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#roman sionis x
moonlit-imagines · 3 months
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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.”
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“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 //
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recreationalfanfics · 10 months
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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.
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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.
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finniestoncrane · 13 days
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Regarding Black Mask having sadistic kinks…he would totally give his partner instructions that are impossible to follow (telling them not to make any noise and then doing something guaranteed to make them moan/scream) just so he can punish them when they can’t do it
Keep Quiet
Arkham!Black Mask x GN!Reader, word count: 1.4k ok be nice to me be kind to me this is my first black mask thing, and i gotta be honest, it's nice to write someone being a complete bastard who just is a complete bastard. reader has been paid by roman in an undisclosed agreement to be his little puppy, but he might be a bit rougher than they imagined... 💀 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of a monetary arrangement, sub/dom dynamics, rough oral sex, spanking, slapping, humiliation, degradation, sadomasichism, crying, pet play
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"Keep. Quiet."
Those were the key words, the rules you were given. They'd been printed on the bottom of the invite card. They were uttered to you by the henchman who was posted at the door to the office. And Roman Sionis himself had uttered them slowly, cruelly, as he watched you undress and guided you to the slick, black platform in the middle of the room.
"Keep quiet. Don't make a sound. I'd hate to have to punish ya."
He turned on his heel, bright red flashing on the bottom of the polished, black leather dress shoes. With a dry chuckle, he turned again, leaning down once more so his face was level with yours where you lay face down on the platform in the middle of the room, though his was hidden behind the matte black skull mask he wore.
"I lied. Punishin' ya would be... well it'd be pretty fuckin' good. But I'm feelin' generous tonight, y'know?"
You nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, as you realised that perhaps the reward here didn't quite make up for the risk. You got money, you got pleasure. But you potentially lost everything at the hands of Black Mask. Violent, notorious, and unpredictable.
Or maybe, you considered, it was worth the risk, given how quickly you felt the pit of your stomach warm, how your heartbeat skipped slightly, how your arousal tingled through you at the thought of those last three attributes. Handsome, yes. Rich, of course. Powerful, naturally. But those were nowhere near as arousing as the volatile behaviour you'd heard tell of being exhibited by Roman in the past. You wanted to experience that for yourself, truth be told. Apathetic, yes. But curious more than anything.
You wondered why you had to be quiet. Some of the others, the ones who had been hired by Roman before, had told you that he had the room bugged. That suggested that perhaps a loud scream might not be picked up well on the mics and would ruin his recording. But then why would he bug the room if he didn’t want any sound? Unless he just wanted to hear himself… But this was Roman Sionis. If he wanted to record any kind of sound, he wouldn’t do it covertly, and certainly not with anything less than the best equipment.
So was it perhaps something to do with the fact that you were in his office, within his building? His employees were right there, just beyond the walls. Maybe he would be embarrassed if they heard what was going on? But of course, he wouldn’t be. Either the walls were soundproofed to allow him to be as heinous as he wanted, or, more likely, they were paper thin so everyone could hear exactly what was going on. After all, who of his employees was going to risk saying anything to him.
And then, you settled on the realisation that it was control. He had control over you completely. From how much you wore, to where you lay, to how much sound you could make in his presence, regardless of what kind of damage he intending to inflict on you. No one spoke back to him, least of all the playthings he was paying. You were there to lay still and be keep quiet. So you close your eyes, letting your body, laying face down, sink into the surface of the podium you had been so sarcastically placed upon, and considered what might be about to happen to you.
Just as your mind began to wander further, causing your heart rate to increase, you felt the sharp, smooth crack of his palm against your rear. The flesh on one of your cheeks heated immediately in response to the smack. You didn’t have time to process the sudden invasion of your personal space before Roman was smacking the other side. His hand switched between your two cheeks, covering your ass in deep, rounded welts as his leather glove came into contact with your red, trembling skin. Over and over, the pain getting stronger either through the repetitive nature or the increase in force, in violence, behind his smacks. Until he suddenly stopped, his heavy breaths getting louder as he walked around you, his finger stroking along your curves as he made his way around to your head.
“Roll over.”
You did as he instructed, and were met with cruelty even then.
“Good dog. Do you know any more tricks then?”
You couldn’t tell whether you should answer or not, so you stayed silent, staring into what you could make out of his eyes beneath the dark mask. With a surprisingly gentle hand, he let his fingers spread through your hair, stroking it, soothing you almost, before he gripped it close to your scalp and tugged sharply. As he pulled your body towards him, you scrambled on your palms, trying to pull your body up the platform, closer to him, where he wanted you to be, until you were laying with your head completely off the edge. Upside down. Waiting for his next move. You opened your mouth to speak, to protest the uncomfortable position, but you were stunned back into silence as his palm cracked your face.
“Don’t even think about talkin’, sweetheart. Keep. Quiet. Keep fuckin’ quiet.”
You nodded, the sting of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You worried that he might offer further punishment for this display of emotion, but instead he crouched down once again to your level and tutted.
“You dumb animal. Not quite as clever as I thought you were, huh pooch?”
He watched as you swallowed your nerves, throat tensing with the motion.
“Nervous, eh? Good. You should be.”
He placed a finger between your sternum, following it to between your collarbones, then trailing it up your throat to your chin as you watched him, his eyes keeping focus on where he was touching you.
“You know, if there’s one thing I truly hate…”
Roman paused, licking the lips of his mask, eyes narrowing as he took in your pitiful form before him.
“… it’s a puppy who isn’t housebroken.”
His fingers were suddenly tensing, putting pressure on your throat. Constricting your breathing ever so slightly. Enough to cause you to panic before you tried to calm yourself down, preserving the remaining breath in your lungs.
“You gonna whine, little puppy? You gonna howl an’ cry?”
Working against the strength of his grip, you managed to shake your head, a gesture which was met with a deep, dark chuckle from Roman.
“Good. I don’t have time to go take you to be put down.”
Your tears welled up as his grip got tighter, but you fought against the instinct to raise your hands and pull him away from you. If you could just see it through, keep calm, stay still, it’d be over soon. And it was. He let go, leaning forward to admire the dark imprints his fingers had left on your skin.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
A rhetorical question. He knew by the streaks of tears that were stinging your eyes as gravity carried them back towards them that it had been an ordeal.
“I told ya. I paid for ya, I ain’t gonna break ya. Not this soon, anyway. Not before I’ve had my fun.”
Your pupils widened as he brought his hands to the zipper at the front of his white, pinstripe pants. He reached his fingers inside the fabric and pulled out his cock, fingers wrapped around the base as he approached you. Inhaling only through your nose, you tried to keep your mouth closed, silently signalling to him your thoughts on what he was proposing. But he wasn’t proposing it, and he had no intentions of asking for your opinion.
He forced his cock into your mouth, pushing it between your lightly pursed lips, his head hitting the back of your throat as he pushed his entire length into you. There was no hesitation, no hint of him letting up despite the fact that you were now quietly choking on him. When you gagged and let out a whine, an involuntary noise, he whipped his cock out of your throat, drool spilling onto your face.
“If I have to tell you again, you are gonna be one sorry pup.”
Pressing a finger to your lips, you watched in silence as his cock twitched, clearly aroused by the control he held over you.
“Keep. Quiet.”
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thegreatwicked · 2 months
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FicRecs
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Enjoy some of my favorite stories I've come across on Tumblr! Seriously, I LOVE these stories and I reread them A LOT!
Please note: Virtually ALL OF THESE STORIES ARE SMUT. That means 18+ content, and you are responsible for managing your internet consumption. Minors DNI.
FicRecs
DC Comics
Dance for Daddy by @matth1w LAWD. I love me some Roman Sionis fics and this one DELIVERS. Sexy, kinky, smutty I give it a solid Chefs Kiss.
Joy Ride and Let Me Make You Feel Good, The Intern by @littleredwing89 More delicious Roman Sionis one shots Joy ride is about teasing Roman as he drives and Let Me Make You Feel Good is about a sweet smutty cure for a hangover. And the Intern, a fuck buddies to lovers story, god yum. Reader inserts. Drool. Go forth read and enjoy.
Bait the Beast by @more-cardigan-than-womanLord help me, I found a new little gem. You cause a bit of a ruckus with Coblepot and Roman thinks you need a lesson.
Yours by @tarrenterror25set in the AO! Verse Roman is having some trouble during the holidays overcoming everything the Joker did to him, good thing he has you. Because he does. You're his now. Melt. Sorry about the mess.
Star Wars
Water and Rock by @split-spectrum I honestly cannot say enough good things about this story It follows Obi-wan/Fem Reader in the classic Master/Padawan troupe and it. is. SPICY. Up to twelve chapters which I have read MULTIPLE TIMES and it hits so hard. Go read this story it is sexy as HELL and gives you the feels. She's so damn good at writing Obi-Wan it hurts, but like in a kinky good way.
The Gift by @ladyinwriting18 I have already spoke at length about the fabulousness that is Lady in Writing and her amazing content. This one is a favorite! Its a Maul/Reader Insert and it is smutty sxy and kinky. Seriously if Maul is your fictional crush (Hi me too!), go read this.
The Three Princes Part One: The Oldest Profession by @thenightmarketofdathomir This writer is freaking legendary. I do not know the collection of words in my own language to describe the eloquence and sophistication this writer possesses. Just go. Go read this and you let me know if you're ever the same again. This gem stars our boy Feral and is a you/reader insert. Oh damn, this story makes me want things...
Birthday Wish, Romancing the Pages, The Write Seduction, To Create Life, by @jedianjakenobi Y'all, this author holds a special place in my writer's heart. She's a published author on Amazon and she's truly amazing. Her works are all Obi-Wan-centered and reader inserts. Birthday Wish is a birthday crush from your sexy neighbor, Romancing the Pages is a fake relationship/summer romance with a reclusive shy librarian (Ben) and a best-selling author, The Write Seduction is a professor Kenobi/writing student story and it is SPICY. And my favorite To Create Life is a Jedi Council green lights a baby-making program and who else is the reader paired with? Their good friend Padawan Kenobi. My darlings, my friends, if you like Obi-Wan smut then you are doing yourselves a disservice by NOT reading these.
Empty Me Out by @221bshrlocked reader insert/DOM Obi-Wan I'm tellin y'all this story NEARLY killed me. I've lost track of how many times I've readit. You're an entertainer and Master Kenobi needs information from you, so you give him what he wants and then he gives you what you want. Where it Wasn't massage therapy reader insert/Obi-Wan, do I need to say more? Pretty sure I melted into the floor with this one.
His Loving Satine by @waterlily707 I love reader insterT and OCs but these two Obi-Wan and Satine are a joy to read. Temporary paralyzed Obi-Wan at the "mercy" of a slightly dom Satine. Juicy, gorgeous, little bit of fluff. Love it.
Room 24 by @murdockussy Little angsty Obi-Wan/reader insert enemies to lovers in an undercover assignment-type situation. Spicy, dom Obi-Wan give. Me. More.
Tea with Lemon, Tea with Honey by @wickedscribbles an established relationship as a reader insert and Obi-Wan. If you want honey then you get to take care of a sick Obi-Wan and kind out you have a new kink, if you want Lemon then Obi-Wan takes advantage of said kink and whisks you away to another planet for some R&R under the guise of "work." Enjoy!
Actors/Characters
Ben Hardy
Hold Me Close, Don't Let Me Go by @stray-kaz God. This one shot is just sxy as hell, it's a Billy/Four fro, 6 Underground/Female Reader. Our boy comes home to one hell of an 'I missed you, I need you right now' welcome. GO read it. Right now.
Such an Experience by @rogermyreligionOk. Guys... FUCK, this is a hot little oneshot Roger Taylor of Queen/Female reader and OMG. Just go read it. I've officially stopped counting how many times I've read this. Smutty/Sexy. I'm dead.
Long Distance by @acciotwinzwinz. Y'ALL. Sit your asses down and read this Roger Taylor/Reader insert/You. It's fluffy, its sexy, its cute and the smut is -chefs kiss- Yes, I read this one a lot too.
For now, these are some of my favorites that I frequently reread because I love them. I'll probably be adding more, it's more than likely I've forgotten some...
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tarrenterror25 · 27 days
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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 💕
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chloe-skywalker · 2 months
Text
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
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“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
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Note
Any rogues react on their S/O, upon seeing someone trying to flirt with them, take said rogues and walk away with them, saying something like "I'm way too petty to share you with someone else"?
Aww, love jealous trope.
Too Pretty To Share
Black Mask
He just smirked when lady flirted with him, he knows he's a hot shot.
Was confused when S/O takes him away but when they say why he just laughs.
He agrees 100%. He grabs their hips and kisses their neck. Nothing to worry about, his eyes are the best prize.
Riddler
Once someone flirts with him he puffs like a peacock.
That is until S/O just drags him away. Hey-! What's happening.
Once he realizes they're jealous he has shit eating grin.
"I hate to admit it but you're right. I need to be with the prettiest one."
Mr Freeze
Confused by it, he doesn't really register it as flirting. Just thinks they're really friendly.
Asks if everything is alright, worried if something happened.
In this version S/O says they're too pretty to share him with anyone but Nora and Victor is confused.
They don't have to worry, he's not interested in anyone else.
BTAS Talia Al Ghul
She's used to people being interested in her, she even takes pride in it.
Asks if there's something S/O needs and hearing explanation she just laughs.
Oh her sweet habib albi, she would never choose another over them.
Just showers them in affection to prove it.
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apraxvalith · 6 months
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Excited to announce my commissions are open! Limited slots, 18+ only. Offering full color/monochrome NSFW illustrations and sketchpages. All relevant info is on my Carrd!
My pricing and tiers are located on my Commission Rates + Info page, along with my email, where you can contact me for commission inquiries!
If you're curious what I will l and won't draw, take a peek at my Terms and Conditions page - and feel free to ask via email if you're not sure! 💗
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The Gala
Pairing: Jason Todd (version unspecified) x F!Reader
Warnings: jealous Jason, jealous Dick (platonic), reader has a panic attack, mentions of crimes, make out session verging on smut but not quite, Jason and reader both have trauma
Word count: 4734
A/N: Here’s part 5 of Castle of Glass! Lot of characters being introduced in this one, though neither of the villains in this part are going to be the main villain of the series (I mean it’s a Jason series, there can only be one main villain). But anyway, I hope you like it!
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Ko-Fi
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“I’m off.” Y/N called as she walked towards the front door, her dress bag slung over one arm and the bag containing everything else she could need in the other hand.
“Bit early to be heading out, isn’t it?” Jason said from where he was lying on the sofa holding a book above him.
She turned to face him to find his blue eyes surveying her. “I’m gonna get ready at Dick’s. Means he doesn’t have to come here to pick me up. And I’m going to crash in his spare room tonight, so don’t worry about where I am when you get back from patrol.”
He frowned briefly before covering it with a smirk. “Don’t have too much fun.”
“God, do all of you siblings have the same thought process?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Honestly, I think you can blame Dick for that, sweetheart.” He smiled.
She shook her head with a smile, trying to ignore how the nickname always sent her heart stuttering. “The offer still stands for you to come too.”
He hesitated and she thought he might be considering it. “No, I’m good.”
She turned to face the door so he wouldn’t see her face fall. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, Jay.”
“See you.” He called as she walked out.
***
Y/N adjusted her dress for what felt like the hundredth time as she waited for Dick at the bottom of the Wayne Manor staircase after he had decided he didn’t like his tie and went to grab another from his old room. The dress fit like a glove, just like all the others he had brought her over the years when he needed her to come along as a cover, or required her skill set. But that didn’t mean she felt like she belonged. This world had never been hers, and no matter how many times she accompanied him to galas, it never got any easier.
“Ready?” Dick asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs and offered her his arm. He looked dashing in his tux with his dark hair styled away from his eyes for a change, and she was well aware that even though she was on his arm, people were going to be gushing over him all night.
She took a breath and linked her arm with his. “Not really.”
“Four hours, tops. I promise.” He said as he led the way through the winding corridors towards the ballroom.
“I’ve heard that before, Grayson.” She said under her breath as they reached the doors. He huffed out a quiet laugh and shot her a look, resting his hand on the door handle. She took a breath and nodded, and Dick opened the door.
They were swarmed by people as soon as they entered the room. As always, people wanted to talk to Dick; the charismatic oldest son of Bruce Wayne. Some people involved her in the conversation, complimenting her dress or asking her about how she had come to be on Dick Grayson’s arm, but she knew it was either to be polite, or to figure out how much of a threat she was to their prospects with him. She managed to endure about an hour of him dragging her around to meet different people before she took advantage of spotting Damian stood on his own in a corner.
“I’m going to check on Dami.” She whispered in Dick’s ear so the couple talking wouldn’t hear her.
“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on the mark.” He whispered back, pressing a kiss to her cheek as a cover.
“Excuse me.” She smiled at the couple and squeezed Dick’s arm before walking away.
Damian looked miserable as he tried to stay out of sight over in the corner of the ballroom. She couldn’t have imagined anything worse when she was twelve years old.
“Not having fun?” She asked as she came to a stop next to him.
“Father wouldn’t let me bring Alfred.” He said, glancing up at her briefly before looking towards Dick, who in her absence had had a gaggle of people descend on him.
She hoped he meant Alfred the cat, although she doubted this would be actual Alfred’s scene either. “Well, Dick wouldn’t let me bring my computer so I know how you feel.” She smiled when it caused the corner of his mouth to tug up. “Who else is here besides you?”
“Father, Stephanie, and Tim.” He told her before his eyes darted between her and Dick again. “You and Dick are working.”
It wasn’t a question, so she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. “Would I be here if we weren’t?”
“No, I suppose not.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“But I’m not telling you what we’re doing, Dick made me promise not to tell anyone else.” Jason didn’t count, she told herself.
“Please. I am bored.” He stuck his bottom lip out.
She chuckled. “Not happening, Dami.” She ruffled his hair as he huffed and started pouting.
Until something caught his attention. “What is Todd doing here?”
Y/N’s heart seemed to stop as she turned to follow Damian’s gaze, and sure enough, Jason was stood awkwardly in the main entrance to the ballroom. He was wearing a tux that fit his large form perfectly, clinging to him in all the right places, and his hair was perfectly styled for the first time since she had met him. He looked incredible, and all she wanted to do was cross the room and kiss him.
“I might have invited him.” She told Damian, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry.
“You and Todd do not like each other.” Damian said, narrowing his eyes once again.
“We’ve got to know each other.” She said, watching as Jason walked further into the room, his eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. “I better go save him, he looks a bit lost.”
She didn’t wait for Damian to answer, well aware that the kid was watching her every move as she navigated the crowd towards where Jason was standing with his back to her and a glass of champagne in his hand. “Thought this wasn’t your scene?”
He turned to face her, his eyes dragging down her body before moving back up to meet her eyes. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, well, my roommate invited me and I didn’t want to force her to spend the night with Gotham’s rich pricks with only my brother for company.”
“Well, I’m sure she greatly appreciates that.” She smiled.
“She better.” He said, downing his drink and then returning her smile.
She raised her eyebrows. “You planning on getting hammered?”
He stepped forward, so no one could overhear him. “One of the few perks of the pit, it takes a lot of alcohol to get me drunk now.”
She struggled to keep her eyes on his with him standing so close to her. “Dance with me?”
His eyes flickered behind her, where quite a few people were dancing in the centre of the room. “Only to piss Dick off.”
“Why would you dancing with me piss Dick off?” She asked as she took his hand and led him into the middle of the dancefloor. He took her hand in his and rested the other on her waist as she rested hers on his shoulder.
“You’re telling me you’ve never noticed how protective he is over his friends.” He whispered as he started leading in time with the music. “You should have seen the way he reacted the first time I met Roy.”
“I can’t say I’ve noticed.” She said with a smile, making sure she wasn’t going to step on his feet in her heels. Jason could dance, he led her effortlessly across the dance floor. He had clearly learnt while living with Bruce, and she wondered if it was any harder now he had practically tripled in size.
He was clearly thinking about her dancing ability too. “This isn’t the first gala you’ve been to, is it?”
“No. Whenever Dick needs a cover, really doesn’t want to be bored, or needs my skillset, I have to endure being his date for an evening.” She said as he spun them around. Speak of the devil, the new angle meant she could see Dick over Jason’s shoulder. His mouth was hanging open slightly as he stared at them. “Speaking of, he’s currently staring at us.”
Jason spun them back the other way and she watched his mouth twist up into a wolfish grin as he winked in Dick’s direction.
“Now you’re just trying to piss him off.”
“Got to have some fun sometimes, sweetheart.” He said, before ducking down to speak directly into her ear. “Has he swiped the guy’s phone yet?”
She followed his lead and leant forward, speaking in hushed whispers into his ear. “Not yet, but he’s keeping an eye on him for when the opportunity presents itself.”
“Which one of these assholes is the mark then?” He swung them past another couple who were getting a bit too close.
She scanned the room before turning him in the right direction. “Full black tux, red carnation in his button hole.” She felt his entire body tense up as he spotted the right man, his muscles curling as if he was going to launch himself across the room. She tightened her grip on him subconsciously, unwilling to be the reason Dick didn’t get what he needed.
“That’s Roman Sionis.” His voice dropped further and took on a venomous edge.
“I know, he’s a mob boss. Me and Dick have been tracking him for a while now. He’s moving into arms, we think-”
Jason cut her off, pulling her closer against him as he continued leading them through the other couples. “He’s not just a mob boss, Y/N. He’s Black Mask.”
She pulled back so she could look at him, finding worry and anger burning in his ice blue eyes. “How do you know that?”
He clenched his jaw before sucking a breath in through his teeth. “When I first got back and was trying to establish myself, I did a few jobs for him. He’s worse than most of the other fuckers, and he’s not just into arms, its human trafficking as well.”
“All the more reason to bring him down then.”
His hand on her hip shifted to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. “He’s dangerous, Y/N. Really dangerous.”
“Me and Dick have been doing this a long time, Jason. We have strategies in place if something goes wrong. It’ll be fine.” She slid her hand up his shoulder and cupped his jaw to get him to look at her. He reluctantly dragged his eyes over from Sionis and once he met hers she could see that the outside of his irises were tinged green. "Jay-”
“Mind if I cut in.” Dick practically shoved himself in between them and sent a scathing glance at Jason over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Dickhead, I’m not trying to steal your best friend.” Jason took a step back and met Y/N’s eyes again. “If you need me, I’ll be by the bar.”
She watched him walk off and hoped that meant he wasn’t going to get involved. She turned back to Dick, who had already started tugging her towards one of the exit doors that led to the bathrooms. “You get it?”
He nodded and held the door open for her, following quickly behind as she walked through. He did the same for the bathroom door and locked it behind them. He handed over the phone as she reached into her bra and pulled out the small memory stick hidden in the sewn in pocket. She plugged it into the charging port and clicked through the prompts on the screen before placing it down.
“How long?” Dick asked, looking over her shoulder as the upload bar appeared.
“Ten minutes, tops.” She turned around and pushed herself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “Perfect amount of time to pretend we snuck away for a quickie in the bathroom.”
He snorted and leant back against the wall across from her with his arms crossed. “You want to tell me why you were dancing with my brother?”
“I wasn’t aware I couldn’t.” She said with a smile.
“You don’t like Jason.” He pointed out.
She resisted the urge to laugh. “Incorrect. I didn’t use to like Jason.”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know, might have had something to do with the fact you dumped him on me for four days when he could barely walk. Oh yeah, and then he saved my life.” She watched Dick’s expression and snorted. “I can’t believe he was right.”
“Right about what?”
“That you’re very protective over your friends and think he’s trying to steal them.” She smiled wider as he somehow managed to look even more offended. “It’s alright, Dickie, you’re still my best friend.”
“I better be.” He said with a pout. “He is closer to your age than I am though.”
“Seriously Dick, we’re not in high school anymore, your friends don’t all have to be the same age as you.” She smiled and glanced down at the phone to see it was halfway done. “We better make it look like we did sneak away for a quickie and have tried to hide the evidence.”
“Yeah, we better.” He said with a sigh before running his hands through his perfectly styled hair to ruffle it up. She followed suit, jumping down from the side and using the mirror to carefully mess up her own hairstyle to make it look like it had been pulled out and hastily put back together. He loosened his tie and undid the second button as she dropped her dress more off one shoulder than the other. She slightly smudged her lipstick on one corner of her mouth and had an idea.
“Come here.” She said and he turned to look at her with a confused expression. She tugged him forward by his lapel and dragged her bottom lip on the edge of his shirt collar. She pulled back and admired the slight drag of colour against the stark white.
“Good thinking. I’d give you a hickey but I think then Jason might kill me.” He said as he looked at the mark she had left.
Her lips parted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you seriously not notice the way he was looking at you when you started dancing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jason look at someone that way. I think my baby brother has a crush.” His blue eyes lit up with mischief and not for the first time she wondered how him and Jason weren’t actually related.
“I think you’re seeing things, Nightwing. You did hit your head pretty hard last night.” She unplugged the memory stick and stashed it back in its pocket before handing the phone back to Dick.
“My head is fine.” The pout was back.
“C’mon, I need another drink.” She unlocked the bathroom door and grabbed his hand before dragging him back towards the ballroom.
It seemed like all eyes turned to them as they walked back in, so it wasn’t hard for her to look sheepish and him to plaster on his signature smile. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side as he led them towards an empty spot in a corner.
“He’s by the bar, I’ll slip his phone back while I get you a drink.” He said.
“I hate this part.” She muttered as people continued staring.
He ducked down and pressed a kiss under her ear as part of the show. “I know. Half an hour to avoid suspicion and then we’ll leave. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Grayson.” She said, and watched as he walked away.
She scanned the crowd for familiar faces and found Bruce talking to a group of people with his hand firmly on Damian’s shoulder, probably to stop his youngest from bolting for the exit, Steph was dancing with a guy around her age Y/N didn’t recognise, and Tim was sat huddled up with Bernard. She was so preoccupied with looking for people she knew, that a hand on her hip made her jump out of her skin. She turned around and resisted the urge to smack Jason’s chest.
“The lipstick on his collar was a nice touch.” He said, moving to perch on the edge of the table in front of her.
“Yeah, well, we had to make it look believable.” She said, glancing over to where Dick was standing at the bar.
“You used this as a cover before?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
She sighed. “Couple of times. He’s a known womanizer, remember, so it’s expected.”
He snorted before glaring at something behind her. “Demon spawn.”
“Todd.” Damian said.
“Hey, that’s mean.” She turned to Jason and whacked his arm. He narrowed his eyes at Damian, who was looking smug at her coming to his defence. She turned back to face Damian. “Everything okay?”
“Father won’t let me leave.” He complained.
“Why’s that our problem? Go bug someone else.” Jason scowled.
“Jay!” She shot a glare his way.
“You should be glad Y/N was kind enough to invite you, no one else would have.” Damian shot back.
Y/N resisted the urge to just go and join Dick at the bar. “Can you two not get long for five minutes? I mean, you both probably have more in common than any of your other siblings.” She fixed her gaze on Jason.
“Fine.” Jason finally said moving his eyes towards Damian. “Truce?”
“Only for Y/N’s sake.” Damian nodded his head once.
“Thank you.” She said before turning back to Damian. “How’s school going?”
Damian got straight to complaining about already knowing everything they had to teach him, only requiring the occasional prompt or hum of agreement from Y/N or Jason. Dick seemed to have been distracted at the bar by an old friend, so she assumed she wasn’t getting another drink. She was considering just going to get one herself when Damian stopped mid-sentence.
“What is he doing here?” Damian said it like it was a personal offence, so both Y/N and Jason turned to look at the door.
Y/N’s heart stopped and she found herself fighting to get air into her lungs. Lex Luthor was standing in the main entrance to the ballroom, two men flanking him who were clearly bodyguards. She swore she could feel the knife tearing into her skin again as Jason practically growled and shot to his feet as if he was going to run straight across the room and tackle Luthor. She reached out and grabbed his arm before he could get too far away from her.
“Jay.” She choked out as her breathing became more erratic.
He spun to face her, his eyes immediately softening. “Fuck, okay. Let’s get you out of here.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and started leading her towards the door her and Dick had entered through two hours ago. By the time they reached it, her knees were so weak he was practically holding her up. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and practically carried her up the stairs into the main body of the manor. Her thoughts were too jumbled to pay any attention to where he was taking her, but he seemed to realise that, as he didn’t try and say anything. He hesitated briefly outside of a door, so briefly she barely noticed, before he pushed it open and walked inside.
He gently set her down on the edge of a bed and dropped to his knees in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands, simultaneously forcing her to look at him and allowing him to wipe away the tears that had started streaming down her face with his thumbs. His hands were softer than she was expecting, and she raised hers to circle his wrists, resting her fingers over his pulse point and feeling the steady beat.
“You’re okay.” He said softly. “He’s not going to hurt you again, I promise.”
“What’s he doing here?” She asked as her breathing finally started to even back out.
He sighed. “I don’t know. But Bruce won’t be happy he is, and I don’t think Bruce will let him stay.”
She nodded and pulled back from him slightly, but still kept her hands wrapped around his as she moved them from her face. Her vision had started to clear, allowing her to finally take a look around the room they were in. It was clearly the room of a teenage boy; posters littered the walls, a record player and a stack of vinyls sat in one corner, a tv and a bunch of DVDs in the other. The bedside table was covered in old magazines and the bookcase on the far wall was crammed with paperback and hardbacks alike.
He noticed her looking and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. “This- this was my childhood room. Barely anyone comes in here now, so I knew we’d be left alone.”
She stood on shaky legs and walked over to the book case. He had a small book case in his apartment, but it didn’t have nearly as many books on it as this one did. As far as she knew, most of the books she had seen him reading came from the public library around the corner from his apartment. She heard Jason move and when she looked back, he was sat on the bed watching her.
“I knew you liked to read, but damn, you could have started your own library.”
He chuckled and laid back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “You sound like Alfred.”
She walked back over and laid down next to him, hands so close together that either one of them could shift slightly and tangle their fingers together.
“You know, the worst part is, I don’t even think Luthor would know who I was. I mean, he’s tried to have me tortured and killed twice, but I bet I was nothing more than a name on a piece of paper.” She whispered, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.
He shifted his hand, wrapping his pinkie around hers hesitantly. “Men like him are worth nothing. If Bruce wasn’t downstairs and I had my helmet, I’d put a bullet between his eyes before he could blink.”
She turned her head to the side to find him already looking at her and squeezed her pinkie around his. “You were right about Dick, by the way. He was jealous.”
“Is that so?” His face broke into a grin.
She hummed. “Seems to think that because me and you are closer in age I’m going to trade him in for the younger model.” She smiled when he laughed. “Why did you come tonight?”
“I already told you.” He whispered, dropping his gaze from hers again.
“Jay.” She said softly.
“You were right when you suggested it, I need to start trying more. I can’t keep blaming everyone else for not trying, when I’m not either.” He admitted. They laid in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “You know, teenage me would be ecstatic if he could see me now, lying in this bed with a pretty girl.”
“You’re telling me you weren’t popular with the ladies in high school with this pretty face.” She shifted forward slightly and ran a finger along his chiselled jaw.
He leaned into her touch “You know I died at fifteen, right? And I was a pretty scrawny kid before that.”
“I think teenage me would have been into teenage you.” She whispered.
“Really?”
“I mean, from the looks of this room, you were just the right level of nerd.” She smiled.
“And what about now?” He breathed out, subconsciously shifting forward until there was only an inch or so between them.
“I don’t think current you is half bad either.” All it took was his eyes flickering down to look at her lips for her to close the gap between them. His lips were soft against hers as he responded almost immediately. She turned her body into him as he did the same, brushing her fingers along his cheek before she tangled her hand in his curls as he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. The broke apart briefly, eyes searching each other for some form of hesitancy before he surged forward and kissed her again.
His hands moved to her hips and he pulled her on top of him with an ease that took her breath away. Sometimes she forgot how much the pit had actually enhanced him, on top of the muscles he worked for himself.
He sat up, keeping his lips on hers as he shifted her so she was straddling his lap. She buried her hands in his hair and tugged, causing him to groan and part his lips so she could deepen the kiss. She pressed herself closer to him as his hands moved up from her hips to knead at her chest through her dress. He swallowed the noises she made easily as she kept one hand in his hair and moved the other to start loosening his tie.
That’s when he finally seemed to realise what he was doing because his whole body went rigid and he gently pushed her back. “Fuck- I-I’m sorry. Fuck. I c-can’t do this. I’m sorry.” His eyes were glassy and her lipstick was smeared all around his lips.
“It’s okay.” She whispered, quickly clambering off of him to sit on the bed again. She adjusted her dress to cover her properly again as he struggled to get his breathing back under control.
He stood from the bed, looking anywhere but her. “I’ll send Dick up. You can go home with him as planned.” He wiped at his mouth with his sleeve as he walked out, leaving her staring after him.
She pulled herself together enough to stumble into the ensuite bathroom to try and sort her face out before Dick arrived. Her lipstick was smeared all around her lips and tear tracks were visible in the foundation on her cheeks, but luckily she had the foresight to wear waterproof eye make-up, so at least she didn’t have to deal with mascara everywhere. She wiped off the lipstick, but knew even if she took the rest of her make-up off, Dick would be able to tell she had been crying from how red her eyes were.
“Y/N?” Dick called as the bedroom door was pushed open.
She took a deep breath to steel herself and then walked out of the bathroom. “Hey.”
“You okay?” He asked, taking in her appearance.
She nodded, biting her lip as she tried to figure out what to say. “What happened with Luthor?”
“Bruce nearly lost it, I honestly thought he was going to go full on Batman on Luthor’s ass, but he stopped himself. He had him escorted out because he didn’t have a ticket. I think Luthor only showed up to gloat about a bad business deal though.” Dick said. “Jason seemed… off, I mean, more than normal. Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “Other than me having a panic attack on him, no.”
He nodded. “Must be the room then, I think this is probably the first time he’s actually been back in here since he got back.”
“Oh.” Her heart clenched painfully and she tried not to think about what had just happened. “Can we leave now?” She asked, her voice breaking.
Dick didn’t hesitate to walk forward and wrap his arms around her. She screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in his shoulder. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go.” But he didn’t actually move until she did. He squeezed her arms before taking her hand and leading her through the corridors to his car.
Part 6
Taglist: @fives-coffee-cup @xnorthstar3x​ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @literally-a-ferret
(shoot me a message to be added/removed)
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drasin · 2 months
Text
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Let everyone stare, they don't care.
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hereticpriest · 1 month
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Masterlist
MDNI
Series
Mercy
Rating: Explicit 18+
Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.
Read on AO3
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Nine Point Five - Part Ten -
Miniseries
Bite - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia
Chew - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite
Oneshots
The Bath - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft cockwarming
Pyrrhic - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft 14k of HYDRA being the worst and Helmut Zemo being a consent king
Requests and Prompts
Reader likes to come up behind Zemo and kiss or bite him
Roman Sionis fucking reader in his club and being a show off about it (and also he's a total switch)
Roman Sionis making female reader cockwarm him during a gang meeting
Obi-Wan Kenobi noticing female reader's tattoos after sex and pausing to enjoy them
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Happy Valentine’s Day :) Can I please request a love letter from Black Mask who’s on a business trip and misses his fiancée? Maybe a little nsfw because he’s so possessive. Thank you ❤️.
"Lonely Nights" Black Mask x Reader Love Letter (Valentine's 2024 Event)
Fuck yes you can! So much Black Mask love from you guys this year. This ask is for the ongoing Valentine's Day Event!
TW: NSFW
The letter looks to be written on printer paper, creased in threefold to fit inside the envelope. The writing itself is an articulate cursive, indicating someone who was taught to write in the style from a young age. Standard black ink from a ballpoint pen. Some of the curves and loops showed ink running out. A coffee stain on the bottom of the page.
(Your name),
I miss you something awful. I can't fucking stand that I can't call you whenever. Sure you do too. It's to keep us both safe, know that. Cold here. Keep thinking about waking up next to you and warming my hands between your legs. Then all I've got is hard wood and you won't leave my mind.
It's not just the sex I keep thinking about. It's the smell of you, the way you laugh at my dumb jokes. I want to hear your voice. I get so pissed off, I keep waiting to feel your hand on my shoulder telling me it'll be okay. Get jealous sometimes thinking of anybody trying to move in while I'm gone. You'd never I trust you It's dumb I get worried about it with you.
You'd tell me. And when you did tell me, I'd just have to make sure everybody fucking knows you're mine when I get back. Would you like that? Can't let there be slack just because I miss you.
Sides all that, it's boring as fuck out here. I'll be back in a week if everything goes okay.
Love you
Roman
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urmoonlightbebe · 10 months
Text
COME MY WAY MOULIN ROUGE AU!💋 JASON TODD X FEM!READER
CHAPTER ONE; THE RED VIXEN.
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summary: MOULIN ROUGE!Inspired, a love story oh so great. but breaks the hearts of those you follow. y/n, an underground burlesque dancer is visited by a well known crime boss. a special gift for him. and just as that gift is about to be given, Jason is there too for his oldest brother’s birthday. he grows more intrigued of y/n, wanting to be around her more and more.
author’s note: hi my loves, binx here. so i took a little break from my other jason x reader story and wrote this. my playlist started playing ‘EL TANGO DE ROXANNE’ from moulin rouge. this movie is so good, I recommend it if you love tragic love stories with red aesthetics with some singing in it. and since jason is still my hubby, why not write this? will warn, i did change some things so it won’t really be as MOULIN ROUGE.
pairing: jason todd (red hood ) x fem!reader, roman sionis x fem! reader (in the future) OC characters x reader.
❗️❗️mentions//tw; drinking, nudity, mentions of prostitution, implied sex, men being creeps, mentions of selling body, sickness, minor blood, paying for sex
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in the deep’s of the infamous city, gotham, stands a club. a club where men and women go to join for dancing, sex, love and music. and in that club, is the clubs most prized beauty. her name was y/n. what only members would call her was the enchantress of love. why you may ask? so many suitors and ‘lovers’ would ask her hand in marriage or a relationship. but all fail as y/n would reject. not interested in love.
love was a discipline. it was cruel. painful.
but not far from where y/n laid on her plush red covered bed, was a man. inside the ‘iceberg lounge’. everyone knows him by different names. one may know him as the infamous red hood.
the vigilante who was well known for making it very clear, gotham is becoming his territory slowly. protecting children and the homeless. protecting innocent lives left in the dark city. and some, known him as Jason Todd.
the boy who ‘faked’ his death and has been alive for a long time. some parts of that is true. only he did die but came back to life, with a fractured memory. one that couldn’t be healed. he too thought love was CRUEL. but, he didn’t know what love was like with someone else. jason does know, it was cruel. painful. especially for a life like him. he lied, murdered, to do what he had to do.
tonight, he sat in his leather chair that once belonged to the villain would waddled, the penguins.
he smoked his cigarette as he heard the booming speakers going off downstairs. flashing lights flickering. a bottle and clear cup of whiskey laying on his desk. paper work scattered.
he was alone. she was alone as well.
a story between two lovers. one so oh tragic. yet so beautiful.
a monday morning was blasting cold of the autumn weather. wind was picking up in the city. in an luxury apartment that was a well known neighborhood, somewhat good. somewhat bad. just in between. a white persian cat lays next to the window, around the kitty’s neck is a collar in diamonds. the cat’s name imprinted on it. SATINE. a gift from a random man who claimed his love for the owner of such cat.
SATINE, flicked her head. meowing loudly, getting up from her position. she runs off to find the clad in white figure laying on the dark satin red bed.
white fur jumps on the bed, tiny paws sits on top of the figure. a groan comes out in annoyance. loud meow in protest of it being past feeding. a thick mask of satin covers the eyes, lips plump. a manicured hand pulls off the mask, thick eyelashes kiss her cheeks. “satine, off now”, the woman insists to the kitty laying on top of her.
the cat stared back at her with blue jeweled eyes like sapphire.
flick of a tail till the expensive cat purred. the woman on the bed is y/n. a long time burlesque dancer, working nights and during the day is sleeping beauty. last night was a long night, especially when men do not know how to keep their grubby hands off of her.
y/n sighs in defeat, as a normally a pose to the spoiled cat, might as get up in the morning. her light pink manicure nails run through the silky white fur. “you spoiled kitty you are”, she purred back.
picking up SATINE, y/n places her on the left of her on the bed. a large yawn and a stretch makes y/n groan in delight of the feeling. feeling around her bed for her phone, she picks it up and sees the time. 11:34 a.m.
it was too early.
her form gets up from the satin bed, on her body was a white lace night-gown. it fitted around her breasts, the bottom flows breathlessly. giving her room for some air when she slept.
as she stands, slight dizziness takes over her form. a hiss of pain and uncomfortableness. steadying herself while gripping her silver antique louis XV gilt craved grey dressing vanity. one she had restored herself. in the giant middle mirror, she sees her state. slight bags under her eyes. hair slightly tousled. how tired she was. none stop working of dancing, drinking and singing. sighing in defeat knowing tonight was more important than anything for her. she sucked in her breath and her feeling of sickness. y/n marched to her bathroom.
the enormous bathroom was a wine color along some black painted on one wall. a chandelier hangs from the ceiling. a portrait of the legend Marilyn Monroe hanged near the sink. porcelain bathtub lays in the middle of the room and a black fur rug lays on each side. a single shower a few feet away.
doing her business after she had awoken. y/n washes her face in the sink with skincare products sprawled across the black counter. her fingers dabbled gently across her skin. using warm water to wash the extra product down the drain. patting her skin dry with a clean towel. leaving the bathroom was SATINE awaiting the dancer.
meows of protest as her white tail trails up, y/n and SATINE walk towards the bathroom and out to the kitchen. a rumble of her stomach spoke of hunger. quickly, she walks to the microwave was. opening the microwave door, inside lays leftover mashed potatoes and steak with steam broccoli.
shut the door, pressing a few digits on the machine. a dimmed light inside and the food was rotating, heating up.
more meows of a reminder, causing y/n roll her eyes at the very persistent kitty. the same kitty that stayed awake with her all those nights ago.
“alright love, im going”, she says. a finger reaches down to the soft patch of hair, rubbing gently. up on the black cabinets, was a packet of wet cat food. one SATINE oh so loved. y/n grabs one, salmon. her fingers rip open the packaging and lays the tin of food on the floor for the hungry creature.
a chirp of ‘thank you’ before digging in the salmon food. the smell of meat and starch fill the kitchen. DING! y/n opens the microwave, quickly grabbing the leftovers into her hands. a girl got to eat.
when jason got up today, he felt the coldness on the bed. the lack of warmth never has been found. always the same in the morning. just coldness. ready to start the day as a normal person. tonight was an important day. it was dick’s birthday. a celebration of him being old. a reminder to buy a gift for his older ‘brother’. the apartment he was in, was in the same neighborhood he grew up knowing all too well. you could say, he knew where his roots lyes.
getting up from his bed, jason stomps uncontrollably as he awaits to empty his bladder. men have bladders sensitive as to not get kidney stones.
brushing his teeth lazily, jason stares at his reflection in the cracked mirror. he was blessed to never get bags under his eyes but one flaw he sees, is the scar. of a J. it was faded. but he could perfectly see it. a big,healthy reminder who did it to him.
his mouth spits in the sink, cupping the running water into his calloused hands. spitting out the mouth water.
as jason got done with his ‘morning rountine’, he walked out his bathroom to his bedroom. his bed was messy. sheets unmade. sometimes he missed when alfred would help him make his bed as a kid. jason sighs as he sees how messy in general his room was, his whole apartment.
the cracked personal phone of his lays on his bed. messages flying in and out. buzz after buzz. his hand picks it up and sees who was texting. a few were from roy, tim, garfield, connor, and wally.
a group chat of what tonight’s events take place.
with ridiculous memes and remarks jason doesn’t understand, he shuts his phone off throwing it back on the unmade bed.
not feeling as hungry as he is right now, he switched to drinking some cheap coffee he had bought. wasn’t at all bad. could be better.
❣️⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆❣️
y/n sat in the yellow cab, she adorned a black cashmere turtle neck dress with a dark brown belt. leather knee high boots to compliment her outfit more. a simple black fur coat keeping her warm. her CHANEL tote purse sat on top of red drawing book. the material was leather and had neon color bookmarks sticking out. she watched as the cab drove through different parts of gotham in the day. the city was always gloomy, rare occasions it was a sunny day. a familiar cafe comes into her view. y/n gathered her materials, bag in one arm and her book clutched to her chest. “thank you bobby”, she climbs out of the cab slamming the yellow door.
“no problem ms. y/n. see you this friday.” he answers back with a wave.
her black clad figure walks to the clear entrances of the cafe called ROUGE CAFE. one classic places found in the city. a place where y/n had some alone time from pondering voices. a man, vincent, greeted her with a tilt of his hat. his white gloves clasped against the gold railings. the smell of fresh coffee and treats fills her nostrils.
boots clacked against the polished marbled floors. a few regulars y/n would see gave her a nod or a smile before carrying on. as she walked, she sees her favorite hidden spots she always sat at. grateful today no one was occupying it. the booths were a white fabric with gold stitching, it was stuffed with the finest plush. placing herself on the booth seat, scooting to sit in the very middle.
a manicured hand runs a finger through her last night’s hair which was curled but now wavy as of her sleeping.
her red leather book lays itself on the marble table facing her. Chanel purse sits on top of her lap. coming in is a waitress, young and dressed with a regular white button up shirt and some black slacks. as she walks up to y/n with her hands behind her back, a slight bow as she greets the mistress. “good evening ms. l/n, will you be having your regular for this afternoon?”, she asks politely.
y/n looked up at the young girl with a kind smile, “yes please diane”.
diane, y/n’s regular waitress that always brought out her treats on the days she always arrives to find some time for herself. one that didn’t bother her or judge her on her base of income. a sweet girl she is. a hand reaches into her tote purse, grabbing her gucci wallet that was red with with a gold heart in the middle. unclasping the heart, she opens the wallet and flips through the money slit. her pink manicured finger grips a twenty dollar bill just as diane comes back with a tray of y/n’s regular treats. “here you go ms”, diane says as she places a white porcelain plate that had powered sugar croissant filled with beige cream and fresh strawberries. a silver tea kettle and a floral design cup.
“thank you once again diane”, y/n thanks the young girl handing the twenty dollar bill to her. diane lightly grabs it before nodding as a ‘thank you’ and trotting off.
the red leather book opens to sketches of drawings of female body shapes designed with dark colors. different hairstyle and outfits drawn with patience and passion. y/n flips through the heavy pages, before landing on an empty white canvas. pulling out from her heavy set tote, y/n takes out some expensive markers and pencils. carefully setting them down on the marble table.
her focus was on book, gracelessly sketching a woman dressed in an 1950s dress with a fur shawl. inspired by the great Marilyn Monroe’s attire from one of her movie premieres. a quick cursive write next to the drawing. ‘material: satin. make sure the satin is exclusive from dante”.
continuing on her sketches, a vibration buzzed from her purse. y/n jumps slightly, quickly digging into the vintage tote. searching for the rectangle shaped phone, pulling out the bedazzled phone. on the screen reads ‘harry’, her pink painted thumb presses the green call button.
her phone pressed against her ear. “harry love, i see you couldnt wait for me to be there tonight”, she purred.
“ah y/n! my little red vixen. I do hope you don’t mind. but we need you here soon for the fitting. it’s an very important day”, he stung out the word ‘day’ in excitement.
harry j. winston. one of her close friends and the one who is practically like her manager. but only in the club. how she adores him. he was like family to her. only family really. everyone in the club gave her a home and food to eat when she was young. mentally, y/n sighed. a break she surely needed. but to only appease harry, she agrees. “ohhh, well alright harry. I’ll see you in fifteen”, she bids a goodbye to the older man.
“see you soon darling”.
in the mirror, y/n turned herself around twice before shaking her head in disappointment. “too tight. my breasts look more like they are suffocating than being sexy”, she huffed out. the tailors nodded agreeing to her words. immediately going to reach to her, they touched her soft skin and the corset pressed firmly to her breasts. almost like a cage. the costume was beautiful. but felt tacky on her skin. it was jeweled of the finest jewels gifted to her from harry. the attire was white beige color with the jewels sewed in, garter belts along. nude colored stockings clipped in.
“what wig would you wear madam?”, one of the tailors had questioned her as she looks up at the dancer.
the other was behind her, fixing her breasts in the bra. “the beach blonde love. do think it fits the costume well”, she picks pointing to the neatly styled wig sitting on the mannequin head. a firm nod.
“should we make your nails red madam?”, the tailor behind her asked finally adjusting the bra and corset. y/n looks down at her kitty pink nails, holding it in front of her thinking to herself in the decision. she nods firmly getting down from the stool. “yes, vixen should be the right color for this”, she says making her way to the vanity that holds her items on it.
“vixen is your color darlin’”, a sudden familiar voice speaks behind her. y/n gasps at the sight of her friend, harry j. winston. the man was a chubbier man. he always adored a mustache, his signature look. he had red hair and always wore a red button up jacket making him look like a nutcracker “harry!”, y/n exclaims as she jumps up to hug him.
the two hug before pulling away from each other. “you look fabulous my vixen!”, he compliments her grabbing her hand turning her around to look at the costume on her skin.
y/n teasingly gave a smile for playfully courtesy him. “why thank you my dear friend harry. what do I owe the pleasure with her presence today and not tonight?”, she asks harry with her hands on her hips.
“well, apparently we are having a fully packed night tonight. sionis too as you already know. whoever bids to have you tonight, gets a night with you…alone”, he says walking over to the stool she once stood.
that wasn’t the deal at all.
y/n’s eyes widen in shock at the sudden change in plans. her hair shakes in protest, “absolutely not! you said-“ “I know..I know what I said. but y/n this will be good for you and the club”, he tried to reason with her. her hands rub her temples lightly as to calm her down. it wasn’t unusual for men to pay for her advanced, but for a crime boss in different. completely different. and when she refused, names fly out ‘whore’ ‘tramp’ ‘slut’. in fact, she had a choice whether or not to say no or yes. but tonight she didn’t. “why do I have to? can one of the girls do it?”, she tries to bargain to harry who shook his head.
“we in fact can’t use one of the girls y/n. sionis wants to see you. this can be your ticket to be on top!” harry says.
“but I want to be on top on my own. not because of a man. if sionis wants me he has to pay higher than anyone else”, y/n spoke crossing her arms in protest. roman sionis, the most dangerous man in Gotham wants to buy her. disgusting pig he is. “if someone does buy you higher than him, than you can be with someone else tonight darling. just think about the good this can be”, he says with remorse. as much as he loved y/n and sees her as his daughter, there was times he couldn’t. a manager he was.
y/n sighs as she goes to sit on the velvet chair by her vanity. her elbow hits the metal, placing her chin on her hand. oh she was going to definitely think about.
jason sat in the driver’s seat, he drove dick’s car as the grown man suggested he should sit in the passenger seat because he is ‘the birthday boy’. speaking of the birthday boy, he was already drunk enough. already drank himself before jason had even arrived. in the back seat is his replacement, ‘tim’, roy, wally, conner and garfield. who were excited or drunk. tonight, all the men went out to a bar to have some drinks before dick blurted out that he set a night out to a burlesque club called ‘VALCYTE SPICE : THE MOULIN ROUGE’. ah, yes. the famous club full of dancers, sex and people to tell their secrets in. jason wasn’t familiar with burlesque, understanding it was an art form of sexy confident woman dancing and having fun. but to his understanding, this club was different now when the old owner died and gave it to someone else for ownership. it was gotham. everyone has their secrets and love for drugs. and sex.
when jason gained ownership to the ‘iceberg lounge’, he heard from many clients that he should visit the club. that a special woman performs and was ‘amazing in bed’. a red vixen.
she was the beauty of the burlesque club. always having men line up for her.
he wasn’t interested what so ever. sure he was curious to know what she looked like but that was about it. “oh man, you guys! this is going to be so much fun! one of my buddy’s told me to go here, said she is amazing and beautiful!”, dick slurred as he dazed at jason who was rolling his eyes.
“well, she better be a red head if she’s called a red vixen for starters. us red head’s are the best”, roy speaks as he took a bite out of his sandwich he randomly bought.
“well I don’t know what she looks like, but I swear I saw one of my buds from the station was in LOVE with her”, dick longs out the word ‘love’ in exaggeration. he was very interested in going for whatever reason. ever since him and starfire took a break, he has been…sad more often. jason remember when dick came to his apartment crying to him about his ex outlaw member.
jason spots the bright lights of the club, the big words of
‘VALCYTE SPICE: MOULIN ROUGE!’
lights of red and yellow-orange light bulbs light up the sign perfectly. “THERE IT IS!’, dick drunken yells of seeing the enormous sign before him. many people coming in and out, walking onto the streets. men in fancy suits and old, women clinging to them in desperation with the tightest clothing. makeup complimented their looks. what caught his eye is the color of pink and red feathers in their hairs. some of them had pink only.
“I just saw a lady flash a dude…”, tim says as he shifts uncomfortably as he saw a woman flash her boobs out while watching from a window.
it took a while for jason to find a legal parking spot, the night was still young. too young.
guessing he has a whole night off for himself. as he climbed out of the car, slamming the door. jason quickly jogged over to where dick to go and help him stay up and try to be sober. “aw jason my baby brother”, dick says as he himself wraps an arm jason. his arm fitting around his big shoulders.
the taller man wraps his muscular arm around dick’s waist to keep him up, all of them heading to the entrance of the club. a bouncer opens the door politely, jason giving him a nod as a ‘thank you’. heading inside, it smelt of musk and heavy perfume. laughs and shouting coming from different directions. the club was huge. like an opera house almost.
and most importantly, it was very red. it was dimmed lighted, materials of velvet on the walls and in the middle jason could see there was a wooden planks as dancers swing their dresses with delight.
“now this..is a club. no offense jason”, roy compliments the place slapping his hand on jason’s back. jason grunted in response searching for a booth to sit at. that was until a woman comes in view in front of them. “ah gentlemen! welcome to the moulin rouge! im madam violet des moines, what pleasures can I give to you?”, she purrs out to them.
madam violet des moines, a thin older woman in her early 40s. her hair was a light brown that had a blonde steak on one side. eyes greener than a monster. a mole on her cheek. she was rather attractive. the madam always keeps up with her diets and looks, she always taught her girls to do so to look young till the day they die. she was the same one who taught the ‘red vixen’.
dick shoves jason away from him, going up to the madam. “well, we are here for this famous red vixen. it-“, he gets cut off by the madam herself hearing the nickname. she smiles dearly at them. “ah my star~ why yes come with me boys. I’ll give you a good spot for a good time~”, she says walking away with a strut. just as she walks away from the group of men, dick goes to follow her. the rest of the boys too except jason who was looking around the club. what caught his attention, more like who. was roman fucking sionis. black mask.
motherfucker. the blue eyed man stared daggers at the man who drank patiently in his seat with a cup of gin. a flash of green of anger from his eyes. he would strangle the son of bitch. only, he was a citizen tonight. not red hood. not the owner of the iceberg lounge. but he’ll keep an eye out.
jason clenched his jaw, shoving his hands in his pocket before following the rest of the men.
the madam leads them to a booth right next to roman…how charming.
“here you go boys. have fun”, madam says with lust and greed in her voice. she winks at them cheekily, her eyelashes hitting her upper cheek. as a bid of goodbye, dick waves goodbye like a child. jason sits on the opposite side next to where roman was. just a way to keep an eye out. the booth was red just like everywhere else. a table light giving some vision. “man, this is actually nice. no wonder so many people come here”, wally says leaning back into his seat. conner chuckled as he crossed his arms. so far, everyone was enjoying their time but jason wasn’t. not when a murdered is right next to him, wandering freely.
“soooo when is this vixen coming out?”, tim asks his older brother as he leaned in to make sure he could hear him right. speak of the angel, a loud booming voice comes out.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO THE VALCYTE SPICE! THE MOULIN ROUGE! TONIGHT WE HAVE A PERFORMANCE, A PERFORMANCE YOU’LL DIE FOR. THE GREAT, THE BEAUTIFUL, THE TEMPTRESS. THE RED VIXEN! Y/N L/N!”
the introduction spoke into a mic. a handful of claps rings out. the club turns dark. silence and tension. just above the dance floor, a sprinkle of glitter.
the beat starts playing. a spotlight places it’s self on a stage with a curtain drawn. all eyes on the stage. everyone tilt forward awaiting. jason watched as everyone gathered around excitedly. the sound of what sound like a curtain being drawn, a pair of dazzling curtain beads dangling. and, a pair of soft legs adorned with the finest sheer stockings.
a woman continues on sliding down the beads, her grip was firm. it was her. the red vixen. her hair was bleach blonde with the softest curls. her lips stained red. fitting for her name. she wore a beige-white bra, corset and panties. a white silk gloves softly kissed her arms. all bejeweled. her heels made her legs long and lean. the vixen’s eyes stare at the crowd, her eyes seductive. lips turned up in lust.
her head leans back before singing,
a kiss on the hand, may be quite continental. but diamonds are a girl’s best friend~
the red vixen dances across the stage, her moves were swift and perfect. her voice was soft and smooth. background dancers of the same outfit but in pink and in silk gloves. fake jewelry littered their necks and arms. men as well dressed in black 1940s attire. they reminded jason of Alfred.
a kiss may be granted. but it won’t pay the rental on your humble flat. or, help you at the automat~
men grow cold, as girls grow old~
y/n pouted as she sang the line, batting her eyelashes at the overgrown crowd. dancers gather around her.
and we all lose our charms in the end~
men watched on at the woman. practically giving lustful stared and heart eyes.
woman watched on either with jealously or lust themselves.
but square-cut or pear-shaped. these rocks don’t lost their shape~
the vixen shakes her breasts teasingly at the men. Wolf whistling and laughs. y/n would be rolling her eyes at the silly men. but a show is a show. reaching behind her back, dancers placed fake jewels into her gloves hands.
diamonds are a girl’s best friend~
up her arms go, throwing the fake jewels up into the air. excited yells and ‘ooh’s. men battle each other catch some of the angel-touched jewels. y/n fake chuckle before turning around, giving a view of her arse.
jason watched in awe as she danced. she was…the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. everyone sure wasn’t kidding when they said they had a time watching her. but he could see the fake smiles. she looked like she was enjoying some of the attention. damn, an angel on that stage.
her glove hands up to her mouth. teeth clutched on the material, she turns around to the crowd. her teeth slowly slides the silk fabric off.
“well I be damned. she really is a red vixen”, Jason’s attention now turned away as he heard roman’s voice. he listens intently and close. “tell harry ill pay for her. 100 thousand for the girl”, roman says with disgusting lust in his voice.
the fucker was buying her? jason thinks to himself.
his eyes back to her, men now throwing money at her as she slipped the glove off of her arm. the silk dangled from her teeth as she grabbed and thrown it playfully at the men with a fake look of shock before giggling. “you going to have some fun boss?”, one of his goons asks him. “more like…this little red vixen will be mine”, he drawls out.
roman felt very excited tonight.
like hell he is, jason growls as he thought of the idea of a motherfucker like roman lays his hands on a woman.
tiffany’s!~
y/n sings as she rips off the necklace on one of the dancers.
cartier! ~
another rip off a different dancer, this time a fake jeweled bracelet as she holds them up.
black star! frost gorham! talk to me harry winston ! tell me all about it! ~
all together the women dancers took off the jewelry dangling from their bodies. twirling them around as they sang along to the words. y/n pointed at harry who watched from up on the sound room as she sang, a smile adorned his face as he watched.
madam violet des moines walks back over to take some drinks for the group of men until jason grabs her wrist forcefully. she looked at jason in question until he pulled her down to him. as she leaned down, he spoke in her ear “the red vixen. I want her. 500 thousand.”
her eyes widen shock at the price for her star. for that much, was a lot more than anyone would pay. she pulled away from jason, covering her shock with a smirk.
he slides one of his cards to her. she took it with greed before giving a fake courtesy to him. and off she went.
“what was that jay-bird?”, dick asks him as he had watched the interaction between the madam and him. in his hand was a bottle of water that tim forced him to drink. starting to sober up. jason glared at dick before his glare softens. “nothing dick. just enjoy your birthday”, he half yells out to him. he knows his brother will be asking questions later but he didn’t want to ruin his birthday tonight. business is tonight for jason.
dick didn’t look too convinced but shrugged his shoulders as he watched the red vixen danced and sang her heart.
time rolls on, and youth is gone~
jason as well turned his attention back to the stage that held the most prized women in the club. the vixen moves closer to the stage and where the men sat desperately.
and you can’t straighten up when you bend. but stiff back or stiff knees! you stand straight at ~
the male dancers gather around her with big white feathered fans. enclosing them snuggly, hiding away from prying eyes as she ducked down.
Tiffany’s ~
the moment felt breathtaking. as if everything slowed. jason watched from afar as more glitter rains down on her. his breathing hitches.
and up she appears. the male dancers unravel her from the feathers. what once she wore such jeweled lingerie costume. she now wears a stunning strapless white dress, a fur shawl wrapped around her arms. the once long bleach blonde cuts to being down to her chin. a mole similar to the madam’s placed. an more importantly, a single diamond necklace placed between her breasts.
diamonds! ~
her white clad figure is held up by the dancers as they twirled her around. the vixen smiles.
diamonds! ~
gently, the male dancers place her back onto the stage before marching back. positioning them in a line with the woman dancers. all the entire was on her. always.
I don’t mean rhinestones! but diamonds~
the vixen shook a finger at the crowd as she bit it seductively.
are a girl’s best ~
turning to have her back faced at the audience, she swayed her hips. you could see her curves through the dress. the dress dipped alongside her back. as she was about to sang the last words of the song, she turned her head slightly, half of her face. a teasingly smile along a wink.
best friend ~
the trumpets and instruments rolls out. the spotlight fades into darkness. audiences clap with long whistles. the crowd loved her tonight. some men threw more money along with red roses for the red vixen. a sense of gratitude for her. roses roses roses for her.
“damn, she’s good”, roy compliments as he claps along with the crowd. for conner and wally, they looked like choking fishes who needed water. the young boys had tinted pink on their cheeks. a pretty thing like her dancing half naked and practically seduced her way through everyone surely made the two blush. though for tim, he seemed uncomfortable being around such place. he did have to admit she was a good dancer. cass would be impressed. dick was more so busy drinking his water and trying to be sober.
therefore, jason, loved it. she sure was beautiful. her voice was amazing. but he remembered what he is doing. stopping from roman from getting his hands on her. it was the least he could do for her. since red hood isn’t here to put his ass in jail.
“five hundred thousand you say?!”, harry yells in pure shock and excitement as him and the madam walk over to the star of the show. madam nods as she holds up the unknown young man’s card up to harry. he quickly grabs it and holds it up to his eyes.
oh man, harry was going to have a heart attack.
“he’s-bruce wayne’s son”, he breathes out as he read the name imprinted on the card. the madam quirks an perfectly plucked eyebrow at the familiar name. “dick grayson?”, she questions grasping his arm. harry only shakes his head.
“no, the boy who faked his death darling! the one running the iceberg lounge. oh heavens sake, we are going to be rich”, his chubby hand placed itself on his chest where his heart was. his heart was going to burst.
pain. heavy breaths. the shriveling pain in her chest and throat as she hunched over on the floor with all the dancers crowding her. y/n, coughs uncontrollably. a sheet of sweat litters her forehead. such heart aching wheezing. one of the dancers, gracie diamond, what y/n calls her, runs a hand on her back to try and provide comfort. the vixens manicured hand paints of a dark saliva red. blood.
“my star, someone get a doctor!”, the madam runs over to the young woman who coughs and hacks. she coos her fragile self. a frown upon her face as she watched the poor girl fall ill. only, y/n shakes her head. “no, no doctor vi. im fine”, she weakly protests at the older woman.
harry kneels to the woman on the floor. his attention on the blood on her hands. the man’s heart clenches at the sight of his daughter figure. it was getting worse. what used to be coughs here and there, to hacking and wheezing. his little star is more sicker than ever.
“harry”, y/n weakly calls out to him as she reaches for him. the dancers back away to give the father and daughter figures a moment. harry nod his head, holding their hands together for some confirmation of ‘okay’. “yes my star?”, he whispers to her.
her batted eyelashes flick down in defeat. a reminder to fix herself up.
“how much…”, not a question but a statement she says to him. harry frowned deeply at the defeated woman before him. as much as he would say nothing, he knows the girl. seeing as she already faced the fact. “five hundred thousand dear”, he sighed.
y/n nods, her eyes well up with diamond shaped tears. she sniffles at the price before looking up at harry with a smile she perfected for years. “well…I am a star after all. someone help me as ill go and get ready myself”, she fakes the happiness. multiple set of dancers reach over to help the fallen vixen off of the floor. questions of worry, ‘are you okay?’ ‘you need something’ ‘need water?’. a shake of her head with a kind ‘thank you’, y/n excused herself from everyone. everyone watched as she walked away in pain and sadness.
and in that dressing room, the star. the red vixen. cries.
in a red wig, the curls were freshly heated. her body wears black lingerie. black stockings and a black lace robe giving her a sense of a hug. in the mirror, her tears kissed her cheeks. a sob comes out. blinking away the waters, she sniffles. her back straightens as she applied translucent powder all over her face.
her red vixen nail polished nails reaches over to the makeup on the vanity. a black and gold tube lipstick in her hand. unclasping the cap, she rolls the bottom. up comes a deep red color lipstick. she applied it effortlessly. stained lips rub against each other spreading more of the product.
she sighs, placing the lipstick on the desk. a hand runs through the curls. trying to not look like a mess to her.
she was a seductress. a siren to men.
fake smiles and fake moans make a man fall in her trap for money and expensive jewels. no love. no care. no love could make her fall for a man who would toss her away and call her names just like any other man would. if anything, she was already sick. a starving child she was, more sicker finally catches up to her.
finally, she sees she is as cleaned and dorn in such finest lingerie. the star walks over to the bed in the room. a big round shaped bed that had red silk sheets covering it. pillows shaped of hearts. her body lays on top of them, staring at the ceiling sadly. another night of false lust. another night of only for a man’s pleasure.
a soft knock on the door made her jump. shit, she thinks. y/n quickly scrambles on the bed, she lays on her side. a leg slides up on the bed. she carefully brushed her hair on her back to show her bra strap once the man walks in. the vixen poses on the bed, clearing her throat.
“come in”, she answers with a yell.
now, she was expecting a man who was old or just as nasty. but behind that door, he was gorgeous.
more gorgeous than any man she had to force herself to sleep with. he was like a beauty shaped by the god’s himself with some scars but he still was beautiful. even though he bought her tonight…
“hi”, she greets the stranger with a seducing smile.
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author’s note: hi my loves, hope you enjoyed this late night jason x reader. honestly i wanted to write this for a while as a little break from the little mermaid au. if you enjoyed this, let me know if you want a part 2? anyways, if you want to be tagged let me! - binx 💋
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moonlit-imagines · 3 months
Text
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warnings: guns/violence
a/n:
requested by @jokekinsjoke505
The gunfire from outside the car was deafening. You really didn’t know what could have started it, but knowing your fathers it was probably deserved. You opened your car door and followed the sounds of bullets being fired before you stumbled upon two gangs and their leaders—Roman Sionis and the Joker. “Dad!” You shouted over the noise, which suddenly ceased. “You said five minutes! Why am I still waiting in the car.”
“Daddy’s almost finished with his meeting, love. Please just stay in the car.” Roman replied, nudging Victor to do the same.
“Yes, y/n, we’re sorry it’s taking so long.” Victor added. You looked over to the tattooed, green-haired Joker from the other end of the alley and glared.
“Oh, that one is trouble. You know, I could finish our little meeting a bit early with just one…shot.” Joker pointed his gold-plated gun towards you and you rolled your eyes, reaching for your own gun hidden under your shirt.
“So could I.” You pointed it back at him. “Maybe you guys could finish some other time.” You shot your gun off to the side of the Joker haphazardly, startling him and his backup. “Can we go now? We’re gonna be late!” Roman and Victor turned to each other, both slightly shocked and impressed, and decided to leave like you had ordered. The Joker stood idly by, equally stunned to see you calling the shots to the point where he didn’t dare get involved. You were right, this could be solved another time.
taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @randomfandomimagine // @summersimmerus // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @amirahiddleston // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //
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acapelladitty · 1 year
Text
Whole Day Off: The Betrayal
Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Reader (5.5k)
Warnings: physical assault, mentions of sexual abuse, restraints, injections, hallucinations, rampant misogyny.
Summary: An unexpected arrival within the basement sets off a chain reaction that may prove difficult for Crane and his Witty Girl to come back from.
The promise of dinner saw you moving at an embarrassing speed as you locate your various bits of discarded outer clothing which lay scattered across the basement. A snappy trip to the bathroom paired with some wet wipes had cleaned you up well enough to be presentable and you pull on your spare skirt and shirt combo with little effort; their time spent folded within your bag making them more crumpled than you would have liked.
Not that it matters, given the situation, but it was still nice to try and look somewhat decent.
Wearing dark slacks and a pale blue shirt, Crane looks much more put together than yourself and you offer him a vague smile as he watches you get changed into your outfit. A girlish joy is tapping at your thoughts as you relish in the idea of going to dinner with him in a more public space. Sharing a meal was an intimate thing and something which you had not yet broached outside of the odd snack which only served to keep your combined energy levels up for your games.
“What kind of food do they serve there? Just so I know what to expect.” You ask, tucking your shirt into the hem of your skirt neatly.
“They advertise themselves as Italian but I think the Italian community would contest that.” Comes his easy reply, the words as dry as ever as his eyes continue to follow your movements.
“I’ll avoid the pasta then.”
“Probably for the best.”
As you finish fixing the last few buttons on your shirt, a vague rumble announces the arrival of some kind of vehicle overhead and you both pause to look up at the ceiling.
“Is that a car?”
Instead of an answer, Crane’s eyes narrow at the sound before growing wide as some kind of recollection comes to his senses.
Quick as whip, he is on you and his hands wrap around your shoulders as he pushes you towards the dentist chair which is bolted to the ground and serves as his main area for experiments. Squeaking at the unexpected motion, you almost trip but catch your feet at the last moment.
“What’s going on?” A panicked ask as you drop to the chair, remaining in place as he strides away from you without answering.
Pulling a clean handkerchief from the top drawer of his work desk, he reappears quickly, and his hands move skilfully as he forces the fabric between your lips and ties it off at the back- essentially creating a simple gag to prevent you from speaking.
It creates a jolt within your chest that only increases as he begins to strap you into the chair. Struggling for only a moment against the attempt at restraints, his hand is firm against your chest as he pins you into place and meets your gaze directly.
Something approaching uncertainty clouds his gaze and that alone is enough to make a genuine anxiety snap at your senses.
“Be smart, witty girl.” He growls. “We will soon have a guest and I need that brain of yours on top form. Follow my lead.”
The words are a stark warning, and they shock you into a simple nod as you swallow around the fabric gag and allow him to finish strapping you in; your wrists and stomach locked into place by thick padded straps that allowed no movement. He did, however, leave the leg straps free and you place it down to him being limited in time.
Crane continues with his rapid pace as he hotfoots it to the mannequin which holds his costume before snatching free his Scarecrow mask and pulling it overhead just as the metal door to the basement slams open with obvious purpose.
Your expression is blank as you watch Roman Sionis descend the stairs of the basement with the airs of a man who thought he owned the place. His white suit, familiar due to his regular appearances on Gotham news sites and papers, is as impeccable as could be and so finely tailored that it screamed its expense. The black mask which adorned his face is twisted in such a way that you can feel how unimpressed he is with the meagre state of the basement as he moves carefully to keep any grime at bay.
“Scarecrow!” He calls out with a casual ease. “I have your chemicals. Do you have a little something something ready for me in return?”
“Good evening, Sionis.” Crane greets, the words vaguely modulated by his mask. “And yes, I have your documents waiting and ready to be exchanged.”
Reaching the base of the stairs, Sionis pauses to survey the room and you watch his eyes expand slightly as he glances over your prone body before moving on. With a purposeful stride, he moves towards Crane’s work desk and drops the briefcase in his hand on the wooden table with a loud thunk.
“As promised.”
“If you open the drawer to the left and take the manila envelope you will find that everything you need is in there.”
Sionis follows the instructions and pulls free his prize. Flicking through it with a thoroughly pleased look, he glances up for only a moment to secure his gaze on Crane.
“It makes me nervous when you wear that, you know. Makes me think that I should take the safety off my guns in case there’s any little gas-filled surprises waiting for me.”
“You have nothing to fear at the moment. It would be foolish to betray you over something as asinine as a case of chemicals.”
“True, but still, if you’re concerned about the company,” a shiver runs across your skin as Sionis openly acknowledges you with a waved hand, “then I’m sure we could convince your little friend here to keep her mouth shut.”
Crane’s spindly fingers rise to his mask as he pulls it free to reveal a nonchalant expression. Following Sionis’ movements, he drops the mask to the desk so that it lays atop the briefcase before turning to face him once more.
“Present company should be ignored. She is no concern to either of us and her fate is sealed.”
Ah, so this was his game.
A sliver of relief pierces your concern, and you widen your eyes and thrash your head a little to play up to the part he needs you to play.
A perfect little victim.
Sionis moves like a serpent as he slips past Crane and comes to stand before you instead.
“Who is she?”
“No idea. I found her walking along the docks earlier this evening. A simple thing, she followed me down here without too much persuasion.”
“Looks like a whore.” Sionis hums and you swallow the insult down with only a little hurt.
“Possibly. The profession does seem to be attracted to this part of the city. Particularly since Zsasz started hunting for prey down in the Bowrey.”
“She’s not an addict though. Too pretty and put together. Maybe she’s new in town and doesn’t know the lay of the land? Probably had a little fallout with daddy and decided to try her luck in another city. That’s how they usually do it.”
Disgust welling within your chest, your eyes flick between the two men quickly, anxiety making your teeth gnaw roughly at the edge of the fabric gag between your lips.
“If you say so.”
Remaining as stoic as ever, the lack of genuine expression on Crane’s face soothes some small part of you; the part which is hoping that his absence of bite is to placate Sionis and mothing more.
Maybe he’s tired of you.
This would be a perfect opportunity to free himself.
“It’s a shame that you fell into the Scarecrow’s hands, sweetheart. I’d have loved to play more with that soft little body I can see peeking out from under those clothes. I would have treated you real nice too.”
Drawing your attention back to him, the open leer on Sionis’ features is punctuated by his hand ghosting over his crotch, the movement stoking your disgust to a new level and you cannot hide the look of revulsion which rolls across your face.
“Oh, she didn’t like that.” His laugh is unpleasant and familiarly sadistic in a terrible way. “This little bitch has some spirit left in her. I like it when they have a little bit of bite left, it makes breaking them in so much more fun.”
A subtle crack of his knuckle rings out as he presses his dark-gloved hands together.
“Bitches like that love to fight until there’s nothing left of them. And even when they’ve learned their lessons and give in they can always be taught to do better, to do as they’re told faster, to fuck exactly as their owner wants them to. Or the lessons start all over again.”
Sionis takes a step forward and instinct forces your head back against the headrest as horrible imagine, full of violence and cruelty inflicted without mercy, flit through your mind. He drops to one knee, maintaining eye-level with you as he speaks with an almost friendly tone, one which does not meet the vicious glee which radiates from his masked face.
“Maybe if you’re really nice, kitten, then the Scarecrow here will let you suck his cock to stay alive for an extra day or two. Would you do that for him? You look like you know your way around a man’s co-”
“Enough, Sionis.” Crane interjects lazily, the boredom lacing his tone clear. “I don’t play with my food.”
“Liar, You’re a bigger prick than any of us, Crane.” A pause. “Look here, you can see this bitch has been around the block a few times.”
His gloves are cool as they press against your cheek roughly, tilting your head to the side to expose more of your neck. The touch is repulsive and it takes every ounce of your self-control to not recoil from it.
“I know these kinda marks well, this bitch has been choked recently and I bet she liked it.” His hand disappears from your head with a playful flick. “Well, sweetheart? Nod for me to show that I’m right. Nod and tell us that you’re a whore who likes to be knocked around. We’re nice guys, we won’t judge.”
Your head remains stock still, eyes flicking to Crane who has the faintest furrow in his brow.
“Sionis.” The word rolls from his lips, the warning clear.
“Why bother pretending that you care what I say or do to the little bitch? She’ll end up on the slab like all the other ones. You might as well have some fun before that happens. It might loosen you up a bit.”
His hand appears before you once more and your breath hitches as it squeezes roughly at your left breast through your shirt.
Instinct takes over in a flash as you lash out with your unrestrained foot, the kick taking him by surprise as the bulk of your heel smashes off his clothed shin.
A hiss of pained surprise breaks free of his lips.
“Fucking whore!”
A sharp, sudden pain ricochets through your head as his gloved hand collides solidly with your left cheek and the quick movement makes bile rise in your throat as you swallow it down in panic. The shock of it stuns you for a moment as your vision swims dangerously and you rapidly blink away the fuzziness to see Sionis’ wrist gripped in Crane’s hand as he prevents a second blow.
“I will not warn you again, leave my subject alone.”
Crane’s voice is low, laced with danger, and the presence of it pairs with the adrenaline coursing through your system to make you feel light-headed.
“Stupid cunt kicked me.”
“And if you damage her then my experiment will be for nothing. I will not have days of research ruined for a petty act of violence.”
Snatching his hand free with a clear expression of rage, Sionis glares at you and you can feel the throb of your cheek as you stare back at him with a fearful defiance.
“I’ll give you 20 for her.”
“What?”
“20k. Cash. But only if you let me leave with her tonight before you fuck her mind up with that shit you like to inject them with.” Sionis explains, the black material of his lips twisted into a cruel smile. “It’s been a while since I had a fresh piece of bitch to play with and this one is pretty enough to keep me entertained for a while. Then, when the guys and I have broken her in fully she can be passed on. For a reasonable price, of course.”
A gloved hand snakes around your jaw once more, fingers digging in harshly to the fabric which is stretched across your cheek, and you snap your head away in a futile gesture as fresh panic makes your chest heave. Warm breath washes over your face and your wrists pull roughly at the restraints once more while you struggle in place.
“In fact, let me pull this gag off her and hear how pretty her screams are and I’ll make it up to 25k. Call it a favour between old friends.”
Eyes wide and vision blurring as tears threaten the edge of your vision, you focus past Sionis to land your sight on Crane as you silently beg him to help you, to pull this bastard off you or at least do something to help.
Anything.
You deserved that much.
“I will have to decline your generous offer. You’re not the only one who can see the value in a specimen who will not be missed by anyone. Her value to my research is high.”
Releasing you with a growl, Sionis takes a few steps back and Crane subtly slithers into the space he had just held, placing himself in the space between you both.
“You’ve lost your teeth, Crane.”
“As I said, I value my research above petty acts of violence, Sionis. Remember to whom you speak before I change my mind about our business.”
“To whom I speak, eh?” Roman hisses. “I tell you what then. I’ll give you 10k, right here and now, if you inject the bitch with that shit you produce. I want to hear her scream, one way or another.”
Silence rings throughout the basement and time seems to freeze as all present await Crane’s response.
“10k is agreeable.”
Shock washes over you like a dash of freezing water and your head snaps towards Crane’s position as a flurry of panicked thoughts filter through your head.
No.
This was just another part of his game.
He wouldn’t.
The fear which swirls in your chest as he turns his back to you and starts to do something at his work desk is intense, your wrists again pulling at the restraints which hold you in place in a way which is no longer an act on your part.
His feet sound heavy against the floor as he approaches you once more, filled syringe in his right hand, and you kick out at him roughly, unwilling to be a conspirator in your own betrayal.
“Bastard!” You scream at him, the word entirely muffled by the gag within your mouth.
He seems to understand though and a look of irritation tinged with something unreadable floods his gaze as he dodges your kicking legs to wrap a thin hand around your neck in a familiar grip. Again, time seems to freeze for a moment as you make one final incomprehensible plea.
Please, don’t. You beg with your expression as your breath hitches in your throat. Please.
His expression is unflinching as he holds your gaze and sinks the needle into your exposed neck, emptying the dose in one fluid gesture before pulling the syringe free and dropping it to the floor.
This was no hybrid toxin, that much was immediately clear as the delicious warmth which your previous experience with his toxin had afforded you was notably missing. Instead, a chill pierces your entire frame, spreading from the point of injection like a cancer as it sweeps through your bloodstream.
Your eyes land on Sionis and the sadistic joy within his gaze causes a sob to rise in your chest, the sound obscured by the gag as you instead glance to the ceiling. The shadows there seem to writhe and move, something dangerous lurking within them that you can’t see but you can feel it there, watching you, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Something scuttles up your arm and you scream into the gag as you glance down to see whatever nightmarish creature is dancing across you skin. However, as your panicked eyes dart around your vulnerable body you can see nothing there.
Hallucinations.
Crane’s voice reaches your ears but the words are muffled, almost like they were coming through an old radio, and your gaze flies to him as your body cowers away in position as a fresh scream is captured by the gag.
Crane is gone, replaced by some creature which is more teeth and claws than flesh. His mouth opens to showcase rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth which you can feel piercing your skin like a thousand tiny needles and the promise of the pain makes you recoil once more, your head tilting upwards as you slam your eyes shut.
The horrific visuals killed in the crib, you breathe out a stuttering sob as the aural hallucinations take hold of you. Tiny voices whispering promises of violence, of the fact that Crane had chosen to give you up to Sionis, of the things which both men would do to you now that you were defenceless.
Things which would make you wish that those men on the dock that night had killed you.
No! You scream within your head. He wouldn’t do that. He protec-
Once. He protected you once and now his patience has worn thin.
He enjoys me too much to kill me.
What you add to his life he can take from others.
That’s not true. I come to him willingly and he respects that. He helps me with work things too even whe-
He helps you because you fuck him. You amuse him like a pet.
He saved me from Tetch and killed those men.
You think his jealousy and bloodlust mean he cares? Silly mouse.
The use of the familiar petname is what breaks you and you feel the fat tears tickling your skin like an insect as they cascade along your cheeks.
The voice was right.
You meant nothing to him, save for being an amusement. A pretty bauble which he was just waiting for the right moment to break.
Whimpering into the gag, you lose yourself to the voices which seem determined to tear what remains of your bravado to shreds. Each wicked whisper punctuated by the ghostly sensation of hands on your body, every stroke cruel and threatening as they serve to deepen the chill which punctures your skin.
“The toxin will not kill her.”
Straining past the whispers, you can hear Crane speaking and his voice is closer to the modulated speech which filters through his mask.
“What a shame. For her. How many times will she get it while she’s down here?”
“The dosage depends on the individual. Some die after one dose, some take closer to four or five. Eventually the heart gives out due to the strain.”
“It’s a waste, Crane. I could have had use of her for much longer. She would have been great to break in and bring to heel.”
“Perhaps. Regardless, I have upheld my end of the bargain and our business here is done.”
“I’ll leave the cash by the briefcase. Your little bitch here has put me in the mood for some fun of my own, so I’ll leave you to yours.”
A sound, something like a grunt, answers him as your eyes remain clamped shut.
“See you in the obituaries, cunt.”
The words cut through the aural hallucinations like a knife and after a few moments you hear the vague slam of a metal door which signals that Sionis is gone.
And still you refuse to open your eyes.
You can hear Crane clattering around the basement as your hands ball into fists. Fear lances your heart as you wait for a final blow. Something to put you out of your misery, just as the voices promised.
It was not to come as a thin hand on your forearm makes you flinch in place, your head jerking to the side.
“This is an antidote. Stay still.”
As much as you hated him in that moment, the clinical voice possesses some comfort and you still your body as much as possible to allow him to manipulate you. Without making any further sound, you wince at the surprise of pain as he sinks the needle into your neck and administers the compound smoothly.
“This antidote was specifically curated for this particular toxin variant,” he mutters in the space above you, “so the effects should work almost instantaneously given that it was not a complete dose.”
As the antidote courses through your system, his hands move to undo the restraints which hold you in place; first focusing on the strap around your stomach before switching to the wrist straps and finishing with the gag which was now disgustingly damp with both tears and sweat.
Freed, you remain in place as you tentatively open your eyes.
His claims are true as you glance back at the threatening shadows only to find nothing within them. Head throbbing, a wave of nausea overtakes you and you jerk forward in one snappy movement as you reach around for something which you could vomit in.
Snatching up the small wastepaper bin which sits only a foot away from the chair, you bring it to your lips just as the bile which has been threatening you since Sionis’ appearance rises once again. You retch into the bin, the movement burning your chest like acid, and your throat convulses as you finish up and wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt.
Reclining once more, you focus on steadying your breathing as your shirt clings to your sweat-soaked skin with every slight movement until you feel ready to face him.
Tilting your head, your watery gaze meets his own and he has the gall to be standing before you with his arms crossing his chest.
“What do you feel?”
Moving with a speed which only serves to make the pounding of your head increase, you fly from the chair as your hands land on his chest in a glancing blow. Unfortunately, the quick dart proves too much for you and you fall past him to your knees; the hard ground hitting you like a truck as you flinch in pain.
“Bastard!” You throw at him, your head facing the floor to offset the dizziness. “You snake bastard.”
“The meeting with Sionis had slipped my mind and I had to act in the moment.”
His arm wraps around your waist and lifts you to your feet, setting you steadily to a standing position as he peers deeply into your face, searching for any signs of lingering toxin effect.
Adrenaline powers you, your body shaking like a leaf as you push yourself away from his chest and stand your ground against him; fear giving way to an anger which boils in your chest, just waiting to scald the first thing it came into contact with.
“Act in the moment?” You spit the words with venom. “By injecting me with your toxin? Letting Sionis hit me in the face? Grope me like-”
At the final statement, your words waver dangerously and you bite back the lump which forms in your throat as you cut yourself off.
Anger, honest in its intent, flashes in Crane’s face as his lips curl back into a snarl.
“I never thought that he would be so bold. Once his intentions were clear I intervened and prevented any further harm. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I liked seeing his hands on you.”
“Why? Because I’m yours? You don’t give a shit that he hurt me, you just care that he touched something that you think belongs to you.”
“Is that what you think?” His voice is flat, any previous emotion stripped from it in an instant.
“Ten thousand. That’s what my loyalty to you was worth.” You accuse with a shaky finger. “You sold me out for money.”
“It was not a full dose. I’m no fool.”
Hot rage floods you at the reasoning as you realise that an apology is not forthcoming.
He did what he had to, and he wasn’t sorry.
Not for any of it.
“You knew I hadn’t eaten. You know what we did earlier. A reduced dose, sure, I’ll believe that. But you knew that I wasn’t in a position to fight against it. Hell, you were even taking me to dinner because you knew that my body was worn out.”
Crane stands like a statue, his expression as blank as ever even as his eyes flash dangerously. He’s coiled like a snake and ready to lash out but you are too blinded by your feelings to care.
Bundling the hem of your shirt in your hands, a sudden wave of melancholy envelops you and it guts you from the inside out.
“I would have given you it. The toxin. After all that shit with Tetch and those thugs,” you pause as a fresh shudder washes over you,” I would have let you do it. Tie me down and inject me with a real dose of toxin. No pheromones. No gimmicks. That’s how fucking stupid I am. That’s how much I trusted that you wouldn’t hurt me to the point where I would break.”
At the confession, you glance at him but his expression remains empty save for a slight twitch in his jaw.
“But you took that from me. You took something that I would have given you. And you did it to save face with a rapist. One of your old friends.”
“Sionis is no friend of m-”
“Don’t. Don’t say that.”
“My options in the moment were limite-”
Again, you cut him off.
“You agreed!” The words come out shrill and fresh pain stabs at your head. “Sionis didn’t even demand it. 10k and you accepted it with a smile.”
“He was asking too many questions.”
“And you gave him the answers that he wanted. Even at the cost of me.”
Finally, Crane’s features dissolve into open frustration; his lips curling back as his nose twitches in irritation.
“You know who I am. What I am.”
“I do know, but then I have also seen other small things. And it’s those small things which keep me coming back here even though it’s fucking madness on my part.”
“Whatever you think you know about me is wrong.” Crane spat.
You circle him to put your back to the stairs and he matches your movements like it were a twisted dance, his eyes showing that he was more than aware of your intentions.
Eyes darting around the room, they land on a thick stack of money which lays atop his work desk and renewed anger pulses through you. Your feet ring out against the flooring as you storm over to the money, snatching it up in your right hand and feeling it between your fingers for a moment.
Ten thousand dollars.
“It’s no bag of silver but here-”
Cutting yourself off, you throw the money at his feet with as much force as you can muster. It bounces off the floor once before stopping just behind him, laying on the filthy ground like it held a grudge.
“You feel betrayed.”
Incredulity cuts through the rage as you splutter in indignation; but your potential response is choked back as he continues to speak.
“Ten thousand dollars for an act which I knew would not kill you and also allow me to keep Sionis from growing suspicious of your presence. Why would I make any other choice when the benefits outweighed the risks so greatly? If you thought there was any other option that I would take then what you think you understand about me is wrong.”
“That night, when those men attacked me here, I saw it. I understood more than you might like.”
“You saw nothing of what I did to those men.”
“Not them.” You counter. “I don’t care about them. I’m talking about me. You wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t fuck me even though I was desperate. Told me no and to wait until I was more stable. A true monster wouldn’t have hesitated, they would have taken advantage and let me do something I would have regretted.”
Crane falls silent, unable to refute the point.
“You showed me a genuine kindness that night and I’ve never forgotten it. But I can’t live like this. Your life outside of whatever the hell this is will eventually get me killed. It was only your toxin today but how far will you go the next time to prove that I mean nothing to you?”
“Tonight was an unexpected occurrence. It won’t happe-”
“What if Sionis returned? How would you deal with that? What would I be worth to you then to save your reputation? For only 20k you wouldn’t ever have to see me again.”
Crane remains silent, his arms still crossed over his chest as you continue; your words growing more hysterical even as you fight to keep them level.
“What if it was Riddler? Would you let him put me in one of those death traps I see on the news? You save me from one monster only to allow another to sniff around me without care. If my safety is dependent on your whims then it’s a walking death and I can’t stand it.”
“What do you want from me?”
His question is a growl but you take note of the fact that he is unable to respond to any of your points and that knowledge makes the lump in your throat tighten.
“I want you to let me go. I want you to let me leave this basement without trying to stop me, knowing that I might not ever come back.”
“No.”
“Then you’ll need to kill me.” The words come out as a scream, tinged with rage and upset. “Or why don’t you take your friend Roman’s advice and keep me here as a piece of meat to abuse and fuck whenever you want? You certainly didn’t seem too put off by the idea. Maybe the Scarecrow really is the great and terrible monster that people think he is.”
He storms forward and you steel your spine as he pauses directly in the space before you, his presence enveloping you as his hand twitches suspiciously by his side as though he were holding it back.
“Do you want to hit me?” You ask, the words low and hoarse given the damage to your throat and you almost wished he would raise a hand, just to get something from him that wasn’t this fucking stoicism.
The lack of outburst is somehow more terrible than any alternative and it angers you in a way you can’t quite place as you repeat your question.
“Do you want to hit me, Dr. Crane?”
His jaw twitches once more.
“Right now? Yes.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He mutters with a frustration which seems more internal than directed. “If it were anyone else-”
Browns knitting into a deep frown, he cut himself off.
The room falls silent aside from the light sound of the shared breathing; your own shaky and stuttering while his remains steady and measured.
“I don’t want to be near you.” You confess. “Not right now, not after this.”
Maybe it was the defeated sigh which served as a pause between your words, or maybe it was the brimming tears which threatened to fall free of your eyes, but the sag of his shoulders as he steps away from your position is all the encouragement you need.
Unsteady legs carry you to the base of the stairs and the lump in your throat chokes down any possible words which you could offer as you pause for only a moment. The anger boiling within your gut demands further retribution, but it is overshadowed by the betrayal which stings at your heart; a betrayal which feels all the more bitter given how peaceful your night had started and how stupid you had allowed yourself to become.
Still paused, you refuse to turn your head and instead swipe your thumb along your cheek to wipe off a stray tear as you quickly ascend the stairs, the creak of the old wood announcing your departure better than any speech could.
Slipping through the doorway into the frigid Gotham air, the metal door behind you clicks shut just as the sudden screech of smashing glass ushers you out and you try not to think about how much it sounds like a beaker colliding with a wall as you shakily make your way to your car.
Also posted to AO3
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tarrenterror25 · 21 days
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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
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