#roman sionis x

[yandere-wishes]

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

⭒⌒★ Yandere!DC Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎ Robin - Damian Wayne| سینه‌سرخ - دامیان وین

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

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

🦇 Batman - Bruce Wayne | بتمن - بروس وین

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

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

ᯓ★ Superman - Clark Kent | سوپرمن - کلارک کنت

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

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

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

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

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

𓂃✮ Superman - Jon Kent | سوپرمن - جان کنت

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⭑.ᐟ Respawn | احیا

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

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

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

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

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

☾⋆ Phantom-one | روح یک

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

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

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

@blacklunardice @princesstrunkz @mona1704 @testification

[nxtaliaistyping]

Batrogues | p links part two

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

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

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Riddler:

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

Secretly has a soft spot for bigger girls <3

He’s a classy guy, he loves lingerie

How he eats it after you stroke his ego

He likes you dripping and desperate for him

Honestly this is how I need him to fuck me

The Scarecrow:

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

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

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

You help him get to sleep

Likes making you ride him

This but he’s wearing the scarecrow mask

Catwoman:

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

Takes you to expensive hotels just the fuck you in them

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

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

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

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

The Mad Hatter:

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

Loves seeing you in such cute underwear

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

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

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

Though he likes when you take matters into your own hands

Deathstroke:

He owns plenty of handcuffs

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

Oh you’re wearing fishnets? Good luck

Where else should he cum, if not deep inside?

Yeah, he’s rough

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

Black Mask:

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

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

You still have to look pretty, even when being punished

After coming back from a meeting

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

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

Harley Quinn:

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

She’s a threesome kinda girl

She loves your tits

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

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

What happens when she invites you for a sleepover

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨

[acid-ixx]

(name) wayne, gagged and tied to a chair:

the villain, untying their gag: hahaha! i have kidnapped you for ransom and your father only has 5 hours left to save you by paying me!!!

(name) wayne: damn bruh my father hasn't spoken to me in 13 and a half years i don't think he's coming for me at all, better if you shoot me instead lmao cause i don't think batman would save me either

villain: ...

yan! villain, untying your ropes: welp, kidnapping is basically illegal adoption, am i right?

(name) wayne: as long as i'm fed three times a day and you read me bed time stories before i sleep then i guess that counts?

yan! villain: sweetheart, you are getting more than that.

[gilverrwrites]

Bet ya thought I wasn't doin’ anythin’! Well, buckles off, turn out the lights and sink your teeth into some short and not so sweet smut!

90%-ish of the 16 fics I will be posting are answers to some of my most common or intriguing requests, though I may have been a bad girl, and twisted them a little to taste. Sorry, not sorry💖

Below is my posting schedule and it will also act as a masterlist.

Happy reading my lovelies, I hope you have the best October!

Week One:

1st: Jason Todd/Reader - Virginity

3rd: Roman Sionis/Stripper!Reader - Public Sex

5th: Tim Drake/Reader - Office Sex

Week Two:

7th: Oswalda Cobblepot/Reader - Spit

9th: Dick Grayson/Villain!Reader - Male Squirting

11th: Slade Wilson/Reader - Bladder Control

13th: Tim Drake/Reader - Frotteurism

Week Three:

15th: CEO!Roman Sionis/Reader - Remote Control Vibrator

17th: Dick Grayson/Reader - Pillow Humping

19th: Bruce Wayne/Reader - Sex Pollen

Week Four:

21st: Villain!Dick Grayson/Robin!Reader - Corruption

23nd: Tim Drake/Reader - Vibrator

25th: AK!Jason Todd/Reader - Interrupted

27th: Roy Harper/Reader - Voyeurism

Week Five:

29th: Axel Walker/Reader - Sex Tape

31st: Wally West/Reader - Lingerie*

Anything with a * is subject to change.

[tarrenterror25]

It's soft bitch hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Need to shower the big bads with love and affection 💕

[acapelladitty]

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

Begging will get you far on this blog 😉😈

Breathless

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

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

Fic Masterlist /// Link To AO3

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

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

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

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

Sorry, sir.

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

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

You knew what that meant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 20: I speak in tongues

"I'm not like you, I speak in tongues. It's a different language to those of us, who’ve faced the storm against all odds and found the truth inside." -can u see me in the dark? by Halestorm, I Prevail

Regent Masterlist Part 19 AO3 Mundane Macabre (Main)

When Ellie first began traveling, she’d (rightfully) assumed that she would never stop being surprised by humankind. Humans are curious creatures, capable of both kindness and cruelty in equal measure. 

(The Fentons were prime examples of cruelty)

(Cruel towards the living, dead and those who lie in between.) 

(Their children suffered, maybe even more than the ghosts they tried to hunt) 

With time, Ellie had decided to create her alter ego of Wraith, the quiet being of shadows that was just eerie enough to pass as something other regardless of what form she was in. Wraith was Ellie’s favorite mask to slip on, to hide from the living world as she tried to help where she could. 

Ellie Nightingale was a nomadic medium with a preference for punk rock, bleached hair and her leather jacket. 

Wraith was the opposite in ways that mattered, was created to help with the violence the halfa was witness to, fists bruised and weapons bloody. 

Ellie was not. 

Perhaps she’d broken herself into too many pieces, too many identities, for a solid visage to form. Cracked like a mirror, dirty and covered in old marker messages from friends long gone. Messages she’d carry with her no matter what name she went by, or style of hair, leather jacket or denim- halfa or not. 

That’s what made her unique. 

(Clone.) 

(Failure.)

(Danielle.)

(Ellie.) 

(Wraith.) 

Vlad had been her origin story, her beginning, but he was no longer her master. Slave to no one, daughter of nobody. 

But she was a sister to good people. 

Sometimes Ellie caught herself thinking ‘what would Danny do?’ when confronted with an extraordinary problem, trying to channel his brilliance despite their distance. He might not consider himself very intelligent, but Danny was the cleverest (and kindest) person she’d ever met. He loved her, his clone made as a violation of his bodily autonomy and by his fruitloop of a godfather. 

(Superman had not treated his clone the same.) 

(She understood his feelings of violation) 

(Kon was a living being and needed support too.) 

However, Jazz was her idol. 

Many people would’ve written off the woman as a know-it-all golden child, but those in the inner circle knew the truth. Jazz was the first child of the Fentons, who had nobody but herself to teach or to guide her. When Danny was born, Jasmine devoted everything to caring for him, to raising him as their parents should’ve. 

(His first words, his first steps)

Jasmine Fenton was a woman who loved fiercely and so, so very deeply that she’s willing to sacrifice her own wellbeing to ensure the happiness of the ones lucky enough to be given her love. 

With the rise to Regency and the subsequent downfall of her progenitors, Jasmine Fenton was left to rot in the basement with Danny’s grave, just like the yellow flowers she so fondly left in memorial. 

(Ellie would forever grieve the loss of Jasmine Fenton, the mother she so desperately wanted.) 

Yet, the Lady Nightingale arose from the grave, ash and blood staining her name, a ghost in an inhuman shell, ready to remake the world should she have to burn it down. 

(Jazz carried so few regrets, but they weighed her down like anchors.) 

(One day they might drown her in the dark depths.) 

(Her template’s younger visage admist the spectral mist spoke volumes.) 

(Maybe one day the faces of the elder Fentons would fade away.)

(Ellie could only hope.) 

The Regent, despite having staked her territory in the Ridge alongside Phantom, was unofficially claimed as one of the Crime Alley’s own. Defending the working girls, helping kids with homework or getting them away from ner-do-wells, the Regent had not hesitated to reach out a helping hand even after being targeted by those who would break her will. 

Black Mask, for instance, had put a bounty on the woman’s head with an eagerness that disgusted many others. People knew what a man like him would do with powerful woman, what enjoyment he’d receive breaking her. 

It was also no secret how much the Mask wanted to get his hands on the Red Hood. 

The helmeted vigilante had been a frequent pain in the ass ever since his debut some years ago, destroying his black market operations and getting the Big Bat involved. Sionis wanted little more than to rip off the fucker’s head- helmet and all. 

However, Sionis had tried his hand at subtly for once- he’d hired freelance to take out Hood’s second-in-command while the guy had his guard down with his girlfriend, a pretty red-haired civilian Sionis wouldn’t mind a turn with. The idea was to throw Hood’s gang leadership into chaos so Black Mask’s men could sweep in. Jason Todd was high in the ranks that his death would do just that. 

Figures the guy would survive. 

Jason had been seen with his girlfriend in the Ridge only days after the failed assassination attempt, no worse for the wear. Red Hood had come sniffing around his operations, with Regent stalking his men and the Phantom destroying his latest shipment of merchandise. Though, with the under-the-table job he’d hired out for, Hood found nothing linking him to the attempt on his second-in-command. 

It was time to change tactics. 

The Regent was confirmed to be in a romantic relationship with Hood, if the various Gothamite twitter posts and the sub-reddit r/RedHoodRegent dedicated to commemorating their obvious status, was to be believed. 

There wasn’t many problems with targeting the older sword-wielding vigilante; unlike Robin, Regent didn’t have the Big Bat for backup, but did have the Phantom. The ghost-like meta (or actual ghost, Sionis wasn’t sure how much he believed the rumors) was the biggest obstacle between him and Regent. If Mask could distract (or get rid of) Phantom, then his men could sweep in and eliminate Regent when the vigilante inevitably falls to his numbers. Sure, Sionis was sure he would  lose quite a few men, but it's Gotham. The numbers can always be recouped later. 

Perhaps when Red Hood tries to save his girlfriend, Mask could finally get his hands on him. 

Two birds, one stone. 

Oh yes, Sionis liked this plan. 

He had some calls to make.

A/N: I'm back! This was supposed to be posted on my birthday back in August, but I wasn't in the best headspace for writing or even being on any social media. I have several pieces waiting in the wings to be finished and edited, but I'm back and ready to write again! (Famous last words.)

(To those who guessed Black Mask had something to do with the bomb, kudos.)

Also, for those who might be uncomforable with Sionis' thoughts about Jazz, just remember- he's a bad guy, deranged and over all not the kind of morally upstanding person you want in charge of anything. Things get really dark where it concerns Sionis and what he plans for the future. Just a warning, because those who've read my other works know my penchant for angst.

[moonlit-imagines]

You’ve Got the Wrong Guy!

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x adoptive!reader

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

a/n: silly little gif

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.” You simply stated.

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, dear! What kind?”

“Uhhh…chocolate!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking. 

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums. 

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it. 

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you. 

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

 Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment. 

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!” 

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face. 

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-” 

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most. 

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again.  You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser. 

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

[chloe-skywalker]

Bad This Time - Roman Sionis

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

Warnings: none

Word count: 201

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

Authors Note: First Roman Sionis imagine.

Masterlist

DC Masterlist

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

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

“Roman.” Y/n greeted back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @padawancat97

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Arkham!Black Mask x GN!Reader word count: 750 a/n: usually i'm all no pregnant only breeding kink, but something about being chosen to carry on the sionis line? sign me the fuck UP cw: reader is afab and plus size, doll is used as a pet name, heavy on the breeding kink, cockwarming, unprotected sex, daddy kink 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

As you straddled Roman’s lap you had to remind yourself to take it slow, since that’s what he had requested. A difficult task, given how desperate you were for him, but you enjoyed a challenge.

“How much more d’you think you can take, doll?”

Roman’s hands smoothed over the sides of your body, fingers pressing into the rolls created by the miniscule amount of clothing you wore as he traced over them. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to be this gentle, but even so, this was like experiencing him in a completely different light. He was romantic, affectionate, but right now he was adoring.

“I don’t want this to be a bad memory… it’s gotta be good, y’know?”

Nodding, understanding his desire to make sure this was as pleasant as possible, you eased your body down, lowering yourself onto his cock, taking more of him inside of you. He watched carefully, eyes wide, pupils blown, as another inch disappeared within you, stretching you, caressed by your clenching walls.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck… takin’ it well, as always.”

He winked, his smile wide, a familiar cruelty behind it, the way he looked when he got his way, which was always. But you watched it open wide into a gasp as you took him in completely, letting him fill you with his thick, stiff cock as he groaned in relief.

As you began to roll your hips forward, desperate to feel him throbbing against your insides, he grabbed your waist. There was a stern look on his face, not quite the aggressive glare that his enemies were on the receiving end of, but one that told you he was serious in the gesture.

“Sit still, doll. I want to remember this… how it feels to have you wrapped around me, tight and warm… I just wanna be inside you, ‘kay?”

You did as you were asked, but you could feel yourself clenching, body twitching as it tried to find some pleasure in the motions, to experience Roman’s impressive girth battering against you like usual. There was satisfaction in this though, in ways you hadn’t expected from him. His eyes looking at only you, taking you in completely, no distractions, no closing his eyes in feral lust. They were wide, appreciative, as he memorised how you looked on top of him. How your body felt, so warm and sot and plush.

“Only you could have me losin’ my god damn fuckin’ mind just by letting me wet my dick, ‘know that?”

With your hands on his chest, the smooth texture of his silk, white shirt on your palms, you giggled, skin prickling as you felt his appreciative growl rumble through his body.

“Just knowing what I’m about to do to you… it’s got me close to the edge.”

“Tell me… tell me what you’re going to do to me, daddy.”

The emphasis you put on the word had him tensing up under you, his cock twitching unmistakably inside your dripping cunt. You were riling him up, giving him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Paint your fuckin’ walls with my seed, let it get in there deep…”

One hand moved to your cheek, caressing it softly as he continued.

“I’m gonna make you mine… breed you, mark my territory, make sure everyone knows who your daddy is.”

Your muscles tightened, stomach clenching as you felt your body flushing, heart pounding at the notion of being Roman’s so publicly and undeniably.

“You wanna be a part of something bigger, don’t you doll? Wanna continue the Sionis line with me?”

All you could manage was a nod, biting your lip to stifle any begging and pleading and whining, worried you might put him off if you were anything but perfect for him in that moment.

“Let me cum in you then, let me stamp my fuckin name all over that beautiful body. You ready?”

You weren’t sure what words finally came out, but they were loud, keening, and completely unnoticed by Roman who yelled over them himself, a slurred ambush of expletives and compliments intertwined as he came hard and fast and long, body trembling beneath you as the final waves of his orgasm shuddered over him.

And then his hands were back around your waist, holding you there in position as he offered you another wink.

“Not so fast, doll. You’re not getting off of me until I’m sure it’s deep enough inside you. Can’t leave until there’s a part of me going with you.”

[yandere-wishes]

⭒°𖦹ᯓlacerationsᯓ𖦹°⭒

Author's note: I have made a wondrous discovery. It's called waking up before 10 am. You get the beautiful solitude of staying up past midnight but with an extra bout of energy. And a little extra time to waste on useless things!

WARNINGS: dead dove, Dead Dove, DEAD DOVE, gore, blood, yandere behavior, multifandom (sorta, there weren't many on either side so I just lumped them together) seriously DEAD DOVE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦

Harvey Dent - Two Face | هاروی دنت - دو چهره

You can feel the keratin sinking through skin, tearing the layer of flesh covering your back. Harvey pulls down the incision, well Harv does technically. Letting it marr his fingertips as his tongue nicks itself along your teeth. His other hand, the human side you think bitterly, Harvey, traces constellations across your thighs, nails ever only grazing skin to connect rogue stars. You suck in a sharp breath when his lips abandon yours, feel the longing of his blue eyes sinking into you.

"Don't think" he rasps, voice smooth as silk so soft it makes you maon. "Let the coin choose," he demands voice so gruff you practically feel the sandpaper skating across your skin. The coin dances across the air like loose flower petals to the wind. Only to land scarred side up. You feel the burning ache again, his nails digging into your chest, leaving jagged trails in their wake. Harvey kisses you again, pushing his pain past your teeth and down your gasping throat.

Jason Todd - Red Hood | جیسون تاد - نقاب قرمز

You wonder if he thinks no one would realize if he died. No one would care. That's the problem with dead things walking, it's hard to weep for something twice gone.

Jason's lips are cold, they're always cold, he's never quite as warm as he should be, then again what dead thing is? You can taste the blood and lukewarm Coca-Cola as he forces his tongue past your sealed lips. Sweet iron flooding your mouth, probably from a gash inside his mouth. Your nails dig into the clean-cut scar engraved across his chest. It's instinctual trying to ward off the dead. His hands lay heavy atop your hips memento mori seeping into the bones. Your palms brace his shoulders but there's no defying death.

Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow | جاناتان کرین - مترسک

It makes sense, he thinks as your little fingers thread the needle through his skin and pull trying to seal the bleeding. Scarecrow, scarecrow, a patchwork of old fabrics to brittle for clothes. What's the difference when it comes to him? He's no less patchwork no less a menace than the straw-stuffed mascots he claims to be. But, and although he knows this isn't perfectly logical, Jonathan can't help but wonder if any scarecrow has ever wished for their seamstress to trail languid kisses across the scars, across the patchwork. To brush their ethereal lips along each stitch. To make the pain worth it.

He loves the way you cry and squirm. Withering in pain the needles pierce through flesh, lacing thread and skin. His tongue laps at the blood still spilling from the half-open wound. Relishing in the shaky breath you take and the delicate hiss of pain. The needles sink in again, threading faster. There's some mirthful irony stored somewhere in all of this. He just can't tell what it fully is.

Roman Sionis - Black Mask | رومن سیونیس - ماسک سیاه

You listen to his music, to the thundering 80's metal reverberating across the room as if trying to break the bars of some invisible cage as if trying to seep through dimensions. Roman lets out a lazy breath of smoke, you let the scent burn your nostrils and sink into your flesh. MINE it screams just like everything else he does. You take your own intake, harboring the smoke between your cheeks letting the poison trickle down your lungs until you can't breathe. Then out into the air chasing pathetically after Roman's smoke. Cause isn't that what life is? An endless chase? Trailing after the thing that broke you, that scarred you beyond repair. What happens when you catch it? Do you kill it or kiss it? Will it let you do either?

Roman props himself up on his elbow, black eyes roaming over your scarcely dressed form. "Cute" he mutters, the timber of his voice always echos. You blame the mask, the ebony ivory. Roman brings the cigarette down, the molten heat penetrating the fat of your thigh. You moan or scream, as the sizzling of your skin rings within your ears. The burnt flesh reeks. You wither beneath the pain letting it engulf you and sink inside till your bones cry. Roman twists the cigarette making sure the ashes tumble down your leg little embers leaving dead stars across your flesh. When he finally lifts the dreaded thing you can't help but trace your fingers over the burnt bound. But he swats your fingers away instead, inserting his own, digging his nails into the raw patch until you cry out again.

Anakin Skywalker - Darth Vader | آناکین اسکای واکر - دارت ویدر

The smile he offers is too genuine, too golden. It stings more than the phantom pain scratching at your wrist. Ani's fingers trace the wires of your exposed hand with all the gentleness you'd expect from someone so holy. Twirling wire ends together before binding them with the silver alloy.

He breaks, lifting his head to leave shallow kisses across the valley of your hand where flesh meets metal. Laughing so sweetly when you wince that it makes your stomach churn. Sometimes he lets the iron slip, letting it tickle your arm and imprint it's fine tip across your glowing skin as if it's all a joke, some inside quip between two friends. But you take it sharply cursing at the galaxy beneath your breath for all its cruel cruel mockery.

Darth Maul | دارت مول

Maybe it's the hunger, that makes everything worse. The desperate need for his attention, molten gold gaze bearing into your soul. Taking apart the broken thing and chipping off more pieces than you care to count. Slowly you pace forward, surprised when he lets you lay your hand atop his. Lets you draw closer to his saber.

You feel the burning light kissing your lips, daring you to open your mouth. Your tongue slowly lulls out empaling itself on the red light. Maul laughs at the burning scent that wafts through the starship. Inhales it desperately, engraving it across his mind. Why does this hurt less than his kisses? Why does being burnt by laser light feel so must sweeter than the touches your lover weaves across your fractured body? Lightsaber burns on your tongue, burnt sugar wafting through the air it's all better than the all-consuming darkness that Maul pushes between your bones each night.

[nxtaliaistyping]

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

Batrogues | p links part three

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

nsfw 18+, part one here and part two here

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Two-Face:

He hires you to be his secretary

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

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

Punishments are needed, and he loves your little whimpers

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

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

The Scarecrow:

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Riddler:

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

I’m telling you, he loves thicker girls

Prides himself on his good he is with his hands

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

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

What he does to you after that

Black Mask:

Needs you to be ready wherever you both are

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

This just screams him vibes

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

Sometimes he just wants you to shut up

If his hands won’t work maybe your panties will

The Mad Hatter:

He does so hate when his Alice disobeys him

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

Your taste is addictive

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

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

This seems like something he’d be into

[batman-dc-imagines]

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

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

Arkham!Black Mask

𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤

𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨,

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

𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

- 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯

[gilverrwrites]

at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)

Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.

Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child

Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.

You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.

You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.

You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.

But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.

But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.

“Where’s your dance partner?”

“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.

“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”

And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.

Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.

You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?

And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…

It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?

He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.

But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.

Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.

And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.

How we feeling about this concept?

[tarrenterror25]

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

OH 💖

Black Mask:

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

Two-Face:

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

Hush:

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

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