his muscles even more. You could have sworn you felt the slightest trembling beneath your fingertips as you worked against a knot, but you decided not to call attention to it.

The longer J continued, the more Patrick relaxed until the pain had entirely subsided and warmth spread inside of him; the way that J’s fingers curled with every trained thrust sent a pleasing shock of sensation through him from head to toe.  He was almost saddened whenever J removed his fingers and left him empty and in need.

Patrick’s lust-clouded mind barely registered J’s departure as the older man reentered the bathroom to wash his hands. Perhaps he would not have had the presence of mind to take sanitary precautions, but he did not want to disgust his partner with the necessary mechanics and so he took extra care to be as discreet with the gruesome details as possible.

While J washed up, you aided Patrick to roll onto his back and he grinned up at you, “C’mere, love,” he beckoned and you leaned over him so that he could kiss you, firm lips moving fluidly against yours until he reached for your cheek, deepening the kiss as he poured all that he had into it.  

It wasn’t enough. Patrick cradled your elbow in the palm of his hand, urging you forward until you took the hint and slid around him until you were able to lie on top of his body. Your towel had come loose and you went to grab at it, but Patrick was faster as he swiftly tugged at the edge until you were fully exposed.

Your instinct was to cover yourself, but Patrick held your arms at your sides and leaned closer, the tip of his nose grazing your cheekbone, “gorgeous,” he mumbled, his tone deep and accent rich and velvety with arousal. His voice was rugged terrain, the road not taken and still it felt as familiar as if you had heard it a thousand different ways.

You kissed him solidly, swallowing any further sounds he would make; you pressed your body into his and maintained a steady rut, grinding harshly against his thigh to make him feel your wetness. Patrick moaned against your lips and while his mouth was open, your tongue darted inside to taste him. His mouth was sweet like candy, with a vaguely peculiar undertone of apples. The gentle Aussie let you take the lead with no objection; when you pulled away, he was panting harshly, sweat soaking his temples and the hair at the back of his neck.

J had come back into the room, on high alert now that the three of you were each prepared for what should happen next. While he watched you and Patrick interact, he checked the windows to make certain they were closed tight and then bolted your bedroom door shut. J always had to remain one step ahead of the unexpected and he relied heavily on instinctive self-preservation. Once he had reassured himself that no one could get to you, he joined the pair of you on the bed and his hand drifted lazily to Pat’s leg. He rubbed the appendage tenderly and marveled at the bumps that rose on Pat’s skin at the touch; the younger male was so sensitive, J knew, but he hadn’t expected this.

J watched the two of you in silence. It was his understanding that you and Patrick wanted to go first and he respected your decision and would wait. It was important to him that Patrick remain in control, or least let him thinkso. J was in control at all times; if he wanted Patrick or you to think a certain way, he could manipulate the situation at will.

You repositioned yourself on top of Patrick until you felt his hard cock slide in between your legs. You flinched and Patrick stifled a gasp; the pair of you were so close and yet still so farfrom each other. His skin was hot to the touch, a fire was raging through his body and scorching him from the inside out. He felt as if he were paralyzed and all he could do was lie there and wait. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, watching himself from afar and was unable to interfere. His thoughts were traveling faster than his body would allow him to move and he was relying on you to help him. Your hands reached out through the fog in his mind and grasped him, pulled him back to you and held him grounded in your presence. He felt more out of breath with every inhale; his heartbeat quickened as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

All of a sudden, he was all too aware of J who was sitting beside him, hand still resting on his thigh as you began to move against each roll of Pat’s hips. Patrick had not considered J an intrusion to your privacy; the two lovedeach other. J had never spoken the words, but the implication was clear. Patrick had stubbornly avoided his feelings for as long as was plausible. Eventually he would have to give in and time was running out. He had to come to terms with how he felt, somehow, and despite the nerves that kept him on his toes and ready to bolt at any second, this was important.

J meant as much to him as you did.

Your senses were overwhelmed with Patrick’s uneasiness and you tried to tell yourself that this was a very necessary part of what the two of you were experiencing. You were witnessing the bonding of two souls on the very same level that yours was already bonded with the two men. Patrick and J had yet to give a part of themselves to each other and you were the solidification of the coupling of their souls.

You took Patrick by the hand as you held a steady pace, rolling your hips against his as he met you thrust for thrust. One soul were you now, held together only by the closeness of your bodies and your love, a love which had been tended and matured, blossoming into new seasons even more robust than that of before. A love this strong could survive the frost; fearful were you notof what you had long since believed was dead. Roses will die when the winter came, but when the days grew longer with the seasons’ change, they would bloom again as they did before. Your love was comparable to that of a rose; if you ever thought that the love had vanished, it too would grow back, ever stronger than you had known it before.

Patrick moaned sweetly as you rode him, body coupling fluidly with his own as the pair of you bucked against each other, pushingyourselves closer to the other, needingthat closeness like you’ve never needed another. His large hands guided you, easing you onto him until he was fully sheathed inside your tight heat. Your soft whimpers full of desire drove him on, encouraging him to move faster, harder, more determination behind every thrust as he inched closer and closer to release.

J remained impassive as he watched the two of you, hand still resting against Patrick’s thigh. He had witnessed many things in his life, yet never something in which he found himself so invested. J liked to pretend; life was one riddle after another and J took pleasure in attempting to solve it. He had once believed he knew the greatest secret: there was no real, rawemotion behind it all. It was all a clever distraction from what was. He believed he was further ahead because of his apathy and because he understood what most did not, he was no match for the lesser ones. He did not count on what might change all of that or if anything ever would. He had grown complacent and had tripped over his own two feet into a relationshipwith two others; if he had not known better, he would have admitted to having felt something.  

J knew better, but he still feltit.

He felt it clutching at his heart and it left a bad taste in his mouth but he swallowed back the bile. This was not the time for resentfulness. He kept his hand firmly on Patrick’s thigh as the youth moaned wantonly, eyes shut tight and sweat beading deliciously on his furrowed brow.

Pat was gorgeous.

J had never stopped to consider it, not until now; the thought had never crossed his mind. He did not understand when the attachment had developed, or why, or how, only that it hadagainst his will become the center of his attention and the focal point around which all else converged. He squeezed the Aussie’s thigh and felt him tense beneath his callused pads, hips twitching as Pat neared his breaking point and his resolve began to crumble.

You bent closer to Patrick and kissed him heatedly as you felt him throbwithin you.

“Hold that thought, kid,” J quipped, “I think it’s, ah…my turn.”

Patrick’s eyes were glassy as he peered up at J; his face was flushed and his chest heavedfrom exertion. He did not appreciate being interrupted so near to the end and he would have responded snappily had he been able to control his voice. He was not in control of his body, and as you pressed closer, shifting on top of him so much that he felt himself slide in deeper, he groaned with frustration and dug his nails into your hips, “not yet.”

J raised an eyebrow, “I know ya ain’t in your right mind, but I suggest you take a hintand listen.”

Your soft whimpers reminded J that Patrick was only halfof the equation and he bent over you, lips attaching to your neck as he tasted your sweat-slick flesh. You cried out as he bit into you and you rolled off of Pat to detach him, “J!”

“I know, I know, I’m a buzz kill. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about ya. But you two were, ah, havin’ a little too much funwithout me.” J gave Patrick a gentle shove and the Aussie grunted; J chuckled to himself as he helped Patrick reposition himself, “better have ya on your hands and knees, kiddo.”

Patrick bit back a retort as he got to his hands and knees as J guided his hips backward. J’s hands left him and he glanced behind himself just as J had reached for a condom inside the open nightstand drawer. A spine-chilling shudder ran through him and he looked away quickly as J rolled on the condom. He was unable to suppress the feeling of awkward vulnerability and he fidgeted as J got into position behind him, knees bent to support his weight and gave himself several tugs for good measure as he lined himself up with Pat’s hole.

You had crawled underneath of Patrick to distract your lover from what was happening. He was nervous and though he stubbornly declined to voice it, you and J knew. You tenderly kissed his lips and through one single touch you could feel him shaking, hands clenching the towels beneath your bodies in a white-knuckle grip. Silently did your expression ask him if he was alright and only did Pat respond back to you with a look; he was all right, only because he trusted the both of you to keep him safe and give him the love he had always wanted and been too afraid to ask for.

Patrick kept to himself not because he wantedto, but because it was the only way he could protect his heart. He could project himself as the person he had always wanted to be, but taking one’s own advice was easier said than done. He never found it within himself to want to understand why anyone could be so vulnerable with others only to have their hearts shattered or worse. Those who knew Patrick Verona passed judgement upon him before they ever got to know him and he did not care, for one reason or another. Their shallow opinions did not matter now; they never had. The only thing of any importance to him were the two of you and he knewhe deserved exactly what he wanted.

J eased himself inside of Patrick inch by deliciously slow inch and Patrick’s grip on the towels under him tightened as he reminded himself notto tense up. J had warned him against doing so and he kept the thought on a continuous loop inside of his head. He did not want this to hurt any more than what was unavoidable; he bit his lip to stifle any sounds which might escape him as he tried to keep as quiet as he could. He was holding his breath until J was fully inside him and then he exhaled, barely able to keep his mouth closed from telling J it was too much and he couldn’t handle it. He could handle it, invariably there was not much that life could throw at him that Patrick could not manage.

“How are ya holdin’ up there, kid?” J asked him. He had already begun to slide back out, only to guide himself inside again, building a slow rhythm until Patrick was fully acclimated to the new sensation. He did not want him to bite off more than he could chew; Patrick’s stubborn determination to succeed and to overachievein this situation made J wary of how he would react if he pushed him too far too fast.

“Fine,” Patrick grunted. He was uncertain how to respond and his body seemed to have a mind of its own as his reddened cock bobbed against his belly with every thrust from J; he was surprised as his hips jutted back, gently easing into J’s as their bodies met and converged. He was getting the hang of things, it seemed, but this was all new to him and J made certain to adjust himself accordingly and keep a watchful eye out for any sudden changes. He trusted that Pat would alert him if anything were wrong and he tried to enjoy himself, allowing pleasure to override his senses just enough to rely on basic carnal instinct.

He growled softly as his fingernails cut distinct halfmoons into Patrick’s dark toned skin. The Aussie hissed and bucked against J, forcing the older man to take him deeper. J’s pace was growing rapidly by the second and Patrick took all that J had to offer without complaint. He was as certain of this as he had been the first time with you; nothing could alter his state of mind. Vulnerability, insecurity and fearwere only inescapable if one did not recognize that such emotions were confines one puts on their own mind. Without them holding him back, Patrick was undaunted by the knowledge that he was no longer on his own, living in his own world dictated by the constraints he kept on himself from such a young age.

His thoughts were unobstructed and he was free to act clearly as if the fog had finally cleared and he could see milesahead of whence he had come. He could see through the haze that he was experiencing a level of trust he had shared with no other and no other that came after would he ever attain such again. Patrick was still young and he had yet to experience much of what life had yet to give him, but he had all that he ever could have asked for. He wanted nothing more than the love of you and of J, the two souls who meant much more to him than hemeant to himself.

All of a sudden, his thought process was interrupted and sensation explodedbehind his eyes as Patrick’s knees threatened to buckle; white-hot lightningcrackled down the length of his spine to his tailbone, “what the fuckwas that?”

J chuckled inwardly to himself as he swiveled his hips, attempting to hit that sweet spot within his younger lover. His rhythm had begun to falter, a tell that he was close, and he bucked harder against Patrick as the younger moaned heavily.

You reached up and brushed a stray curl out of the way of Patrick’s lips and you kissed him hard, one hand drifting lazily between your legs as you fondled yourself to the sounds they were making for each other and for you. Pat’s lips descended over yours in a flurry and he moaned into your mouth. He felt like he was about to burst at any second and you did all that you could to help him get there.

J thrust into Patrick would reckless, brutal abandon and it was a wonder that the younger man could take it, but as you swallowed up more and more of his sensually charged moans, the whole of it did not surprise you. They had both been ready for this for a long time, only had they waited long enough to be certainthe time was right. It had been in front of them the whole time; Patrick lovedJ. he loved him as much as he loved you and vice versa. They both had different ways of showing their love but that did not make any difference to either men. They carried on with what felt right until the pieces fell into place. Commitment was a small price to pay for happiness and J and Pat were as committed to each other as they were to themselves and that simple notion took more maturity than most ever had known all their lives. For two young men, they had wisdom beyond their years; you loved that about them, then again, there were many reasons for which you loved.

At this moment, they belonged to each other as much as they belonged to you or to themselves. They were lovers. They were one soul, one whole. They were home.

The younger could hold off no longer; with a cry of desperation did Patrick finally peak, reaching the pinnacle of ecstasy as he ejaculated onto your stomach as you lay sprawled beneath him. Waves of pleasure washed over him, accompanied by rope after rope of hot, sticky cum. His hips twitched and spasmed as he came undone at J’s will, giving the older man what he wanted. When Pat had finished, J still had not, nor was he quite done with the younger male; J’s hand milked Pat for all he had left. His hand squeezed and pulled in tandem until the evidently satiated Aussie gave a little cry and one final thick spurt of cum was expelled from the tip of his cock.

After several, brutal thrusts, J was coming, growling his release into the back of Pat’s neck as teeth clamped down on olive skin and Patrick roared his outrage, “fuck!”

You had only begun to touch yourself to them as you looked on, entirely enthralled by their tryst, and as Patrick dropped unceremoniously onto the unoccupied portion of the bed, J got to his hands and knees, his arms linked under the backs of your knees and dragged you towards him; he devoured your heated core with his tongue, tasting your sweet juices as your walls convulsed and twitched around the intrusion.

You cried out for him and J chortled against you, his tongue flicking your clit as he squeezed your legs and groaned with satisfaction; you tasted delicious and he could not get enough of you, if only could he remain like this with you until the day’s end.

His mouth proved to be too much for you and you came quickly on his tongue. J lapped up your cum eagerly and pulled off, a crude line of saliva connecting his mouth with your sex until he wiped it away.

You reached for him, but you were denied by the towel he draped across you as he cleaned Patrick’s cum off your skin. You felt exhausted and wanted your J, but let him go about the process as he cleaned you off and gathered the other towels that were rumpled in your bed linens to protect them from any unwanted stains. Patrick was lying on one of them and as J attempted to yank it from under him, Pat grunted and barely was able to lift his hips off the mattress enough for J to get to the towel.

As J threw the towels into the wash, you climbed beneath the sheets, a cold contrast against your sweaty body; another shower was in your future, but you did not mind. You smiled at the prospect of your loves joining you under the warm shower spray once more, the inviting warmth a beckoning call to your aching body. Your body throbbed with fulfillment as you snuggled in tight against Patrick’s solid back, the muscles flexing and tightening as he felt you against him in his half-wakeful state.

You moaned tiredly as you cast your leg up over Patrick’s hip and his response was a tired moan of his own, his body relaxing into yours as you tried desperately to find yourself connected with him once more. You found yourself needinghim, wanting him closer than you ever had before your sniffling whimpers drew him out of his reverie; he turned in your arms until you were face to face and he tentatively kissed your swollen lips from how many kisses had you been already afforded.

“Patrick…” you mumbled his name and he quieted you with another kiss, tender and gentle as ever, “I love you.”

“Love you too, girlie,” his arms encased you within his warmth and you felt secure, eyes slipping closed until you felt the bed dip beneath a weight unknown to you for the one whom it belonged to was out of your line of vision. Quickly did it register that J had taken up his place at your back; his reaching arms found purchase wrapped around your body.

Perhaps you were not meant to notice J’s hand that reached for Pat’s beneath the veil of blankets, but you did. You saw all that you might not have been meant to see, for it was written upon their faces and captured in their eyes. The way that J loved Patrick was not far from the way in which he loved you; they were eternally bonded, forged in the unbreakable trust that tied their hearts together as one.

There would always be that which connected you and you would have it no other way.

[vhsmitchell]

forever missing you </3

[thehclfbloodprince]

I’m working on requests and I’m excited about getting them finished and posted! Please send in more as well

[90sheathlover]

Patrick Verona Imagine

Imagine Patrick seeing you in your prom dress for the first time.

[ahsxual]

MASTERLIST

× Requests: OPEN

< Please Support Me on Ko-Fi >

¬ Smut: ✯

¬ Requests: ✪

¬ Personal Fics: ♡

Arthur Fleck 🎭

Reassurance

Beach Dream

I Know She is Real

Perfect Day

My Caregiver ✪

Warm me up ✪

My Personal Teddy Bear ✪

Patrick Verona

Fun Ride

Romantic Anniversary

Drum Lover

Ledger!Joker 🃏

Sassy Girl ✯

Unbreakable Connection ✪

Dangerous Love

Mask Off ✪

Innate Talent ✪

My Savior ✪

My Little Chaos ✪

Forgive Me ✪

My Nurse ✪

Purple And Green Desire ✪ ✯

Weirdo Beloved ✪

Lesbian!Reader loses her virginity to her crush and tells J ✪

Jake Gyllenhaal

Save Me - David Loki

Sunday mornings with Jake ✪

Jake with a short s/o ✪

NSFW alphabet - David Loki ✯

Love at first sight ✪

NSFW alphabet - Donnie Darko ✯

Revealing Night ♡

Donnie Darko - Reader who's a writer ✪

AHS - Evan Peters

Jimmy Darling Smut ✪✯

Let Me Take Care Of You - Kai Anderson Fluff

James March- Insecure Fem!Reader ✪✯

Soft Domestic Hcs - Kyle, Jimmy and Peter Maximoff ✪

Evan Peters fluff imagine ✪

NSFW Alphabet - Kai Anderson ✯

La Casa de Papel

Jealous Berlin ✪

Saw

Adam Stanheight - Prompts

Adam Stanheight - Prompts ✪

Mark Hoffman - Prompts ✪

Mark Hoffman - Prompts

Peter Strahm - Prompts

Squid Game

No, You're Not Ok - Cho Sang-woo ✪

Gi-Hun comforting you after a nightmare ✪

Gi-hun taking care of reader while she's on her period ✪

Be Quiet For Me - Seong Gi-Hun ✪✯

This Wasn't Supposed To Happen ✪

Sweet Proposal - Cho Sang-woo ✪

Matthew Lillard

Dark Sins - William Afton ✯

Dark Sins II - William Afton ✯

Dark Sins III - William Afton & Stu Matcher ✯

Birthday Girl - William Afton ✯

Don't Tell My Brother About Us - Stu Macher ✯✪

Surprise Baby - Stu Macher ✯✪

Dennis Rafkin x Insecure!Reader ✯✪

Tattoo Your Pleasure On Me - Stu Macher ✯✪

Dark Fear & Pleasure - Doug Van Housen ✯✪

Daddy's Comfort - William Afton ✯✪

First Time is the Sweetest - Stu Macher ✯✪

What Are They Like In Bed? - Matthew Lillard characters ✯

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Adrenaline

L!Joker/Patrick/Eric Draven/reader

Warnings: mentions of death

Note: this wasn't edited i just wrote it and bam posted. This was an idea given to me by @whoslaughingnow-comic while talking about Eric and my two other boys.

(Not my gif)

You had been dating Eric for about 2 years when he was brutality murdered in his apartment on Devil's night.

His death hit you like nothing else had. You felt terribly lonely and missed his loveing embrace. You had a few of his belongings which he had left in your appartment the night before; his guitar, a pic and one of his shirts.

In the weeks of his absence you had turned the pic into a necklace and wore it everywhere. Eventually it became apart of you, never taking it off.

As you tried to move on, you couldn't. Everywhere you went you were reminded of him. The old club you went to to see his band play, the coffee shop where you had your first date, the record shop where you met and eneded up going to every week.

Then there was your apartment. You had everything in boxes, seeing as you were to move in together that week. Too lazy were you to take everything out, yet it hurt to see the boxes piled high.

2 months went by when you decided to move to the other side of Gotham. A nicer area, a bit farther from the dangers of the mob. You eventually settled into the area falling into a routine, enjoying the local pub, going to cafe, and working at the record shop.

One night while you were at the pub you meet a young man named Patrick Verona. He wasn't hitting on you or trying to get your attention, no. He had asked you about the band on your shirt. The two of you talked for a while about music, movies and city life. Eventually he asked you to dance while Plainsong played in the background.

You couldn't help but smile as you danced with him. How could you not? He had the biggest smile you had ever seen!

As the night drew to a close Patrick insisted on walking you home, "It's the right thing to do." All along the way you didn't stop smiling, though in the back of your mind you worried if it was a trap. Ignoring that thought you enjoyed his company until you got to your apartment. That night you gave him your number and agreed to a first date.

As you entered your apartment smiling you frowned when you saw the gutar next to the sofa. "What would Eric think?" You wondered, "would he want me to move on?" That night for the first time in 5 months you desided not to sleep with his shirt. That night you desided to move on.

After sleeping over one night Patrick asked you about the necklace.

"Is it a lucky charm?"

"Yes...and no... It was given to me by somone I loved."

"I see," he smiled and kissed you. "Did they give you the guitar too?" You nodded.

As time went by you and Patrick were a happy couple. Though the guilt of Eric hit you at times; somtimes it was the guilt of hiding him from Patrick, other times it was the guilt you felt for loving Patrick. Those were the times you would take out his shirt and hold it tight. How it still meant so much to you with almost a year having gone by.

By the aniverseray of Eric's death, you still hadn't told Patrick about Eric. You decided that you would have them meet.

You were nervous about it. "What if Pat dosent understand...what if he gets upset." It was the day before your trip when you tell him. At first he's shocked and asks you why you hadn't told him. You explain that you were afraid he would leave you,that it would scare him away. As you told Patrick more, you can't help but cry. He held you close to him, as he rubbed your back. He had lost a few people close to him as well, but he couldn't imagine losing a partner. He could hear the love as you talked about Eric. Patric could also tell that you loved him the same way.

As you went to bed Patrick held you close to him and kissed your head.

The next day you both headed to the subway, making your way towards the east side of Gotham. Once you both arrived you showed Patrick around the area where you used to live. It was so strange being there with Patrick. You were over come with emotions as you passed the boarded up apartment building Eric used to live in. You held Patrick's hand as tightly as you could, holding back tears. Once you arrive at the graveyard, Patrick tells you to go in first and have a moment alone. Greatfully, you head towards his grave only to find an empty pit and a headstone with a crow sitting upon it.

Fearfully you call out to Patrick who comes running over to you. Both staring at the grave you both stand there dumb founded. All you can hear is the quiet echo of the city and the soft piter pater of rain.

A voice in a whisper breaks the silence. "Y/n?" You heard it and turned to see Eric. Seeing you move Patrick turns to see him. The three of you stand there staring at one another for what feels like an hour.

"E-eric? Your-your dead....ho-how...?" You say as you approach him, ever so slowly. "Y/n..." He said as he quickly aproached you huging you for the first time in a year. As he sees the tears in your eyes he wipes them away.

"I don't know what I am. All I know is that I'm back here." Is the response you receive from your previous question.

You slowly break away from the hug, sadly, as you look over to Patrick. "Th-This is Patrick. He's-he's my uh, boyfriend." Patrick nods shakily walking over to you. "Nice to uh, meet you mate." He says shaking his hand.

Eric lead you both to his apartment explaining what he knows. He wants revenge on those who killed him and tore him from his love. You gave a sad smile as you walked into the scorched apartment, seeing a few salvageable items.

You were quick to pick up a polaroid of the two of you cuddleing close. Patrick couldn't help but smile at it when he looked over your shoulder. Eric smiled as well, knowing which picture you were looking at.

You lead Patrick towards a singed black sofa and sat down listening to more of what Eric had to say. He had yet to meet a man by the name of Joker. A man who played by his own rules and was stealing money from the mob. A rumor was going around that he had offered to kill Batman for the mob.

Patrick frowned, he didn't like the idea of revenge, no matter how horrible those people were. Patrick didn't like how violent vigilantes could be, and by the sounds of it, Eric was rather violent. Especially as he heard the tale of how the gangster T-Bird died.

You on the other hand agreed. You felt that justice was finnaly being served. You were glad that your Eric was being a hero and helping to remove the scum of Gotham.

Slowly the conversation went from dark to light as Eric began to ask both of you questions. Eric had originally been taken aback when he saw Patrick with you, but was starting to warm up to him seeing that he truly did love you. As Eric asked more questions Patrick did too. Both men were curious of the other, and were quickly trusting one another.

It made you smile so brightly to see them getting to know one another without any sort of malice.

As night began to approach Patrick was the one who had to tell you that you needed to head home before it got too dark. When you began to protest Eric was quick to agree with Patrick telling you that it wouldn't be the last time you saw him. Despite how badly you wanted to stay, you began to follow Patrick out and started making your way home.

Halfway you began to notice a single black crow following the two of you. When you told Patrick he smiled telling you it must be a sign from Eric, to keep the two of you safe.

Later that night when you your arrived home you found a record from his band on the counter. Neither of you knew how it got there, but you were happy to have it.

After that day the two of you often found small presents from Eric. You also would receive random visits from Eric which slowly began to fall into a routine. Though his visits slowly became became longer and longer.

Eventually he started staying with the two of you. When he wasn't hunting out the evils of Gotham, he was sleeping on the sofa, often without either of you knowing.

When Patrick finds out he suggests that he alternates nights. At first Eric opposes this idea, not wanting to leave either of you unprotected. Though he ended up agreeing to alternate with Pat to sleep in bed. On the nights Pat slept on the sofa, Eric's crow would watch over him; allowing Eric to feel at ease with his decision.

One night you and Pat awoke to a loud thud. Thinking it was Eric coming home from his work, you told Patrick to go back to sleep, and you headed towards the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen you can't help but laugh at the color of his hair and coat. Unlike his ussual black attire he was wearing a purple trench coat and had his hair died green. At the sound of your laughter Eric stood up from the fridge abd as he turned you stoped laughing.

The man before you was not Eric, but rather a stranger. White, black, and red grease paint covered his face making him look even more menicing. Not to mention the feirce scars that created a permanent smile, did little to keep you calm.

"Boo." Was all he said to have you running and screaming for Patrick and Eric.

Eric arrived just in time to see you running into the bedroom and to hear the laughing in the kitchen. Eric steadily headed towards the kitchen. He frowned as he saw the clown before him.

"J..."

"Now I know why you said Boo!" J said in between bursts of laughter.

"I told you not to scare them."

Patrick of course hearing all the commotion, walked in with you trembling in his arms.

"Whose this? Howd-"

"This is the one I told you about. This is Joker. He's helping me with the mob."

Patrick looked up at him. "How? I heard he was robbing banks."

"Not just any banks, koala, but the mob's banks." Joker said as his laughing finnially died down. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." He said smiling like a toddler.

Eric gave you a hug. "He's all bark and no bite around us. He won't hurt you."

He had you and Patrick return to bed while he and J stayed up and talked about the mob.

By morning the Joker was gone and you hadn't seen him until the next week, when he jumped out from behind the door and scared you.

Though as time went by you slowly began to get used to his jump scares. His vists to your apartment slowly became more frequent. Patrick, who still felt rather uneasy around him, was beginning to become used to his presence. For Patrick the clown reminded him of a crazier version of Eric.

Eric and Patrick had become rather close in the last few months. Both of whom began to get used to the idea of napping together.

Soon J followed suit, squishing Eric in the middle of the sofa.

For you, those moments were sweet, when your boys were together peacefully. No worries. No fighting. No plans. Just peace amongst them. Somthing that neither of them tended to bring to the table.

Over this time, you too, began to have a closer bond with the crazed clown. He had even began to call you Bunny, thanks to your first encounter.

With his help though, you began to learn how to throw knives, shoot guns, and build a bomb (not that it was needed). On the other hand Patrick didn't quiet agree with J on these leasons, why should anyone know how to build a bomb. Often you and Eric would break up the bickering between the two.

As more time went by the four of you began to fall into a strange relationship. One that was rather unconventional. But then again none of you were conventional.

[ive-descovered-eric-and-pat]

I needed my koala today. I had a big panic attack. Im glady Pat was there for me <3 I love him so much.

[jokerssmileblr]

Masterlist

LEDGER!JOKER:

IMAGINES:

Break up with your girlfriend:

Burnt Dinner:

BLURBS:

SERIES:

PATRICK VERONA:

IMAGINES:

BLURBS:

SERIES:

WILLIAM THATCHER:

IMAGINES:

BLURBS:

SERIES:

[ajokeformur-ray]

I've seen your last post and now I'm too curious to not ask. (I hope you don't mind me asking these question)

What would Joker, Arthur or Patrick say if I say that I'm not worthy, after keeping my distance? That too much is wrong and problematic with me, that the effort to get to know me is too much in contrast to my boring personality. That there's nothing lovable within me, especially in relation to all my insecurities and loneliness.

Hello, my love!💜

I don’t mind you asking me these questions at all, especially because I asked for people to send me questions like this! Thank you so much for sending this in to me, darling, I really do enjoy answering these casual writing asks; it gives me a bit of a break from writing pieces but also means I get to write and it means that you lovely people receive more content and perhaps even some comfort!💙

I wasn’t sure which Joker you were referring to - TDK or 2019 - so I answered this for Arthur, J and Patrick. I figure Arthur’s Joker would react very similarly at any point of his arc because he’s the same man (in my opinion, others may disagree though and that’s okay!) I hope that you enjoy this!💗 I’m so sorry that you feel the ways that you’ve described, nonnie.😔 You deserve so much more than to feel this way. Just as you are in any given moment, you are worthy of and deserving of love and of getting to know. You deserve the world, darling, and I hope that the following offers you some support and comfort!💖🤗

If you would like to talk about this some more or if there’s anything more I can do for you then please let me know, angel!😊💝

What would Joker, Arthur or Patrick say if I say that I'm not worthy, after keeping my distance? That too much is wrong and problematic with me, that the effort to get to know me is too much in contrast to my boring personality. That there's nothing lovable within me, especially in relation to all my insecurities and loneliness.

Individual word counts are attached to the scenarios but the word count for all 3 scenarios combined: 2, 105.

This little paragraph precedes the beginning of each scenario from this point. To avoid repetition I’ve only written it once and it is not included in the word counts: 

You let the words pour out. You tell him that there's too much wrong with you, that you have too many problems, and you're not worth getting to know... you tell him that you're unlovable. You say these things not as a thought, but as statements. You give him facts and there is no room for debate, no room for him to interject. Finally, though, finally, your words run dry and you can only wait for his reaction...

Arthur Fleck // word count: 705.

Arthur is silent for a few seconds, his nicotine stained fingers curling into fists, the material of his trousers bunched up beneath his grip. His nostrils flare minutely and you hold your breath. You can't - won't - apologise for telling him how you feel, because you know that Arthur wants to know everything which you want to share with him. He's grateful, you know, for your honesty, but you also know that right now, he's beating himself up. He's not loving you properly if you're having these thoughts, and he will do everything he can to comfort you and to soothe your insecurities, to be the man you need him to be, to be the one who will love you even harder for the fact that you don't - can't or won't is irrelevant, in his eyes - love yourself.

He inhales deeply and exhales shakily once, twice, thrice... and then when he speaks, his voice is that soft rasp which you know and love so well, though there is definitely tension in his voice. "Wh-why would you say that? Why are you saying those things?"

You shrug, your bravado gone now. You're just so tired of feeling like this. You're tired of beating yourself up over every little thing, for not being able to treat yourself the way that Arthur does. "It's just how I feel, honey. When I look at me, I don't understand how you can - " love me. You cut yourself off as your voice cracks, though you know that Arthur hears what you don't say.

Arthur will always hear you, whether you're screaming, whispering or remaining silent. Slowly do the pieces put themselves together in his mind. You had been distant for a while; you were always with him but you weren’t always with him. It was a subtle but important distinction; one which Arthur knew well. At first had he feared the worst, that you were breaking up with him, but now... oh, but now did he realise that he had been missing crucial pieces of the puzzle. 

He coos softly as you look away from him, finally unable to say anything more for there is nothing else to say. Arthur has brought you to the point where words run dry, as he so often does. Where usually would he verbalise his thoughts, now does he only wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into the side of his body the way one usually falls asleep; slowly and then all at once. Arthur is a man of action, he always has been, for he knows well that words can be spoken with little emotion behind them but actions, oh... his are practically screaming at you as he feathers kiss after kiss to the crown of your head, royalty are you.

"I love you, Y/N. You're the only one who's ever really been nice to me and you understand me on a level no one else does. You're not boring - don't you dare say that about my Y/N. You're perfect and I wouldn't want to share my life with anyone else." Arthur shifts in his seat so that he can face you, his legs turned towards you so that you know that you have his full attention. He presses a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead, as if he hopes for his kiss to seep into your skin and soothe your insecurities and raw wounds from the outside in. "You deserve to be loved, Y/N. Anyone who says otherwise has it all wrong," Arthur's dark brows crease, as if he can't even consider someone not loving you, his one and only.

"Thank you, angel." You give Arthur a smile, feeling somewhat better. His green eyes pierce your gaze and you know that Arthur knows you're still feeling iffy, but that's okay. Arthur will tell you his truth as many times as you ask him to. "I love you. So, so much."

Arthur coos again and kisses you soundly, wanting more than anything to show you that you're not alone in the ways that you feel. With time, patience and persistence, perhaps the two of you may learn to love yourselves through loving the other person.

Patrick Verona // word count: 924.

(A/N: @loveletterstoledger just recently wrote a piece in which Pat reacts to Y/N’s relationship insecurities (linked if you’re interested🤗💖) and so I’ve done my best to take on a different approach with this small piece. Any similarities are entirely coincidental but just in case, I’m crediting Rosie anyway (with permission💙)! Thanks, honeys!💗)

You and Patrick are sat outside in the garden when you tell him everything which is on your mind, and he is quiet... too quiet. You shift, uncomfortable in this thunderous silence, which may be dark and foreboding or merely contemplative... such is your anxiety that you cannot tell that which usually comes as naturally to you as breathing. Patrick reaches over with a hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, his thicker digits squeezing around your own, which shake slightly. You are barely holding it together. I'm here, Y/N.

Despite yourself and even with everything else which is going on, you can only smile as Pat communicates with you without saying anything at all, so emotionally intelligent is he. You have always marvelled at this aspect of him; for one so young, he is so knowing. With a twinge of your already tried heart do you know that it is because he has already suffered and gone through so much more than anyone his age should ever have to.

Pat is kind, warm and gentle because he has had to learn to be, and in his own strength and depth of character was your own enriched all the more for knowing him. Indeed, loving him came as naturally to you as breathing, and it was only in moments like this when it felt as though your soul could soar as Pat found you in that seemingly impenetrable darkness and brought you into his arms... back into the light.

You dare in this moment to look up at Pat and all you can see is a deep set frown on his face, his beautiful eyes with flecks of green in them watery and almost unfocused. His mind is clearly racing, trying to comprehend all of which has just spilled out of you like water from a running tap. As your eyes meet, Pat surges forwards, tugging you towards him too with the grip he already has on your hand, and you are pulled into Pat's broad, warm chest.

One arm is wrapped around your lower back, as far down as Pat can hold you without being indecent or too forward, so respectful is he, and the other hand rests on the back of your head, his fingers flexing in your hair. The movement reminds you of a cat when they knead a soft blanket and you smile. Only Pat can do this to you. He rests his chin on the crown of your head and breathes deeply, trying to keep himself under control. Sickness roils in his stomach; he hasn't been a very good boyfriend to you if these thoughts are plaguing you. But this isn’t about him - this is about you and Pat pushes his guilt down as best as he can, channelling it into helping you.

"Do you see yourself the way I do, Y/N?" Pat's voice is deep and it rumbles through his chest. You burrow tighter into him and snuggle into his hold, wanting everything which Pat is willing to give you and more, so needing are you of him and of his particular brand of comfort, which has always been and, time will show you, will always be your favourite. No one loves you in the way Pat does and you love him all the more for the way his heart commands his actions even with everything he's ever been through in his life.

You shake your head against Pat, knowing he'll feel the motion and understand everything you're not saying. He's incredibly intuitive and so wise and even in silence does he understand you perfectly. You are your own people but it's almost like Pat's emotions are mere echoes of your own, so emotionally intertwined are you.

"I just told you what I see, Pat, and I don't understand how you can love me, I - "

Pat cuts you off with a shake of his head, his dark curls brushing lightly against the tops of his shoulders, and shushes you quietly. "Stay with me, Y/N."

You puzzle for a moment over his intentions but then it occurs to you that Pat means here. In the moment. Pat can't take your insecurities away by way of reaching within you and scooping the tar out of your soul and brushing the ashes away from your cracked heart from all that you have ever been through. He cannot change your thought processes or prevent you from feeling as you do. He cannot put you back together (though there is nothing to be romanticised about falling apart) but he can love you every waking and sleeping moment, so thorough a lover is he.

"I would never want you to be anyone but yourself, Y/N. Everyone else is already taken and even if you can't see yourself, I see you and I love you all the more for it."

Pat felt inadequate; what more could he say? What could he do? He wanted nothing more than to soothe away your loneliness and your insecurities, but the only thing Pat could think of doing was simply to stay by your side, just as he had told you to stay beside him. He was so young but he lacked not the life experience required to so selflessly love another.

If loving you was the only thing Pat could do, then he would do it so well that you wouldn't know what else to do with yourself. Such was the depths of his heart, and such was the ethereal bond which existed between you. J // word count: 476. (J's is really short because his comfort style is short and to the point asdfghjkl ~ )

J had had no idea that you had been feeling so badly about yourself. He had known that you had bad days but never had J ever expected something like this to come spilling past your lips like a dam had been broken. So down were you, so lost in all that you were that J had never expected something like this to be on your mind. He thought not of things he had or hadn’t done or of things which he could have done differently. J only thought of you and as your eyes began to look at your feet, as if all the answers you wanted were there, he shook his head as if to dispel the dark thoughts and took a step forward.

“That’s, ah - a bad joke, doll.”

“Who said anything about joking?” You spoke bitterly, your thoughts like acid which had poisoned your self-perception and been so thorough in its job that now was your relationship, a secret and a sacred part of your life, being touched by it, too. J deserved better than you. Your relationship had never made any sense, you had always known that. What you had used to dream about did you now dread, and not even J was able to stop the onslaught of negativity now that it had its grips in you. Usually did you not speak to J like this but you were too far within yourself to be able to monitor the tone in which you spoke.

"Is this why you've been, ah - disappearin' when I come home, doll? Ya' think I don't want ya'?" J took a deep breath, steadying himself, trying to not show his anger too much. He knew not who or what had put these ideas into your head, but he was not happy and he didn't like it. Not. One. Bit. He tongued the scars on his inner cheek and stared at you, his dark gaze seeming to look into your very soul.

You nodded, finally unable to say anything more, and J made a contemplative noise, happy to be getting somewhere and knowing what you were saying but not understanding. He was with you, wasn't he? What further proof did you want or need that he wanted to get to know you and that he thought of you highly?

"Don't, ah - don't think like that, toots. Y're better than that, I know ya' are." J reached out to you and grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up into his lap and held you tightly. You were going nowhere until J felt like you knew that here, in his lap, was right where he wanted you to be. There was more he wanted to say, there was more he needed to say, but for right now you were going nowhere and neither was J.

AF/J  @nothingclown  @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill  @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @greghouse  @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger  @scaredclowncat @lilliryth @hotpacino  @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn  @cbloodmarch  @askmrfleck  @justacomedy @takemepedropascal

Ledger!Joker @anyatheladyclown   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable      @ledgerskitten   @germansarechill   @acw1   @harlequinautumn     @mermaleizroseglasses   @justawriterinprogress     @truthbehindthemysteries  @hotpacino  @call-me-harley-quinn   @mermaidpowers1  @scaredclowncat @jslittlebirdie   @ang3l-d0ll @sacredempressnatlyia

Patrick Verona  @itsthejoker @royaleclownx   @arianatheangelworld   @scaredclowncat    @hotpacino  @call-me-harley-quinn @mountainjiwish

[feral-trash-panda]

To all of the fanfic writers who introduced me to new kinks, thanks.

[lovelyledger]

Ledger!Characters + Being Tipsy

tw // alcohol mention

Characters included: Patrick Verona, TDK Joker, William Thatcher, Tony Shepherd, and Jacob Grimm

Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You)

Patrick is a casual drinker. He enjoys going to tiny, hidden bars around town to play pool and be in the company of other people his age. Or in most cases, people twice his age. He isn’t complaining though. He keeps to himself anyway. It is rare that he ever drinks too much. He is very self-aware of how much alcohol he can consume and almost never gets tipsy or drunk. Holding his liquor is not an issue unless it is one of those nights.

Those nights are either special occasions (like the incident that was your 21st birthday) or when his inhibitions just get the better of him. But don’t be fooled by his harsh exterior. It is a well known fact that when Patrick Verona crosses into tipsy territory, he becomes a great big cuddle monster. As much as he tries to hide it in the beginning, it is no use. The fluffy beast inside of him bursts out of the cage and hugs and hangs all over everyone who is in his general vicinity for the night.

You love it when you get to see this side of him. It is uncommon that Pat lets his guard fall down around others, let alone be tipsy in public. He has his arm around your waist for most of the night and sneaks quick kisses on your cheek here and there. You secretly think he likes being this flung open for the whole world to see. It’s freeing to feel that energy from him, even if it is such a rarity.

TDK Joker (The Dark Knight)

J doesn’t drink. He has other vices like smoking or tormenting the citizens of Gotham City every day of the week. You know his reasoning for never consuming alcohol. It is a simple ideology. He has more important things to do than sitting on his ass drinking alone or with others. It’s his worst nightmare and just not his vibe… 

Okay, he might have the occasional glass of wine or bourbon if you are around. Or if it has been a long day and he wants to share a drink with some of his goons after a successful mission. Or if he is stressed and needs a break from the constant rattling in his brain.

Unlike most humans, J is very unaware of his limits to different types of alcohol. He never drinks to the point of being drunk so his brain doesn’t retain the information from times previous. He remembers the broad strokes, but can never remember how much he can handle until it is far too late. 

It is actually kind of terrifying seeing the Clown Prince of Crime be so quiet and still. All of his manic energy dissipates and all that is left is a solid figure falling deeper into the rabbit hole to Wonderland. He prefers when his brain is on autopilot. It means that he can be reckless without having to consciously make certain choices. For you on the other hand, it is a nightmare.

J will try (key word: try) to pull off the most outlandish and ridiculous ideas in the entire universe because he is continuously scheming even when he is tipsy. One time in particular, he got up and started to build something in the middle of the warehouse with a bunch of empty cardboard boxes and duct tape. When you asked what the fuck he was doing all he mumbled back was what sounded like, “human go-kart track.”

Needless to say, he passed out on the floor mere moments after setting the entire thing up. All of that reckless energy burns out pretty quick.

William Thatcher (A Knight’s Tale)

I don’t think this comes as a surprise, but Will drinks often! Traveling town to town for tournaments gets exhausting and spending the end of your night at a local pub is one of Will’s favorite ways to unwind. Most of the time the whole crew joins him, but other times it might be half the group or just you and him.

Will knows his limits when it comes to holding his liquor, but he doesn’t mind getting a bit tipsy. If he has a ton of jousting matches in the morning he won’t go too hard, but if it is a clear schedule the next day – all bets are off. He loves spending time with his best mates and drinking is such a bonding experience for all of them. Lots of good memories are made in cozy corners of dimly lit bars.

When Will has indulged a bit too much, he cannot stop singing and dancing. It is like he becomes a one man show with how much he randomly bursts into song while throwing his signature cheesy grin at you. Even after you leave the pub he will wander into the street and swing his arms around and dance with the air around him. It is truly a sight to behold.

Getting him to calm down and go to sleep is a whole other ordeal though. Will gets so full of adrenaline and excitement and wants to go do a million things at once. The group takes turns corralling him and making empty promises for the next morning to get at least an hour of shut eye. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Tony Shepherd (The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus)

Tony is a kind of tipsy that switches drastically back and forth on a scale of secretiveness to the most annoyed human on the planet. He doesn’t like to admit it, but it is hard for him to gauge the line between buzzed and tipsy. It is a very easy space for him to get lost in. He doesn’t know where or when he started to drink after a certain point. That can be confusing, especially for someone who was found hanging on a bridge one night and is now performing in a cheap circus act. Then again, when hasn’t he found himself in a magnitude of mystery?

It starts slow. He will act all sly and silly for a couple of minutes and then his mood gets put off by an unknown force. Suddenly, he will get very annoyed with everyone and everything around him.

One time, he basically tried to choke out a lamp because, in Tony’s words, “It was lookin’ at me all smug. I do not appreciate that one bit, love.”

It is definitely a true rollercoaster of emotions. By the end of the night he drifts off to sleep, still clutching the bottle of tequila in his arms.

Jacob Grimm (The Brothers Grimm)

Jacob Grimm likes to believe that he is not a lightweight and is invincible to the effects of European beer. Unfortunately, that is not the case.

After a long, hard day at work in whatever village he and Will are in that week, Jake likes to indulge in a drink or two just as any normal person would. The difference here is three beers in, Jake becomes astronomically sloppy. He stumbles over his words and gets even more animated than he is when sober. You find it incredibly endearing, while others shuffle away in hopes to drown out his overly loud speaking voice.

Will becomes even more frustrated when Jake starts to reveal their true intentions to the other locals in the pub. He cannot keep a secret for the life of him when he is tipsy, basically borderline drunk. The alcohol lowers his common sense meter in his brain and you or Will have to step in before you get thrown out of the town and knocked on your asses all together.

Besides the few minor flaws Jake obtains when he is tipsy, he really loves live music and having fun with you. Dancing the night away on the highest cloud in the sky right next to the stars.