#selina kyle and reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Gotham Character Ranked by How Many Flowers They'd Give You + Headcanons 🌹🌸⚘🌼🌺 Part 1
Can be see as platonic 😊 Disclaimer: The "ranked" part is just about numbers, not about what's better or worse :)
Doesn't give you flowers: •Bruce Wayne: if you mention that you're against buying unnecessary, short-term things even once, he'll never give you flowers. Cause he respects your wishes like that. •Selina Kyle: she thinks they're stupid (sorry, Ivy). Maybe maybe maybe she steals some one day. "They were...attached to the wallet!" (they weren't).
Tumblr media
(Wonderful fit, these two😂)
Gives you one flower: 🌹 •Edward Nygma. The flower definitely has a special meaning.
Tumblr media
•Alfred Pennyworth. He sees one particularly interesting flower in the garden but not having known you for long, he'd feel weird dragging you out to look at it, so he picks it and puts it in a vase/gives it to you for your desk/suit pocket/behind your ear/hair.
->part 2
34 notes · View notes
luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago
Text
Selina and Bruce getting in the car after meeting with Weddingplanner!Reader.
Bruce still stunned.
Selina: I am only going to ask this once.
Selina: Did you sleep with the wedding planner at one point?
Bruce : …
Bruce : I slept with their mother.
Selina: ….
Selina: If we just meet your kid and didn’t invite them to the wedding I swear I’m about to make this cost you so much fucking money that you will actually feel it.
Bruce : I’ll get the checkbook ready, and we’ll add them to the guest list.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Weddingplanner!Reader dancing in their office after the two leave.
Weddingplanner!Reader: Asshole tax~ Asshole tax~ Gonna add the asshole tax~ Asshole tax~ Asshole tax~ Gonna fuckin’ tax his ass~
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Reader be thinking they're about to make bank only to find out that their life is about to get so much harder that the money ain't even gonna be worth it.
A/N: Selina don’t play that neglect shit, she gonna momma cat the fuck outta Reader. And, make Bruce’s pockets hurt. (Wait, this might be a good Yandere!Selina concept.)
A/N: I’m just trying to get my ideas out so I can focus, don’t mind me.
1K notes · View notes
gothamhappiness · 5 months ago
Text
Dick: Hey Jaybird :)
Jason: What Dickhead?
Dick: When are you getting married with Y/N?
Jason: ... This is actually a very good question.
Jason: Hey Y/N.
Y/N: Yes, babe?
Jason: When are we getting married?
Y/N: I don't know, Todd, where's the ring?
Jason:
Jason: Very soon around your finger, love. Very soon.
(Jason asked Selina which place was the best for engagement rings. She was more than happy to show him.)
2K notes · View notes
ebodebo · 5 months ago
Text
Hey, Waiter!
NSFW CONTENT
next
—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck
—jason todd x f!reader
—2.7k+
wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !
Tumblr media
"Honey, cross your legs."
"Honey, sit up straighter."
"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."
These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.
It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.
So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.
"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.
Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.
"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.
"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.
"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.
Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.
"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.
"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest
"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.
"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.
Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.
"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.
"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.
"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.
"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.
"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.
While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.
"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.
You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.
Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.
"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.
"You know the latch and all."
"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.
"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.
"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.
"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.
"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.
"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.
"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.
"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.
"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.
"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.
"Jason," he adds.
Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.
"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.
"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.
"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.
"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."
You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."
"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”
You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.
"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.
"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.
"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.
"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.
"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.
"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.
"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?
You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.
"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.
"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.
"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.
"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.
His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.
"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.
"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.
You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.
"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.
"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.
"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.
He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.
You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.
"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.
"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.
"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.
"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.
"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.
"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.
"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.
You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.
"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.
You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.
Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.
You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.
"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.
Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.
Tumblr media
a/n: jason todd = thought daughter
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
2K notes · View notes
acid-ixx · 2 months ago
Text
brutus: both arms cradle you now (villain au concept)
ft. yandere! harley quinn (brief mentions of the poison ivy and catwoman) x gn villain! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— masterlist !
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
"so, you're saying you hate the batman, for personal reasons, cupcake?"
you've never expected to have a therapy session with one of your mentors who took you in.
harley quinn, the girl who took you into her abode right after she found you bloodied and laying in a crimson bath of your own one faithful night; death your only comfort.
she, alongside her other company, are well-known people within gotham's criminal gallery. she's known to be obsessed with her ex back then, chasing after his toxic love despite hers being consistently thrown away, she's been seen fighting, or even sometimes helping your father when he's wearing the cowl just to find the joker, she dons clown makeup and displays athletic talent for combat—
she's not the type you'd expect to be well-versed with a person's mental health, with her playful attitude and bouncy steps, but with the way she notices your uncomfortable body language whenever you stumble upon the bat, or how you simmer in silent rage watching him care for his vigilante partners during times they get injured; you'd have to admit she's more than qualified to ask you sensitive questions nobody ought to ask a violent criminal like you.
you don't know it, but you share far more similarities with the girl than you thought; chasing after love never once reciprocated, she has every right to know what makes you so triggered seeing the vigilante every damn time he's within the vicinity.
she has every right because she's the one who saved you when you thought your life would be all over.
when you believed that that day would be the time your soul would leave your body, you'd suddenly awoke to her gentle coos and her retelling her company on how she stumbled upon you. and another woman's palms are on your heated forehead, an unnatural shade of green, yet she helps swipes away your hair for your head as she listens intently to harley's story; she gazes at you just as softly as the other. she's seated right beside a familiar face, too, with cropped, jet-black hair and cat-eyes. it was her expensive duvet that you lay on.
it was there that they coddled you collectively.
they've been your saviors then, and your mentors ever since. it's what you've never asked for, to be cared for by criminals who fought on the opposite side from your fathers, but you've been craving affection your entire life that you'd never once complain about.
now, in the same apartment, her question lingers in the back of your head, you feel goosebumps rise on the topmost layer of your skin, and your heartbeats hasten against the cage of your chest.
despite that, she merely looks over at you, her eyes held a calculating gaze. it's not exactly nerve-wracking like batman's whenever you had your occasional encounters with him, but you can tell she's psychoanalyzing every aspect of your being.
like a therapist for most, but to you, she does so because you know she cares.
gone was the ditzy smile she likes to wear on her playful lips, or the active, bouncy lilt she has whenever she sits upon the swivel chair to talk to you. she stares at you, with piercing blue eyes and furrowed brows, nitpicking every reaction you conjure.
it seems like now's the time she wants to open up with such a sensitive topics.
especially right after the incident where you cried after watching batman speak to the youngest robin, with the sweetest, most poisonous tone you've ever heard from the man. it makes you want to vomit watching it, makes you wish to shrivel outside-in your costume and burn until you're mere embers.
you ask yourself, 'do i hate him?'
truth is...
god, you wish you do. but you're different now.
you have new people to care for you, now and you'd rather throw away that heart wrenching life you had back in the past. batman is nobody to you now, you wish you could lead yourself to believe that he was just your usual opponent, nothing more, nothing less.
yet you merely shift on your cushioned seat, ignoring the blaring telltale signs in your head to stay silent, and reply to her albeit the unsureness in your tone. your words taste bitter, sour, salty, and no way sweet. every unpleasant flavor swirls in your tongue in a cacophony of emotions; and you wish to cry the longer you speak, tongue-tied and wishing to will away the ache in your chest.
"i don't hate him, harley, at least not anymore... it's different, i don't know what to feel about him. maybe it's rage, maybe i want to exact petty revenge on him because of my past with him. don't know. it's all complicated..."
"if it's not hatred, then it's something else, no? you feel something deep within for him, don'tcha, sweetheart? you can't lie to me, you're hurt, and scarred, because of him and his other vigilante partners, i can tell."
she replies, quicker than you do, with empathy and comfort laced in every syllable of her words, and you're taken aback at the kindness and understanding. your eyes flutter away from her worried ones, and you look down to your clenched palms and feel the callouses from all the harsh training you've conditioned yourself to endure, dismissing the way she stands from her chair to walk over to you.
hurt... that's true. you're hurt, and all the emotional scars that lay within you are still open, bleeding, and it aches deeply. every time you build new memories with these people, the pain of the past overpowers whatever improvement you make in life; as if it's haunting and taunting you.
when she kneels down to the level of your lap, just right beneath your vision so you could see her beyond the layers of hair that cover your watery eyes, you see her soft gaze and find her dainty fingers holding your palms, ones you didn't notice dig nails deep into skin until the rivulets of blood escape.
when she squeezes your hands, you follow along the patterns of inhaling and exhaling through her squeezing, a silent session with her to help you calm down from your foreboding emotions; your hastened breaths and brimming tears. you've been so used to ignoring all your emotions that you forget what panic attacks felt like in so long, not until you discover that you've been having small bouts of it every day; not until you realize how it's always your mentors comforting you through every one of your silent sufferings instead of ridiculing you for it.
"calm down, cupcake... i just wanted to know why, so i, alongside the girls, could help you through your emotions. what type of mentors are we if we can't help you, no? you've been so tense lately, we couldn't even see your cute, little smile these days. so don't forget you're still allowed to cry, sweetie... let all your emotions out, 'kay?"
she speaks, with a gentle timbre in her voice, and you allow her to embrace your form, one you didn't realize was shivering until now. yet you still bury your head further into her body without shame and allow yourself respite for once; allow yourself autonomy to be controlled by repressed pain and sorrow you've tried to bury deep into the marrows of your bones and the cages of your heart.
and now you realize why, why you're all crying all the same like last time, and you simply cry for longer at the realization.
because what contrasts with love, was indifference, and never hatred. you once loved batman, bruce, with all your heart because you're his kid, and your momma taught you to love without any expectations. but he sees you with indifference, with nothingness. no care, no emotions or opinions about you, unlike harley's who holds you in her arms and comforts you throughout your lengthened crying.
he doesn't even look at you. the thought bothers you more than ever.
"it's— you're right," you whisper through your hiccups, burying your head further on her stomach as her right hand plays with the strands of your hair, scratching your scalp in a comfortable pattern. she hums as a reply, and allows you to continue.
"i'm hurt, harley... it's so painful just thinking... thinking about how much i'm in pain because of him... but he's, he's—"
"shh, you don't have to force yourself to open up anymore, sweetheart."
when she releases her hold on you, you let out an embarrassingly loud cry, hands swiftly trying to pull her back to embrace you; too desperate to let go, too paranoid that this is all a dream, you wish to sink into her warmth forever.
but she holds you back, just as quickly with her warm palms at your wet cheeks, and looks at you. like you're her savior, her peace, and her everything.
her next sentences satiate the foreboding hunger in your heart, one too starved, one that craved and wished to take what it never have.
she feeds you with love and affection too sweet that it rids the bitter taste in the back of your throat and the bile that slowly rises every time you reminisce.
"i get'cha, sweetie. you wanted something from him you can never have, and when he didn't give you that, it destroyed you entirely you felt like you can never pick yourself right back. been there, done that—"
"—but look at where we're both at now! living the best of our lives, doing fun, risky heists and making ourselves happy with what we think is good for us, no? you get where i'm getting at, right?"
you don't. you feel like melting into her hands and never leaving. she gives and you take, take, and take everything she offers you.
and she knows you don't understand, so she continues rambling knowing you'd grasp into every word she says, not once breaking eye contact with you. she stares fondly, you gaze back reluctantly, unaccustomed to the affection your mentors shower you with. but you don't pull back, she becomes sad and sulky when you do.
you want her to be happy.
"sweetheart, i'm telling you the past is past! get him away from your mind and throw all the thoughts about him away! if you were nothing to him, then he should be nothing to you, easy as pie."
"you deserve better people in your life, like me, and pam, and selina. i can tell you're rough around the edges but that doesn't mean you should strip yourself away from any privilege to be cared for and loved for by people who love you as much as you love them. he's nothing to you now, alright? it's painful, but you can move on from him. i trust you can— you know why?"
harley questions you, with all the confidence in her tone, taking your head to lay it on her body again, positioning it so you could hear the buzz heartbeat, you bury yourself deeper into her warm body and nuzzle into fabric. your heart hastens, but it wasn't panic, it wasn't even fear or hurt, but a drive and motivation that burns deep inside of you; that this is what you always wanted, and needed to protect, and what she generously provided.
all her words echo through your head like it's the truth, your holy grail.
"you have us now, sweetheart. to love, to guide, and to protect you. we're everything you need now."
and you believe her like she's god.
just this once, you do. you're allowed to hope, to dream, and to finally feel special. to be embraced like the fantasies you had in the past, to be held and comforted through every gut wrenching experience, just as she does, now.
for once, you allow yourself to be loved, even if it means it's by the same hands that stain itself with blood, all shed in the glory of your name.
Tumblr media
a/n: happy halloween! i was laying in bed and suddenly had thoughts about this. i don't like this drabble at all ngl erm 😭 this post is related to events prior to the out for blood chapter (idk if i should make it canon to the plot or not) and what i said in this fanart post. despite this not being my favorite piece of work, i like writing about other charactersn too though, especially when they're so soft to the mc. so yeah! if you guys like more of this, please do comment since idk what to feel about this.
Tumblr media
948 notes · View notes
charlotteking23 · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sick Day! 🤒
But these fan art make me feel single 😢
Also, I wanted to say this art is not mine and credit whoever made this amazing arts.
3K notes · View notes
marcyvamp1re-blog · 2 months ago
Note
We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!
SUGAR & SPICE!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.
(PLATONIC FIC)
¿Request? Yes!
This is a Headcanon!
sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.
If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.
warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.
A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!
Tumblr media
When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.
Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."
But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.
"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.
One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”
It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”
Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.
But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.
Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.
After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”
Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.
Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.
There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.
It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."
When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"
The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.
From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.
Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.
But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.
Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.
It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."
"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"
But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"
Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.
"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."
Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."
But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.
Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.
Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.
Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”
You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."
Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.
As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”
You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.
"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."
"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.
"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."
After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!
Take a Bath!
434 notes · View notes
super-marvel-dc · 10 months ago
Text
*Barry, and Y/N talking*
Pietro: *Runs up to Y/N and puts his arm around them* sup.
Y/N. *Stares at Pietro in shock and confusion* Pietro? What are you doing here?
Barry, slightly jealous: You know him?
Y/N, to Barry: Yeah... He's my ex... *Laughs awkwardly, and shrugs Pietro's arm off their shoulders*
Pietro, joking: Ouch, I thought you still loved me!
Barry, to Pietro: Sorry, buddy, but they're with me now.
Y/N: *Backs away slowly* I'm gonna go shopping, you guys have fun, uh, talking...
Y/N: *Bumps into someone* oh my gosh! I'm so sorry-
Y/N: Uh oh...
Loki, grinning: Hello, love.
Pietro, and Barry: Who's that?!
Y/N: Ehe, my ex... husband...
Pietro, and Barry: You were married?!
Loki: To a god.
Y/N, to Loki: You're not helping the situation.
Selina, walking towards Y/N: Y/N, is that you?
Pietro, Barry, and Loki: *Slowly turns to look at Y/N*
Y/N: I can explain...
2K notes · View notes
yannawayne · 5 months ago
Text
i'm gotham's only spidey
SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." AO3: yenwayne : CHARACTER ART OF MORGAN AND SPIDEY
Tumblr media
'what's up danger?"
i. cat's out of the web ii. spidey going solo iii. a leap of faith iv. sexiest vigilante v. @ nightcrawler_updates vi. the hunt vii. crashout viii. a little death (w mild smut)
more in a few!
825 notes · View notes
ronwestbreeze · 8 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
live in gotham they say... | birdie goes to a wedding
summary: what idiot willingly moves to gotham city of all places? you, apparently. word count: 2.8k warning: none! just chaos hehe author's note: i really appreciate the love from my first post of this! so glad y'all are enjoying it! enjoy this next one I have for you!
AO3
Tumblr media
It was a good thing you had a backup plan—at least, that’s what you hoped it would be. Back in high school, you started a small website for your photography business. You made some good money from it back then, so you decided to bring it back in hopes of starting a small business in Gotham.
So far, it’s sort of worked.
In a couple of weeks, you’ve had about three bookings, all for some yearbook photos at three different schools in the city. The money from it could only get you gas and maybe some dinner that could work as leftovers if you were smart and knew how to make it last.
Still living in your car though, but it could be worse!
Your photography bookings were slowly gaining traction and taking off. The next booking was for a birthday party. It was a frat boy scene, not too impressive but hey, you got some good money from it.
The next event that booked you was a wedding.
This, you were a bit more nervous for, mostly because you had nothing to wear that was close to being wedding ceremony material. So, out of desperation, you dug through your boxes of clothes until you finally found a black dress you wore to your grandmother’s funeral back in your junior year of high school. Hopefully, you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.
Turns out, you didn’t.
The venue was a boat. Like a really nice boat. Which told you that whoever was getting married was loaded.
Everyone was dressed differently yet so rich it made you invisible—which helped with not sticking out like a sore thumb. Whatever country the groom and bride were from seemed like they knew how to dress and throw a wedding. Colors burst everywhere, the dresses were over the top yet beautiful and the decorations were bright and loud. Taking pictures was easy to do with so many sights for you to capture. 
This had to be the best booking you’ve ever gotten, especially if it seemed like an A-list kind of wedding with as much security around.
At some point, you were dragged away to the second floor of the ship to get pictures of the bride and the bridesmaids.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” A shriek came from the room the wedding planner was dragging you toward. 
After pushing the door open, inside there was a woman in a puffy wedding gown the color of scarlet with women surrounding her as they did her hair and makeup. Everyone here seemed to speak Spanish and caught up in their own little worlds—except for the bride of course.
The event planner guided you toward the bride, motioning for you to take pictures of her getting ready. You carefully made your way over—mindful not to get in the way of the makeup and hair crew—as you held your camera up, “Okay, can I get a nice smile from the bride—“
“How the fuck do you expect me to do a heist without a getaway driver?! What do you mean King Shark called in sick?!” You paused, the grip on your camera tightening. A heist? Did you hear that correctly? The bride to be planning a heist in the middle of her wedding? No, maybe you misunderstood…
The bride kept going, not noticing you yet. “This isn’t Big Belly Burger! He’s not gonna get fucking PTO…” The bride trailed off once she did finally notice you and your camera. She had a phone to her ear and her eyes were wide. Oh shit. “Aw, shit…”
Shit, she knows you overheard her. Why the hell was she planning a heist in the first place—not the point. But this made you a suspect, right? What if the police got involved—what if she’d have you killed for knowing about the heist? How did this already turn to shit? 
For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Waiting to see what the other would do first.
“Harls? You good?” A woman’s voice came from the bride’s—Harls—phone. The woman was probably her other crew for the heist—shit, she was going to send them after you, wasn’t she? 
Think, think!
“Yeah…” The bride sighed as she reached under her dress. You blanched when you saw it was a gun. “Montez might’ve sent a little birdie—yes, don’t worry, I’ll handle it! I haven’t screwed it up yet!”
“¡sonríe para la cámara!” You blurted before taking her picture with the flash on. 
She hissed, throwing her head back in surprise, “Ow!—The little birdie blinded me!—Yeah well, it hurt my eyes so shut up, will ya?”
Quickly, you moved to get pictures of the bridesmaid, repeating the same line in Spanish, hoping to show that you couldn’t speak English and totally didn’t hear or understand anything she had said about a heist or a getaway driver, before dashing out of the room to get back to the deck.
You blended in with the rest of the guests and photographers, making sure to keep your head low and unnoticeable. But of course, you just had to notice more strange things.
The security guards standing by were all holding guns, almost as if ready to shoot anyone who would step out of line. Then there were some of the guests. Most of the men were tatted and drenched in gold chains and expensive-looking watches. The gold didn’t stop at the men but even the women were decked out in more expensive-looking jewelry. Some were even smoking cigars as they stepped straight out of The Godfather.
First, the bride was planning a heist and now you felt as if you were in the middle of a mob boss movie. Just what kind of wedding was this?
“You’re living in your car. You’re living in your car.” You murmured to yourself, trying to calm your nerves.
Suddenly the groom came down the aisle and everyone gathered in place. The distant waves of the water and the organ playing set the mood of the wedding. You snapped pictures of the bridesmaids and groomsmen walking down the aisle and snapped a few more pictures of the guests before finally the bride came out.
You subtly hid yourself behind a nearby security guard, hoping to stay out of sight as she came down the aisle. She was very pretty, that much was clear. Some of her pale blonde hair was highlighted with blue and pink and her scarlet wedding gown trailed along the floor behind her as she walked. But she seemed quite distracted, her head snapping back and forth as if she were looking for something—or someone.
Shit, was she still hoping to take you out? Maybe you’re Spanish was a bit rusty after all.
Fortunately, you weren’t the one she was worried about.
By the time she got to the end of the aisle, the minister began the officiation—and yet you couldn’t stop noticing strange things as the ceremony went on.
Some of the security guards started blocking the entrances. Some of the guests began fiddling with their holsters that were conveniently hidden under their coats and dresses. Then there was the fact a few chairs were empty of a few guests a few thuds were coming from outside the double doors the security guards were standing in front of. 
You were suddenly all too aware of the way the boat was slightly rocking. All your life, you’ve never been one to be seasick but your stomach was twisting up into all sorts of knots at the moment. You could legitimately throw up from being so anxious.
God, you really hated being observant.
“Harley Quinn, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asked, snapping you back to the ceremony.
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” The bride—Harley—shrugged distractedly whilst her eyes kept dancing around the room.
“And Gabriel Montez, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
You furrowed your brows at that point. Why was the minister speaking English?
Harley seemed to notice this as well. “Aw, shit.”
The minister closed the bible, “Then I hereby pronounce you—UNDER ARREST!”
And just like that, the whole room broke into utter chaos. The minister removed his fake beard and robes to reveal he was a cop. A few of the security guards did the same. You ducked under a nearby table as soon as the guns were out, the cigars were put out, and bullets went flying.
The bride, Harley pulled out two guns and joined in the gunfight. “Secure the goods! Secure the goods! We’ll get our own fucking getaway driver!”
You had to get out of here fast. 
Taking a risk, you crawled from under the table and toward the double doors leading out of this chaotic room. A body had dropped next to you, causing you to yelp and look away before you could see the blood and the lifeless eyes from them. You just kept going, no point in stopping or looking back. Everyone was distracted, you wouldn’t waste your chance of escaping.
Once you got to the double doors, one of them slammed open—nearly smacking you in the face in the process—as a few more security guards rushed in to join the chaos. You took that chance to dive through the door right before it closed, muffling the shouts and the gunshots. Stumbling to your feet, you didn’t hesitate to run.
It took a moment for you to find the path leading down under the boat where are the escape baots were. That’s the one thing you remembered when you were given the tour. There were for emergencies and you were pretty sure this counted as one. But finding it was the biggest relief. They were all either lifeboats or motorboats. And wanting to get to land faster, you went for the motor boat.
Quickly, you searched for the emergency latch and pulled it down, creating an opening wide enough for you to take one of the boats and escape. You leaped onto one of the motorboats, making sure to untie it from the anchor.
“Freeze!”
You yelped and glanced over our shoulder, seeing a cop a few feet away, pointing a gun straight at you.
Fuck.
“H-Hey! I’m not a part of this! I’m just the photographer!” You tried while raising your hands as the cop drew closer, his gun never wavering.
“Slowly, get out of the boat.” The cop ordered making your heart drop.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Carefully and slowly, you got out of the motorboat, “There must be some mistake—I swear I have nothing to do with the heist, I swear!”
The cop then narrowed his eyes, “Oh yeah, then how did you know there was even a heist if you’re just a photographer?”
You paused and realized your mistake. Okay, that one was on you.
“Alright, that’s a fair point.” You grumbled, hands still raised.
The cop never lowered the gun, “Step away from the boat. You’re coming with me.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly stepped away from the boats. “Please—this is all just some misunderstanding—all I do is take pictures—um, do you have to point the gun at me? Uh…No hablo ingles?”
“Just shut up already and stand still!”
“…Que?”
Now he was pissed—which granted was your fault. “Alright, kid. One more word out that mouth of yours and I’ll—“
A gun went off and the cop fell forward. You screamed as his body fell into the water. Now a new gun was pointed at you, this time with the bride—Harley Quinn—on the other side of it.
She grinned at you, “I knew you could speak English, little birdie!”
Your hands were still raised while you trembled, “To be fair I panicked and I really didn’t mean to overhear your heist plans—I’m just a photographer here trying to make a living so, uh, please don’t kill me. I won’t tell anyone, seriously—“
Distant voices and footsteps drew near, causing Harley to groan and suddenly push you into one of the motorboats. “Enough yapping and more running!“ She dumped a duffel bag onto the boat which landed with a heavy thud with clinking sounds coming from inside it. No doubt that was the stolen goods.
“Wait, what are you—“ You furrowed your brows as she was tearing the skirts of her wedding dress.
Harley sent you a glare with wide eyes, “Whatcha waitin’ for? You wanna go to the slammer or do you wanna escape and be a free birdie, birdie?!” 
“Not with a criminal!” 
“Gasp! I’m hurt! And here I thought we bonded for a moment!”
The cops were drawing closer. You glanced toward the dead cop floating in the water, knowing that if they saw that and you were in the boat with Harley, then you were as sure as dead.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Tick-tock, little birdie!” Harley shouted as she loaded more bullets into her guns.
With that, you quickly adjusted your camera and quickly turned the engine on. The footsteps were getting closer and Harely clicked her guns into place. 
Shit, shit, shit.
The first few cops came down, guns pointed. “Stop right there—“
You slammed on the pedal and steered the motorboat out of the underboat just as Harely started blazing bullets toward the cops. 
“HAHA! Too slow!” Harley stuck her tongue out as she continued shooting at the cops the more they got further and further away from the boat.
Night had fallen and the air was cold despite the warm spring season. Gunshots echoed through the distance but you tried your best to drown it out while steering the boat away from the chaos. Though, of course, chaos itself was on the boat with you.
“Wow, you’re good at this! Have ya ever been a getaway driver before?” Harley asked once they were further away out of range of the cops and gunshots. 
You swallowed, shivering slightly from the cold. “No—I mean, I’ve driven a boat before but I’ve never done this. Boat racing doesn’t count, does it? Then again, I’ve never helped a criminal escape from the police—am I going to be wanted now? Did they see my face? Oh great, not even a couple of weeks into here and I’m already being chased by police—there aren’t going to be flyers with my face around town are there? I just wanted to get a job and a little apartment, not go to jail—“
“Wow, you’re a yapper, huh?” Harley laughed as she leaned against your shoulder. “Well, welcome to Gotham, suga, it ain’t getting any prettier from here.”
You frowned and glanced toward her, “Uh…thanks?”
Eventually, a beach came into view as you steered the boat toward it. Once you had gotten to shore, Harley leaped out of the boat with the bag of stolen goods, “You should probably get running, birdie. Them coppers are persistent little fuckers.” 
Just as she said that you heard the distant sirens stirring you to quickly scramble away from the boat and rush along the beach. Harley ran in one direction while you ran in another. 
“See ya around, little birdie!” You heard her call and could practically hear the grin in her voice.
Finally, after what felt like hours, you found your parked car and let out a huge sigh of relief. Only to groan when you realized that you wouldn’t be paid after all of that bullcrap. So much for a guaranteed buck. Maybe no more weddings for now—especially ones on boats.
You took your camera and placed it safely back in its case when you suddenly felt something heavy in the pocket of your dress. Hesitatingly, you dug into your pocket and took out the heavy object—only to gasp.
In your hands was a gold watch—one of those watches you’d seen those older tattooed men wearing at the wedding. How it got in your possession you weren’t sure….
A flash of Harley’s grin was imprinted into your mind and you gripped the watch.
You could return it. That would be the right thing to do.
But then again, you went through hell just for a photography job. And you needed another meal to last you more than a couple of nights.
Technically…you didn’t steal it.
And technically, you could look at this as your paycheck.
In the corner of your eye, there was movement. You thought someone had caught you as you quickly pocketed the watch away and looked toward the movement. 
Only you saw a cat sitting on the hood of one of the nearby cars, its indigo eyes staring in your direction curiously. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.
At some point, you pulled out of the parking lot. At some point, you drove past the police cruisers who didn’t spare you a second glance. At some point, the watch ended up back in your pocket and you didn’t think twice about it then.
Tumblr media
277 notes · View notes
Text
Gotham 2014 Selina Kyle Masterlist
Meow (I'm still watching the show and they better show some more cats 😹😽)
These will be platonic or with Batcat in mind, by the way
Tumblr media
Gotham Character Ranked by How Many Flowers They'd Give You + Headcanons 🌹🌸⚘🌼🌺 Part 1
1 note · View note
sahsalart · 1 month ago
Text
(DC) C’mere Bae, Come Sit Next To Me
Tumblr media
IK IT BEEN A WHILE SINCE A MF POSTED ART ON HERE!! And my post back, ofc, has to be DC related and more specifically, Batfamily bullshit cuz I love them. Especially Jason Todd‼️‼️ He’s my favorite fictional man even topping Leon🤭 This is a little part of something I’m working on so expect more.
Anywho, fanart with him and one of my many DC OC’s, Saími Caceres, who’s a lil feminine witch…
AND NO!! She is not hypnotizing him, her eyes glow when she feels strong emotions :)))
Enjoy <3
283 notes · View notes
thealtoduck · 5 months ago
Text
*Inspired by Katseye ”Debut” m/v*
Tumblr media
*Batkids hanging on to each other from the flagpole of a rooftop*
*Typing noises*
Dick: What’s that?
Tim: Is someone typing?
BatCat!Bro: *On his phone texting*
Jason: *sees BatCat!Bro on his phone* Y/N! What the hell?!
BatCat!Bro, not paying attention: …What?
Tim: You’re TEXTING?! Now?!
BatCat!Bro, casually: …yeah *takes a cute selfie*
Damian: Really Kyle? Really?!
Dick: Y/n! Put your phone away!
BatCat!Bro, just as casually: …wait. *sends text*
Jason: *receives a text*
Jason reading the text: *brings out phone* ”Fuck you shithead”- Y/n?!
BatCat!Bro: *ignores him and puts away phone* Okay, I’m done now, how do we get out of here?
594 notes · View notes
thebigbadbatswife · 6 months ago
Text
Working For It
Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne x F!Reader x Selina Kyle
Summary - Bruce and Selina love to make you work for his cock.
Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Thigh riding. Fingering. Face sitting. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Bruce and Selina are a little mean. Aftercare.
Word Count - 1.9k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Come on, baby. We both know you can do better than that,” Selina purrs from where she lays on the bed. She’s on her side, one hand supporting her head while the other is between her thighs, playing with her clit.
All you can do is whine and moan as you roll your hips, almost desperately, against Bruce’s bare thigh. His back is against the headboard, eyes dark as he watches you cover his thigh in your slick. His cock is rock hard, the head red and dripping precum. He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“I don’t know, Selina. I don’t think she wants my cock that badly.”
His words have you whining out of frustration. You do want his cock. You really do, but the slicker his thigh gets with your juices the less friction there is, making it harder to keep your pace and chase your pleasure. 
“I do,” you gasp. “I do want your cock! I want it so badly.” 
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless?” he asks. 
You nod eagerly. You do. You really do. It’s been on your mind more often than it hasn’t all week and it’s been driving you crazy. But both of your lovers seem content with torturing you instead.
“Gonna be a good girl and come on my thigh then?”
“Yes. I want to be your good girl,” you mange to choke out. You try angling your hips differently, getting your clit to fully press against his body, but it doesn’t really work. Instead it only leaves you more frustrated than you were before.
Bruce must take pity on you because the next thing you know you’re being briefly lifted from his thigh while a towel is draped over his thigh.
“There we go. That’s better,” he coos. The hand on your hip, that’s been keeping you stable this entire time, gives you a gentle squeeze.
You have already started rutting against him again, the friction created by the towel giving you more control and feeling of it dragging against your engorged clit feels amazing and has you finally getting closer to your release. 
Bruce is enjoying the fucked out expression on your pretty face as you moan and fuck yourself on his thigh. You’re so goddamn wet that you have already soaked the towel, seeping through the fabric and clinging to his skin. His attention is pulled away from you as Selina moves. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and he moans into the kiss. His free hand comes up between her thighs, his fingers easily sliding through her slick folds and he pushes them up inside of her. She moans as she starts to fuck herself onto his fingers and he takes the opportunity to wrap his mouth around one of her nipples.
Your eyes are completely focused on Bruce and Selina. You love watching your two lovers kiss and touch each other. It adds to your own excitement, adding to the pressure building up deep inside of your lower stomach. Selina’s gaze meets yours, mischief dancing in those green eyes of hers.
“I think she should only be able to have your cock if she can cum in the next 30 seconds.” 
Bruce chuckles and it’s clear he’s agreeing with her. They both love torturing you so much and you’re so intoxicated by both of them that all you can do is listen to them because you want it. You want his cock. No, you need his cock. You need to feel him splitting you open and filling you up so badly, until you’re so fucked out you can’t remember your name anymore. 
“20 seconds,” Selina calls.
As mean as he can be at times, Bruce is still nice enough to keep a grip on your hips, continuing to give you the leverage that you need as you continue to grind your soaked cunt against him.
“Ten seconds.”
They both can tell you’re close by the way that your moans continue to grow louder and louder.
“5 seconds, baby. Time’s almost up.”
By the time that Selina reaches 3, you’re crying out Bruce’s name, your head thrown back and your eyes shut, as your orgasm steals away your breath. He catches you as you collapse against him, your head coming to rest against his chest as your body shakes and you trying to regain control of your breathing. As you come down from your high, catching your breath, he praises you and tells you what a good girl you are for them. Selina’s hands come to rest on your hips and she presses feather light kisses to your sweat soaked skin, adding her voice to his praises. 
Their words start to spark more heat inside of you, a growing need starting to build back up from deep within. There’s only one thing that you can think of that will help soothe it.
“I can’t believe the two of you timed me,” you mutter once you finally feel recovered enough. “I better get my reward.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Bruce replies. You feel Selina pull away and he gently flips your positions so that you’re now laying on the bed with him on top. He presses his lips against yours in a slow and sweet kiss. You sigh into the kiss as your hands come up to cup his face.
He pulls away sooner than you would like for him to, resting on his knees as he gets you to wrap your hips around him and he lines his cock up with your entrance. You gasp and your back arches as his cock starts to push inside of you. That delicious stretch as your body accommodates his large size has your fingers gripping the bedsheets. He bottoms out inside of you and stills for a moment. 
Selina kisses you before settling her legs either side of your head, facing Bruce. Her pussy is absolutely dripping with need, her clitoris red and engorged, poking out from beneath its hood. You swallow thickly at the sight, your cunt squeezing around Bruce’s cock, drawing a deep groan from him. You have to taste her. As you tug her down to get her to sit on your face, Selina laughs.
 “Always so eager to please,” she purrs, already gently rolling her hips. 
You answer her by wrapping your lips around her clitoris and sucking, drawing a moan from her. Pleased, you release her clit and lap up her arousal, groaning at her taste. 
Your groan quickly turns into a moan as Bruce slowly pulls out before roughly thrusting back into you. He sets a steady pace, each thrust making you moan against her pussy. You’re still so sensitive from your previous orgasm you can feel the pleasure quickly building up inside of you. Your nails dig into Selina’s muscular thighs in attempt to try and ground yourself.
Though you can’t see either of them right now, you know that they are kissing. Their moans and groans are muffled and his pace has slowed, letting the pleasure that's been building up inside of you slowly fizzle out.
As you roll your hips, looking for some friction and trying to get him to move faster again, you push three of your fingers inside of Selina and wrap your lips around her clit again. You know when you have found that sweet spot deep inside of her by the way that she suddenly gasps your name and her body squeezes your fingers while her thighs squeeze the side of your head. Her nails scrape against your skin and she rides your face more insistently, chasing after her high.
Bruce’s pace slows down even more. He drags his cock against the walls of your cunt, making sure you can feel every last vein, as he watches Selina fall apart thanks to your deft tongue and fingers. Her mouth drops open as she cries your name and her entire body shakes as her orgasm crashes into her. The sight is almost enough to have him cumming right there. She rolls off of your face, collapsing against the mattress as she breathes heavily.
He sees his chance and moves forward. Your mouth and chin are covered in her release. He can’t help himself. He licks a stripe from your chin to the tip of your nose, groaning softly at the tangy taste. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss and happily letting him push his tongue into your mouth. 
As the two of you kiss, Bruce starts to move again. This time faster and a little bit harder than before. Each thrust has you moaning wantonly as your nails start to dig into his back. The springs of the mattress creak with each thrust and his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck.
Slender fingers surprise you as they press against your overly sensitive clitoris and start to rub tight circles against it. You’re sure that you must be drawing blood as the grip you have on him tightens the closer you get to your climax. Pleasure is thrumming through every inch of you and you know he’s as close as you are. His thrusts are growing sloppy and his usually grunts and groans are turning into moans of your name.
“Come on, baby. Let go.” 
You have no idea which one of you Selina is actually talking to. Perhaps both of you? In the end it doesn’t really matter. You get there first, your body locking up and squeezing his cock as the edges of your vision turn fuzzy and all you can hear is your heart thumping away in your ears. Bruce falls straight over the edge with you, the squeezing of your cunt too much for him, and he buries himself as deep as he can, as he fills your pussy with his cum.
By the time you come back to your senses, Bruce has already pulled out of you and is cleaning you up, while Selina has your head resting in her lap and is gently stroking your hair. The feeling of the damp washcloth coming in contact with your pussy has a sharp gasp leaving you as you realise just how sore you are down there. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your knee. “Got a bath running for you. Should help with your discomfort.” 
“And I’ve ordered takeout from your favourite place,” Selina says. “You must be starving.”
“Sounds good,” you reply. She’s not wrong, you are hungry, and food from your favourite place sounds absolutely divine.
Your orgasms have left you completely boneless and exhausted, but it’s the good type of exhausted. One where you feel so content with your life and loved by the two people that you love most in this world. It also leaves you pliable and easy for Bruce to manhandle as he lifts you from the bed. You curl into his embrace, snuggling against his body, which has him chuckling. As he carries you toward the en-suite, you find yourself desperately fighting to keep your eyelids open as sleep tries to claim you.
The feeling of hot water washing over your body doesn’t help. It’s a battle the entire time to keep yourself awake. One that both Bruce and Selina seem to find amusing.
It’s only after your bath and your food has arrived that you wake up a little bit more. The smell of the food making your stomach growl and your mouth water as your body decides that eating right now is way more important than trying to get some sleep.
Once you’re full, you have no issues with falling fast asleep. Especially when you’re finally tucked in bed with both of Bruce and Selina’s bodies pressed against your own.
667 notes · View notes
to-the-stars8 · 23 days ago
Text
Learning to Love Slowly
Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3
77- The Look and Mr. Wayne
It was astounding how much you and Jason could tell each other from a single look. Whether it be an eye roll, a smirk, or even a wink, there would be an understanding of the circumstances from one of you. Bruce had first noticed it when Barbara and Dick had gotten into a fight. You had shot Jason a look from across the room, and he had returned it with an eye roll. 
From that moment forward, he couldn’t stop noticing it. 
It took him a while to decode the meanings of your expressions, and what exactly stirred up such a silent, riveting conversation. In a way, it let Bruce know Jason better. He began to notice how Jason could tell you he was annoyed just by how he sighed and rolled his eyes. You expressed your silent disapproval of Jason by silently raising your eyebrows and thinning your lips. It didn’t matter where the two of you were, if you wanted to say something to each other a look would be shared. 
Bruce thought about pointing it out but found himself unwilling to share such sweet information. It was like he was a part of the conversation, though neither of you realized it. He could quietly chuckle along with you and Jason at the absurdity of Tim and Damian’s reasoning for arguing and judging Dick for his choices in his love life. It felt like he was part of an inside joke.
Then, Bruce saw you and Jason gave him the look. 
Jason was gearing up as you talked about dinner plans with your family so normal-like that it must have been a regular occurrence. Bruce had hardly been paying attention as he restocked the medical cabinets, more focused on the amount of gauze he would need than Jason meeting that one family you couldn’t stand. 
“Oh, there you are, honey,” Selina’s sing-song voice echoed through the cave. 
Momentarily, you and Jason looked over before resuming your conversation like she hadn’t just walked in. Bruce wasn’t too surprised by your lack of greeting. Most of the time the two of you were so caught up in each other that it was hard to notice anyone else in the world. 
“We’re still going to dinner tonight, hm?” Selina asked, propping herself up on the exam table. Bruce hummed a yes as he continued to count the gauzes. “Maybe we could try that new place and take the Porsche. Oh, these look new.” 
Selina reached into the utility belt around Bruce’s waist and plucked out a pair of cuffs. She unabashedly asked if she had broken the other ones, which, without context, sounded incredibly bad. Bruce could hardly manage a full answer. Selina seemed oblivious and Bruce glanced across the room at the two of you. 
Your eyebrows were raised and a slight smirk graced your face, silently telling your boyfriend, “Please tell me you heard that, too, so we can properly assess this.”
Jason responded by rolling his eyes and pretending to gag. “I did, and I hated it,” His look practically said. 
Nodding, you looked away as you tried to hold back a smile, making Jason whisper something in your ear. You tried not to laugh, but your boyfriend didn’t care enough not to.
The deep, loud sound caught Selina’s attention, and she asked, “Whatcha laughing at?” 
Jason refused to answer, and you couldn’t think of the words to explain. 
Bruce quickly changed the subject by shaking his head and Selina shot a look back. Luckily, they didn’t need any words, either.
186 notes · View notes
standamianwayne · 7 days ago
Text
yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader
Tumblr media
stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)
i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.
selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.
barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.
her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.
okay i know that in the current run helena isn’t biologically related to bruce/selina, butttt idc i want her and the twins to be bio siblings. like it was reader and damian for so long and all of a sudden they get like 8 new siblings? it’d be pretty awkward for a while, but i think reader and helena would both really want a sister. so like while the others are great, i think they bond easy over being Bruce’s blood daughters and what that entails. especially since helena’s mom is catwoman (vigilante) and reader’s mom is talia (assassin).
reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.
cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.
stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)
Tumblr media
now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!
heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.
also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.
anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️
192 notes · View notes