#Dollface💜

[elfven-blog]

KENNY! I’M GONNA KISS YOU SO HARD C’MERE SWEETHEART 🥰😘

Can you recommend one shot that is the best you ever read for Leon kennedy? I kinda lost passion for reading 😔

yes i can :)

so i don't have a single one shot that i would point to as the best, but here are some of my favorites that i think of often or go back to reread occasionally <3 they are all smut cause that is what i typically read lol but some do have plot along with it.

addicted by @explorevenus this one is great, kinda angsty but with smut too. it's so well written and sweet. she gets leon's character down perfectly. it lives in my mind. she's such a talented writer, i would recommend any of her work.

out of my head tonight by @nexysworld this is another really good one. fair warning, it is darker and angsty, but it also has great smut. it's a cool take on a version of leon's character. nexy is another really talented writer that i would recommend checking out in general.

c'mon bunny by @elfven-blog one of the first leon one shots i read :) this is smut, but it's really good. honey writes great stuff for leon, so again, any of her works are a safe bet.

tick tock by @gigabyte-flare tw for dark content, but this is a banger. this one really sticks out in my mind to this day. the smut is fire, so i would recommend this along with pixel's other work.

license and registration by @viaoverthemoon this one is so cute! it's smutty and the dynamic between reader and leon is really well done :)

restless by @ovaryacted listen... me and somno are no secret, and this one is super well done. i typically don't read fics where reader is the dom either, so i think that is a testament to its quality. definitely check out nic's work in general, they're a great writer :)

sweet creature by @d10nyx absolute banger. 10/10. it's wolf and bunny, and the dynamic is just done so well. nyx cooked here for sure. i just couldn't get enough of this one!

rose print by @iwantyouinacage tw for stepcest. however. the writing in this one is beautiful and it sticks with me cause i am a sucker for pining and guilt which ami did perfectly here. so good. <3

also this list isn't exhaustive or anything, these were just the handful that popped into my mind :)

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

Hey , I was wondering how do you think the Bay Turtles would react to that Tik Tok trend where the gf called their bf their husband ? Like they could be at the lair and April calls reader amd reader is like " Ya I'm at my husbands place " etc.

This is the trend I'm talking about

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeypmGWK/

Very cute idea! Also Bayverse request! 😚👌💙

🐢Calling Them Your Husband🐢

💙❤️Bayverse TMNT x Reader💜🧡

Word Count: 917

CW: Gender-neutral reader, calling him your husband 🥰, fluffy as hell, not proof-read.

TikTok was an interesting platform that you enjoyed scrolling through occasionally, and it wasn’t until one day you stumbled upon the couple side of TikTok. You were planning on scrolling past until a certain one caught your attention, and it certainly got you thinking…

Later that night, you and your boyfriend were doing your nightly activities as you usually did, when you got a sudden call from April. You answered with a smile, “Hey April, what’s up?” You ask, the conversation flowing naturally until she asked where you were at. Without hesitation, you answered, “Oh! Yeah, I’m at my husband's place.” You smile, before glancing over at the turtle beside you, getting the following reaction…

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 Leo was staring rather intensely at you, feeling a flood of emotions course through him as he stared at you. He would then let out a soft chuckle, and waited until you hung up. He really liked that, oh he REALLY loved that actually, you saw him as your husband, huh?

💙 Once you hung up, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you sweetly, “So, what was that about, hm?” He mused, as you giggled a bit. “You want to get married? Why didn’t you just say so?” He smiles, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to tell him it was a TikTok, you just couldn’t, not at the time anyways. And plus, I mean the topic was on your mind after all.

💙 “Oh yeah.” You grin as you draw him into a loving kiss, “Let’s get married?” You ask, smiling at him. A chuckle escapes him and he presses his forehead against yours, “Yeah… Let’s get married.” He swiftly lifts you up, bridal style, “And let’s make it soon. I want this husband title to be more permanent.” He chuckles. (Though you would have to tell him later down the line about this because you felt a tad bit guilty, spoiler; he was confused, but he was fine with it.)

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph gave you a soft chuckle, before placing a hand on your hip, “Damn right you are.” He smirked down at you. Now this, dear reader, stroked his ego, he absolutely loved it. He waits for you to finish up the call with April, lightly rubbing your skin in a loving manner as he was left with his thoughts for a moment.

❤️ Once you hung up, he kissed your head, “Husband, huh? Get that from somewhere?” He asks, and you couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes… I did, it was a TikTok idea.” He playfully rolled his eyes, “Now you didn’t mean it?” He teased, making you panic, “Of course I did, Raph!” He let out a small laugh, “Easy, Dollface. I’m messing with you.” He would kiss your forehead, calming you down.

❤️ He was a little disappointed that it was a TikTok trend, but he does have to admit, you calling him your husband certainly felt good. Now he was rather tempted to make you a Hamato, if you catch my drift. But he’d wait, he wants it to be at the right time… For now, he’s just relentlessly bullies you (lovingly) about this for a good while.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Chokes, Donnie literally chokes. He was in the middle of drinking some apple juice when the phrase, ‘my husband’s’, gave him some whiplash with this one. He was choking and coughing, wiping away dripping juice as you panicked and hung up on April to help him, (RIP Donnie, died to apple juice 💀).

💜 Once you finish helping him clean up, he would finally regain his composure, his nostrils still stinging from the apple juice, he asks, “What was that about?” He wasn’t angry, not at all, just really confused about this whole thing. Husband? That’s not the right term, you guys aren’t married (yet)! You end up explaining, “Well… It was a TikTok trend and I kinda wanted to see how you’d react.” You admit.

💜 He chuckles and shakes his head at this, “A TikTok trend?” He asks, “Well, it certainly caught me off guard… But maybe don’t do that the next time I’m drinking apple juice, it isn’t pleasant in the throat nor the nose.” He warns, making you smile, “Right, sorry Don.” And you kissed his cheek, returning back to your fun nightly activities of working on his latest invention.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey goes along with it, he’s seen this trend. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans against your shoulder, speaking closer to the phone, “Yup~ Wifeys at my place!” He grins, and now you were feeling yourself get red in the face, now a little flustered that he went along with it. It kinda made you feel a little giddy inside.

🧡 Once hanging up, Mikey was giving you a smug smirk, “Tried to pull that one on me? Well I’m two steps ahead of you, angelcakes!” He grins as he’d kiss your cheek, making you groan, “Damn it, Mikey. I was hoping you’d be a little more on the surprised side, but alas, you know TikTok better than I do.” Making him laugh and nuzzle against your neck.

🧡 He placed sweet kisses along your neck, “Nah, that just takes the fun out of it.” He grins widely, pulling away to look into your eyes, “Plus, I’ve always wanted to call you wifey.” He smirked again when he saw you blush a little harder, making you sigh, “Fine fine! You win.” You groan, hugging him around the shoulders, as he laughed softly and nuzzled your cheek lovingly.

[momotonescreaming]

A quick thing for @hellion-child , thank you for joining me on my Sal Deluca/ Josh Russo rarepair bullshit 💜

"Is he always like this?" The probie — Hayden — asks, brows furrowed underneath his helmet as his gaze flicks between his fellow firefighters and their Captain — Captain Deluca, smirking as he speaks into the radio strapped to his chest.

"Thanks for the assist there, dollface," their Captain says, flirts, to the dispatcher on the other end of the radio. He's smirking, looking all smug about it, but Hayden can't quite tell if it's mean spirited or not yet.

When his friends from the Academy heard he got assigned to Captain Sal Deluca from the 122 — they winced. He's got a reputation of being a bit of an asshole, apparently, who scares the shit out of all the probies. High turnover rate. When he got to the actual station, however, the other firefighters said he really wasn't that bad. He just pushes them because he knows that they can do better. Some people just can't handle his leadership style — weak people — someone joked. Hayden can't tell if it's a style meant for him yet, but he's being put through his paces at least. And isn't that what being a probie is all about?

This however, in front of him, doesn't match up to the Captain Deluca in his head. The Captain Deluca he's been told about.

"Assist?" The very male voice of their dispatcher crackles though the radio, smile in their voice evident. "You'd be lost without me, and you know it."

It's like they don't even care that everyone can hear them.

"He didn't use to be," one of their paramedics — nicknamed Barbie, on account of her being a tall blonde — says with a casual shrug. "But he is now, and only with Josh."

"Josh?"

"The dispatcher," Barbie nods, looking over at their Captain, flirting through the radio waves. "We know him by name now."

Hayden — admittedly — hasn't been on very many calls yet, but on all the other's he's only heard Cap refer to them as dispatch. Maybe thanking them by name at the end, once they've rescued their person and done their job. But today, it's been 'what've you got for me Josh' and 'how's our caller doing, Josh' and 'give me good news Sunshine'.

"Cap's always been a bit of a charming asshole," the other paramedic — Riley — chimes in, where he's starting to pack their gear back into the ambulance. Thankfully, they didn't end up needing most of it. "Good at getting people to calm down and listen to him, y'know?"

"But the flirting," Barbie parrots back, smarmy smile on her face as she flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Hayden kind of gets the nickname a lot more now. "Is an 'only in the past few months' sort of thing. A new development, shall we say."

It's so weird, to hear these two paramedics, these two seasoned professionals — openly gossip about their boss flirting at work. Their fucking boss, who's stern and tough and pushes Hayden because he knows he's got the skill so why isn't he fucking using it. A real man's man, all bulky muscles and a sharp jaw. Talking to the others about basketball and how he's been helping a friend of his restore an old hotrod. Who can command a scene like nothing else, and then, right at the end, when everything is wrapped up and everyone's safe — flirt with the man on the other end of the radio like no one else can hear them.

Hayden's gaze flicks back over to his Captain, the macho asshole, smiling and laughing as Josh the dispatcher threatens to send all the interesting calls to the 118.

"Oh sweetheart, you wouldn't fucking dare," Sal retorts, slowing walking back to the truck and the ambulance Hayden is leaning on. His heart speeds up — traitorously — as his Captain approaches him not doing anything to help them wrap up the scene. But it turns out he needn't have bothered. "As if they don't get all of the wack shit already."

Sal nods at the three of them — Hayden, Barbie, and Riley — and continues on to the truck proper. They can all hear Josh huff a laugh down the line.

"Am I losing my mind?" Hayden says, brows continuing to furrow, an incredulous smile starting to creep onto his face.

"Best get used to it probie," Riley laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. "We've been placing bets on when they'll actually start dating."

[jesterfairy]

.♠︎.💜 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 💚.♠︎.

Chapter 11: Marked

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter Word Count: 4,958

Fic Summary: Alina Vale dreams of escaping her dead-end life as a diner waitress, finding solace in painting Gotham’s haunting shadows. But when a routine trip to the bank turns into a living nightmare, she finds herself face-to-face with the Joker—a man as captivating as he is terrifying.

As his twisted games unravel her defenses, Alina is forced to confront the pull he has over her, a collision of fear and desire she can’t control. Trapped in his world of chaos and power, survival means facing not only him but the darker parts of herself he’s brought to life.

A story of obsession, control, and the intoxicating allure of letting go.

Genres: Dark romance, Gothic romance, Stalker romance

Pairings: TDK Joker x Female OC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: non-con, extremely dubious consent, violence, psychological manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, slow-burn, toxic relationships, trauma bonding, childhood trauma, graphic sexual content, stockholm syndrome, dead dove do not eat

A/N: Here it is—the chapter I’ve been so excited to finally share! Now that it’s finished, I have to admit… I’m nervous as hell to put this out there. This one is intense, and I really hope you guys like it!

🧨 WARNING 🧨

This chapter contains extremely dubious themes involving sexual coercion and violation. If that’s not your thing, please skip this chapter. This is labeled dark romance for a reason—please mind the warnings list.

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter 11: Marked

Alina forced her legs to move, each step heavy with dread. The wood looked splintered—rough. The thought of lying down on it made her skin crawl, but she pressed on.

The Joker's gaze never wavered, dark eyes gleaming with wicked delight as he drank in every hesitant movement.

“That’s it, dollface...don't be shy."

She lowered her arms onto the table, the coarse wood biting into her chest—and the locket pressing between them, its weight unbearable. The cool metal dug into her skin, a silent accusation. A cruel reminder of everything she had left. Everything she was about to give away.

The table was just a little too tall, forcing her onto her toes. Her heels hovered above the concrete, balance precarious, every inch of her stripped raw with vulnerability.

Behind her, the Joker chuckled darkly.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Such a good girl.”

Alina bit the inside of her cheek, trying to steel herself against the panic rising in her chest.

She heard the click of his footsteps approaching—slow, deliberate. Her heart pounded in time with every tap.

Click. Clack.

Then—silence.

He was close now. Too close. The heat of him ghosted over her skin, a presence she coudn’t see but could feel—looming, waiting. Her breath hitched, every nerve in her body locking tight.

The steady rhythm of his breathing filled the space between them, stretching unbearably.

Then, finally, he broke the silence.

“Let’s start with the bank,” he mused, his voice unhurried. “Tell me, doll… how did it feel when you first saw me?”

Her throat tightened. She knew what he wanted—to make her relive the horror, to savor it.

Swallowing hard, she forced the words out. “I… I knew it was you—the Joker.”

A dark growl rumbled around her, low and indulgent. “Mmhmm.” The sound slithered through the air—slow, savoring—like a man relishing the last bite of something sinful, something stolen.

“And you felt it, didn’t you? That shiver of recognition when it hit you—who I was, what I could do to you.” His voice dropped, deep and intimate. “Tell me, dollface… did it make your pulse race?”

Alina squeezed her eyes shut, the memory clawing back. “Yes." Her voice wavered. “I felt… helpless.”

The Joker’s laughter coursed through her like a dark current, so rich with satisfaction it sent a shiver sparking to every edge of her body.

"Helpless…" He echoed the word slowly, like he was savoring the taste of it. His voice was thick with unrestrained pleasure. “Just like you are now.”

His sigh ghosted over her neck—warm, taunting. The whisper of his exhale sent goosebumps racing down her spine, every nerve bracing for what came next.

"Knowing there's nothing you can do," he murmured, each syllable steeped in satisfaction. "Knowing I've got you right where I want you..."

Silence. Long. Drawn out. Unbearable.

Then—

“…How does that make you feel?”

She wanted to scream, to beg him to stop, but the words stayed lodged in her throat—frozen by fear and a confusing, dark anticipation. A thrill, sharp and undeniable, like the way her heart used to leap on roller coasters just before the plunge.

That familiar feeling, that dangerous rush, coiled deep inside her.

Fear, she told herself, trying to drown out the whispers of something darker. It had to be fear...

“I... I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, the heat of him licking at her spine, hovering just above contact. The sharp, smoky bite of gunpowder filled her senses, threaded with something deeper—masculine, invasive.

“Don’t know, huh?” His voice cut through, low, knowing. Too close.

“That’s all right, doll. I’ll help you figure it out.”

Her muscles locked, tight with pain, every inch of her hyper-aware of him—of the space between them shrinking.

But he didn’t touch her. Didn’t need to.

His voice was enough—dark, invasive—sliding over her skin, sinking deep, curling sinfully low in her belly.

“Now, tell me about your apartment,” he said. “When you found my little gift. How did that feel?”

Her stomach clenched. The red smile on her canvas—the terror surged back with overwhelming clarity

“I felt... violated,” she murmured, hardly more than a breath.

The Joker groaned softly, low and barely restrained. The sound slithered through her, stirring something deep, something unbidden.

It was more than just fear. Something worse. Something she didn’t want to name. It coiled low, dark and treacherous. A whisper of sensation that didn’t belong.

She strangled the thought before it could take shape.

No. God, no.

“Mmm, dollface…” He let it linger, a tease more than words...

“I love knowing I got into your space… into your head.” He dipped lower, his breath a slow, taunting heat against her ear. “It’s delicious.”

Then—

A faint clink of metal shattered the silence.

Her breath hitched, pulse hammering as the sound snaked through the air like a threat.

Something unfastening. Leather shifting.

The realization slammed into her all at once—

Panic tightened around her ribs, squeezing unbearably. Every second stretched...

Desperate to regain control, she forced herself to speak. “And... the graveyard,” she choked out. “I felt... trapped. Like you were everywhere. Like I couldn’t escape you.”

The Joker exhaled a slow, indulgent breath, like she’d just told him exactly what he wanted to hear. “Mmm… now that, sweetheart—that's beautiful.”

His warmth curled around her, invading the space between them, close enough that she swore she could feel the whisper of a smile against her skin. “No escape…” he echoed, savoring the words, letting them settle. “That’s the way it should be.” He sighed, the gentle exhale tickling the hairs at the nape of her neck.

Her breath faltered, body instinctively tensing under the intimate, almost unbearable closeness.

“You feel me in your shadow, don’t you?” A dark chuckle. “When you close your eyes, when you're all alone…” He leaned in, breath a ghost against her temple. "Tell me, doll—how many times have you held your breath, just waiting for me to step out of the dark?"

The air thinned, pressing down on her chest, making it impossible to breathe.

And then she heard it again—the faint clink, the whisper of leather.

What was he doing?

Was he—was he really going to—

"And yet, here we are," he murmured, rich with certainty. "You knew I’d come for you. You always knew." A pause, slow and deliberate.

"Because you belong to me."

Alina’s grip tightened on the table, her mind spiraling in a storm of horror, disgust, and something worse—confusion.

No. She wasn’t his. No matter how many times he whispered it, no matter how badly he wanted it to be true…

And yet—

The words slithered into her mind, coiling tight, sinking in like a splinter too deep to pull free.

Then—

That ominous sound: the rustle of fabric.

Not knowing what was coming—it was unbearable, the fear strangling her until she thought she’d choke on it.

“What are you doing?” The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

He took a slow breath, drawn out, savoring. "Wouldn’t you like to know?’ he rasped, his voice thick, almost... breathless. ‘But don’t worry, dollface. I won’t lay a hand on you... not tonight, anyway.’"

His words hung in the air, heavy with menace.

Alina’s heart stuttered as a fresh wave of dread washed over her.

“But I’ll tell you what," he continued, voice smooth as silk, edged with something darker. "You’ve been such a good girl… maybe I ought to reward you. Something better than books. Something a little more... comfortable."

Alina stiffened. A trap. She knew it, felt it tightening around her like an invisible snare.

“I’ve got something real nice for you in that bag I pulled you're books from, sweetheart,” the Joker continued. “Sheets, a pillow. Maybe something extra soft to sleep on. You’re still cold, aren’t you?”

He let the silence stretch, reveling in it. Watching her squirm.

She didn’t reply. Didn’t move.

"All you have to do is answer one more question for me, and..."

The pause was unbearable, heavy with promise, thick with something darker.

Then—closer now, his breath a ghost against her skin—

"Take that skirt off."

Every nerve in her body froze, her mind screaming against the crushing weight of his demands. No, no. This was sick—a line she couldn’t bring herself to cross.

She swallowed hard, nails biting into the wood beneath her fingers. She should refuse. Should fight. Should say something.

But then—

"Come on, doll," he coaxed, smooth as sin. "Just a little more. What’s one more step, huh?"

Alina clenched her jaw, her teeth sinking into her lip, the sharp jolt of pain a fleeting distraction from the storm inside her.

She couldn’t do this. Wouldn't.

She would rather die than give him this.

But the cold…it clawed at her, whispering that she had no choice. The promise of warmth—a pillow, sheets—it was almost unimaginable.

A sick dread crept into her veins. She was at the edge now, teetering between survival and surrender, the line between them blurring, dissolving.

He leaned in, his fingers barely grazing the edge of the table beside hers—close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough that her skin prickled with the ghost of a touch that never came. But she felt it anyway—her breath hitching, sharp and shallow, as if the air itself had thickened, pressing in, trapping her.

"What’s it going to be, sweetheart?" His whisper curled around her, dark and coaxing. "Do we have a deal?"

Her fingers gripped the rough wood, her knuckles white as she fought against the rising tide of desperation. She hated him—hated how he twisted everything, how he dangled survival like a cruel joke, knowing she had no other choice.

Sheets. A pillow. Comfort. Warmth.

It was too much to resist.

Slowly, painfully, she forced herself to speak. Her voice barely audible as the words left her lips. “What... what kind of sheets?”

She could hear the grin in his voice before he even spoke.

“Knew you’d come around, doll,” he crooned. “Soft ones. Real nice. None of that cheap motel crap.” He paused, letting the words settle. Then, almost teasing— “Maybe even flannel...to keep you extra cozy.”

Alina closed her eyes—considering. She could feel the humiliation creeping in, knowing what she was about to do, but the promise of warmth—of just a little bit of comfort in this endless nightmare... It was too much.

She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t fight him.

But, this wasn’t surrender, she told herself.

This wasn’t about him. It was about survival. About warmth. About keeping herself sane enough to make it through another night.

That was all.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the waistband of her skirt, fingers quaking with shame and cold. She tried to block out the sickening pleasure she knew he was getting from this, but it was impossible.

She could feel his eyes burning into her, watching her every move, devouring her vulnerability, her surrender.

She took in a sharp breath, a desperate attempt to steady herself.

Slowly, painfully, she peeled the skirt down her legs, her heart pounding in her chest as the fabric pooled around her ankles. The cold air hit her bare skin, sending a shiver through her body, but she didn’t look back at him.

She couldn’t.

She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on the rough wood, her hands gripping the table for support as she lay there.

Exposed. Shaking. Ashamed.

He let out a low, pleased hum. “Good girl,” he purred, thick with a satisfaction that crawled under her skin and made her stomach twist.

“Look at you, trembling so perfectly...almost like you were made to fall apart for me.”

Alina’s throat tightened, the cold air bitting at her painfully exposed flesh. She could feel her heartbeat thrumming against the wood, each rapid thud ricocheting back into her chest.

The faint clinking sound of his belt buckle echoed again, sending a fresh wave of panic through her.

Please no...

But he didn’t move closer. Instead, his voice slithered through the air, low and heavy with sadistic pleasure.

“Now... tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Standing there, so... vulnerable. So... at my mercy. How does it feel knowing I can see everything? Knowing I could do anything I want to you, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me?”

Her breath caught, heart hammering as the weight of his words sank in. She wanted to lash out, to fight, to hurl every ounce of her hatred and disgust in his face. But the words wouldn’t come.

Beneath the anger and loathing, something darker was stirring—a treacherous heat curling low in her stomach like a slow-burning poison.

It clawed at her, twisting her fear into something raw, something shamefully potent.

Every instinct screamed at her to resist, to stand her ground, but she was shrinking under his command.

Why did she feel so small? So utterly powerless? She had never felt so out of control—so disgusted with herself. It was as if she were a puppet, strings pulled by hands she couldn’t see, her every move dictated by him.

She hated him, hated the way he twisted her fear into something darker, something shameful. But what disgusted her most was the part of her that answered—that responded to his dominance.

Was she really that broken?

Maybe she was. But she would be damned if she let him see it.

She swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady.

“It feels cold.”

Joker chuckled darkly, clearly savoring her quiet resistance. “Cold, huh? Well, don’t worry, dollface. You’ll be warm soon enough.” His voice dropped, low and heavy, carrying a sinister promise that made the air around her thicken.

Alina’s legs trembled so violently now that she could barely keep herself on her toes, every muscle in her body aching from the strain. The urge to collapse, to fold in on herself and disappear from the world, clawed at her. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he gave her what he’d promised.

Suddenly, the faint shuffle of fabric behind her sent a jolt through her body, and she braced herself for the worst. But then, his voice came again—low, taunting, and dripping with mockery.

“You’ve done well, sweetheart. So... here’s your reward.”

She didn’t dare look back, but she heard the soft thud of something being tossed onto the bed behind her.

A set of sheets. A pillow. The promise of comfort, so close she could almost feel it.

“Now...if you’re interested, I’ve got something else for you. A bonus.”

He set something on the table, just beside her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse—a thick, plush comforter. Far better than the thin blanket he’d given her before.

But what would it cost her?

The dread coiled tighter in her stomach as his voice crept into her ears. “If you really want this blanket... well, that’ll cost you a little more. Just one more step, doll. What do you say?”

He wasn’t done with her. He never would be. No matter how much she gave, he would always want more.

And the worst part was, she didn’t know if she could bring herself to say no.

“Come on, dollface,” he coaxed, his voice soft, almost playful. “You know you want it. Just a little more, and you can sleep like a queen.” He let out a low, dark chuckle. “Well, as much of a queen as you can be down here.”

Her heart pounded harder, her chest tight with dread, but she couldn’t deny the pull of temptation.

A thick, cozy blanket. Real warmth. Something more than just bare survival.

Her mind screamed at her to resist, to keep whatever shred of dignity she had left. But her body ached with cold and exhaustion, the edges of her vision blurring with fatigue. She felt herself swaying slightly, her balance faltering.

“I…” Her voice cracked, the words lingering painfully in her throat. She swallowed hard, her breath shallow as she forced herself to speak again. “What… what do you want?”

The Joker’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur. “I think you already know, sweetheart.”

Her heart sank.

Of course she knew. She wasn't dense.

His fingers lingered on the edge of the table, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if savoring every second. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, his presence consuming.

“Take them off,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, each syllable sending a pulse of heat through her. “And I'll give you the blanket.”

Alina’s entire body stiffened, her breath catching as the weight of his demand settled over her. She wanted to recoil, to spit out a refusal, but the words wouldn't come. She was too weak, too tired.

Too desperate.

The blanket loomed at the edge of her vision, plush, inviting—she could almost feel its warmth cocooning her, chasing away the relentless cold.

This was survival; dignity had no place here.

Her fingers faltered as they reached for the lace waistband of her underwear, her mind screaming at her to stop, to find another way...

But there was no other way.

Slowly, painfully, she peeled the panties down her hips, the fabric whispering down her legs as her entire body shuddered with a mix of cold and shame.

She stood there, trembling, her breath shallow and ragged, her body bare—exposed to him.

She could feel his eyes snaking over her, could almost hear the grin stretching wider across his face as he drank in the sight of her submission.

The humiliation burned hotter than the cold ever could, searing into her skin as her fingers gripped the edge of the table for support.

She had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly powerless and ashamed.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable.

Then—after what felt like an eternity—

"God, you're so perfect like this, doll," he purred, his voice low and thick with dark desire. "So beautifully exposed... so damn obedient."

He leaned in, so close, so painfully close that her body reacted before her mind could process it. Her back arched involuntarily, every inch of her desperate for contact, pulled by the magnetic force of his proximity. The heat between her thighs flared into an unbearable, traitorous ache—shameful, uncontrollable, twisting inside her.

"You're trembling," he murmured, his lips nearly brushing against the delicate curve of her neck. "Is that fear, or something else, Alina?"

Her breath hitched as his words sunk deep into her, unraveling something inside her, something she’d tried to lock away. She fought to steady herself, but his proximity, his touch, it all blurred the lines between anger and something else—something dark, something she couldn’t ignore.

He shifted closer, his body almost pressed against hers, every inch of her sensitive skin acutely aware of the tension in the air. “I know you’re fighting it,” he whispered, his voice low and knowing. “But deep down, you want this. Don’t you?”

She bit her lip, eyes squeezed shut, as the flood of conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

Then, as though sensing her hesitation, his voice dropped even lower, slithering into her ear with a dark satisfaction. "So...” He let the word hang in the air, thick with tension. “How did it feel, dollface? When I told you I’d been watching you sleep… How did you really feel when you realized I’d been in your apartment… so close to you?”

Her eyes flew open, the memory slamming into her with the force of a blow. That moment had been a violation unlike any other, a terror so profound it defied words. She remembered the cold fear, the way her heart raced, the suffocating realization that he was everywhere—always so near, always watching.

Her hands clenched into fists, her breath ragged. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it had affected her, how deeply he had burrowed into her mind, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“I… I felt exposed,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, but it cut through the thick silence like a knife.

The Joker’s laugh was soft, almost tender in its cruelty. "Exposed…" he repeated, savoring the word as it lingered between them. "Oh, you felt it, didn’t you? That horror creeping in...knowing I held the upper hand all along. That in your little world of safety, you were never really alone.”

Her stomach churned, bile clawing its way up as the sickening realization sank in—this was what he craved. Her fear, her vulnerability—it was sustenance to him, a dark, twisted pleasure she could feel in every sharp inhale of his quickened breaths.

“What else did you feel, hmm?” His voice dropped lower, a dark, intimate rasp. “Tell me more. Don’t hold back now.”

She fought to steady her breath, her mind screaming not to give him anything else, but her voice betrayed her. “I… I felt violated.”

That drew a sharp inhale from him, and she heard it—the way his breath hitched with pleasure, the way his voice turned almost reverent. “Violated,” he whispered, savoring the word. “Yes… that’s it. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

His soft, taunting laughter echoed through the room, wrapping around her and amplifying the helplessness that threatened to drown her.

“You hated it, didn’t you?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Knowing I was there. Knowing I could’ve done anything I wanted while you were sleeping… so soft… so helpless.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing back the tears that threatened to fall. But she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

The Joker’s laugh was low, breathless. “God, I can still see it now… the look on your face when I told you. The way the fear sank in. That realization.” He let out another breathy chuckle, the sound more intimate than anything she’d ever heard from him. “It was beautiful.”

His breathing deepened, each inhale weighted and deliberate, as if her words alone had awakened something dark and primal within him.

Then she heard it again—the rustle of fabric, the metallic clink. Her heart slammed against her ribs, her mind spiraling with questions.

What was he doing?

She thought she knew, but the reality was too horrifying to fully grasp.

Dread crawled over her skin, cold and suffocating. She wanted to turn, to see, but the her fear kept her rooted.

“And you know the best part?” His voice was ragged—thick with pleasure. “You’ll never feel safe again. Not when I’m around. Every time you close your eyes, you’ll wonder if I’m there… watching. Waiting.”

He chuckled, low and drawn out. “You’ll never escape me, dollface,” he rasped. “Not in here…not even in that beautiful little head of yours.”

Alina’s throat tightened, her stomach twisting painfully as she swallowed back her tears.

She loathed him. She loathed herself for doing this. But she couldn’t deny the flood of relief that swept through her when she heard the soft thud of the blanket being tossed onto the bed behind her.

“You’ve earned it,” Joker murmured.

The room seemed to close in tighter as she stood there, shivering, bare and splayed out for him. Every inch of her body was shaking now as she struggled to hold herself up on her tiptoes, the jagged wood of the table pressing sharply into her chest.

She waited. The silence wrapped around her like a living thing, slithering over her skin, waiting to sink its claws in. Her heartbeat pounded in a frenzied rhythm against the wood, each thud ricocheting back into her chest.

What now?

What more could he take? She had given him everything he asked for. Surely, this was enough.

Maybe now, he would finally let her go.

But then—

The sounds only grew stronger. His breathing—low, ragged, hungry. The rustling—faster now, more frantic.

A sharp inhale. A slow, deliberate exhale.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his voice thick with raw desire, barely more than a rasp. "You have no idea how hard it is... not to touch you right now."

His words slid through her like poison—threading though her veins until she could feel him inside her, curling around her insides like a sickness.

Her breath stilled, trapped in her throat, her pulse hammering so violently she swore he could hear it.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Thick. Stretched. Smothering. She was drowning under his gaze, pinned her beneath the weight of his possession.

But then, without warning, she heard him move behind her. Faster now—with whatever he was doing...

A shift of fabric, the slow, deliberate drag of leather slipping against skin.

Her entire body tensed, every muscle coiled in apprehension as her mind swirled in a chaotic storm of fear and anticipation. She could hear his breaths deepen, each one sending a fresh wave of distress through her.

“You’ve done well, sweetheart,” he growled softly, the words vibrating with something dark and dangerous just beneath the surface. “So... here’s a little something extra to keep you warm.”

And then—the unmistakable sound.

A low, throaty groan—drawn out, ragged.

Something hit her skin. Warm. Wet.

Her breath seized, a sharp gasp breaking free.

No... no... it can’t be...

But the undeniable warmth was there, slicking down her bare flesh in a shameless descent.

The realization slammed into her like a violent blow, the shock seizing her mind and turning her limbs to stone.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t.

Her pulse pounded—hard, frantic—each beat a reminder that she was still here, still trapped in this nightmare.

Behind her, he laughed—a dark, unhinged sound that echoed through the room like nails scraping against glass.

Humiliation crashed over her, coiling tight and twisting deep.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. “There, there, doll. I told you I wouldn’t touch you. And I kept my promise… technically.” His laughter erupted again, manic and chilling, filling the room with a twisted kind of glee.

She wanted to cry. To run. To claw it off her skin—to erase the revolting heat of his release that now clung to her. But no sound escaped her lips, no movement. She was frozen in place, pinned by the weight of the humiliation and rage that flooded through her veins like venom.

The Joker stalked around the front of the table, leering at her with a sick fascination. “I wish I could have seen the look on your face,” he jeered with a cruel smirk. “Would have been priceless.”

Alina bit back the urge to retch as she stared down at the table. She could feel the hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

He crouched down to her level, his grin sharp and mocking. “I told you I like to play, didn’t I?” His eyes devoured every flicker of her reaction. “And this… this was just the beginning.”

The Joker tilted his head, savoring every pulse of her shame. “And to think…” He hissed, low and taunting. “If you’d do this for a blanket… what else will you give me?” He leaned in, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. “I can’t wait to find out.”

His laughter rang out, sharp and mocking, echoing in her ears like a maddening refrain.

Alina’s fists clenched against the table, her nails biting into her palms as the rage finally surged to the surface. Something inside her snapped, white-hot and blinding.

How dare he?

How dare he!

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to claw his laughing eyes out, to rip that smug, twisted grin off his face.

She couldn’t stop herself, the words tearing free, fueled by the rage that had been simmering beneath her terror all along.

“You’re a fucking monster!” she snarled, her voice shaking with fury.

But the Joker’s grin didn’t falter—in fact, it seemed to stretch wider, his eyes gleaming with a wild, manic light.

He leaned in close, his breath hitching with laughter.

“Yes, I am,” he said, with a mad delight. “And you, dollface, are just starting to see how much fun we’re going to have.”

He threw his head back, laughter spilling out in wild, unhinged bursts, bouncing off the walls and pressing in like a tightening noose.

Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

His gaze snapped back to hers, the room thick with silence. His grin faded, replaced by something darker—something certain.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he murmured, voice low and sure. “Sooner than you think.”

And then, as if nothing had happened, he gestured casually toward her mattress. “Go on, sweetheart. The sheets are yours. You’ve earned them.” His grin returned, the amusement never leaving his eyes. “Enjoy.”

With that, he turned, sauntering toward the door with a lazy, satisfied ease. The heavy metal groaned as it swung shut, followed by the cold, final click of the lock—sealing her in.

She collapsed onto the cold floor, shivering, stunned, hugging her knees as if she could erase herself.

But nothing would take this away. Not even time.

A sob broke free, then another, then more, until they swallowed her whole.

She hated herself for breaking. For letting him win. But more than anything, she hated the part of her that responded—the dark flicker of arousal that coiled, shameful and unwanted, under the weight of his control

She felt sick. Dirty. Like she’d betrayed herself on a fundamental level.

His pleasure on her skin was unbearable, sticky and revolting, the humiliation choking her as she curled in tighter.

This wasn’t just survival anymore. It was something darker, something far more twisted.

And she didn’t know how much longer she could take it.

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

A/N: So… what do we think of what Joker did to Alina in this chapter? Sick bastard, right? And yet, somehow, he’s still so damn charming. I hate him. I love him. I’m going straight to hell for this. 💀🖤😂

I’d love to hear what you thought about this chapter! Even if you hated it—tell me! Your feedback means the world to me. Even if it’s just an emoji, that’s cool too. Just knowing there are real people out there reading this would mean so much. 💜🖤💚

I’m so excited to finish up the next few chapters—things are about to take a huge turn for these two in the best (and darkest) way. Writing dark romance is my absolute favorite, and I can’t wait to share what’s coming next! 😩🔥

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Taglist: 💚 (please let me know if you'd like to be added)

@furisodespirit

Navigation Links:

Masterpost | Next Chapter →

[sfw-softies]

My first request!! I decided to do both because why not? :]

Jax CG! & regressor! HCs 🐰👾

Cg!Jax

Knowing how overwhelming the digital world can be, I feel like he'd try to be a really fun CG, but he's very go with the flow; sad? Let's go prank someone! You just wanna lay down together in silence because the feeling of being held is all you need right now? Whatever you want, dollface 💜

He's not good with talking about emotions, but he tries to understand. He can at least tell the difference between a tantrum and a breakdown.

The days when you're at least a little happy are his favorite days. He loves walking around the tent with you. Going on adventures together is a usual occurrence, the others don't mind it too much, but they do worry he'll lose you or something.

When I see him as a caregiver, I think of one word only. Chaos. Mans is 100% letting you off the hook with a lot of things.

I don't think he'd ever punish his little. Maybe scold them, but rarely will there be timeouts. If anything, it's "let's play the dont move or speak game," if you're ever goin wild. which worked the first time but never again after that. *finger guns*

Lastly, I feel like he'd sing to you... DONT TELL ANYONE THOUGH... ✨️It's only 4 u✨️

Regressor!Jax

Little Jax is very shy at first, but once he's comfortable, he becomes the world's #1 yapper (and its adorable)

I feel like he knows a lot about what's going on in the digital world, so when he regresses, he may or may not accidentally slip a small secret ☝️

He then will make you pinky promise to not tell anyone, or else he'll have to take away your pinky privileges.... hey! Stop laughing!! He's serious! (He's not)

I feel like sometimes he'd go nonverbal, especially when someone ends up abstracting. That's when you start singing to him. Get him to start singing along, and he's back to his usual self <3

All in all, Jax is just a little guy who has too much going on in his head. Give him some time and reassurance, and then maybe, it'll be a not so bad time in the Amazing Digital Circus!!

Thank you to @nostalgic-woodwind for the request! Lmk what you guys think, stay safe and stay kind to yourselves 💜

[inkmonster21]

Let Me In

Series Masterlist

Heath Ledger Joker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Welcome Home Pubbin’

💚🃏💜

The journey was swift, and soon enough, they arrived at the abandoned amusement park, their presence cloaked by the shadows of the night. The dimly lit park stood as a beacon, a symbol of chaos waiting to be unleashed.

The Joker entered the amusement park with a twisted sense of satisfaction. His footsteps echoed through the space as he walked around, taking in the surroundings.

As if on cue, the lights flicked on, illuminating the long abandoned park. The rides, once stagnant, now came to life, their mechanics whirring and grinding amidst their chaotic spins and rotations.

A wild smile curled on the Joker's face as the park came back to life, the amusement rides filling the air with their mechanical whirs and spins. The sudden change from silence to this chaotic symphony seemed fitting, a proper welcome into the madness.

In the heart of the reborn park, the Funhouse lit up like a beacon, its quirky facade calling out to the Joker's twisted sense of amusement. The bright lights and peculiar structure held a unique allure, beckoning him forward.

The distinct green and purple doors of the Funhouse slowly creaked open, the familiar colors drawing the Joker's gaze to the entrance. The sight of the open door seemed to beckon him forward, inviting him into a world of skewed mirrors, confusing mazes, and warped reflections.

The rest of the group chuckled knowingly as they observed the Joker disappear into the funhouse. They were well aware that he would be spending quite some time inside, engaging in whatever antics he had in store. After all, there was much to catch up on between you and him.

The moment the Joker stepped into the Funhouse, he was greeted by a sight that sent a wave of twisted delight through his veins. The walls were adorned with a menagerie of mirrors, each one distorted and warped, reflecting his image in warped and grotesque forms. Alongside those mirrors were framed photos, newspaper clippings, and sketches, all bearing his image, as if the entire structure had been dedicated to him. Yet, amidst the chaos, there were photographs of you, seamlessly integrated into the collection.

As the Joker ventured deeper into the funhouse, he came upon a long table, its surface covered by a vibrant purple cloth. The color scheme mirrored the chaos within his mind, perfectly in tune with his twisted sense of aesthetics.

Surrounding the table were a series of mismatched chairs, each one uniquely painted in vibrant colors. The haphazard arrangement of the chairs added to the chaotic atmosphere, their contrasting hues and styles reflective of the Joker's unpredictable nature.

Resting atop the table was a sight that would make one drool; a succulent roasted chicken, surrounded by an array of roasted vegetables and sides. The aromatic scent wafted through the air, intensifying the Joker's carnivorous hunger, his stomach growling in anticipation.

As the Joker sauntered closer, a sly smirk curled up on his face, his eyes glistening with an unsettling fervor. The scent of the meal filled his nostrils, driving his appetite to its limits. He greedily eyed the roasted chicken and sides, his hunger growing with each step forward.

The door to the side swung open, unveiling you in a form-fitting red babydoll dress, a smirk playing on your lips. The sight of you in that dress was a surprise, yet the Joker, ever the opportunist, seemed to relish the unexpected reveal.

"Welcome home, puddin," you purred, approaching the Joker with a sly smile. In your hands, you held a bowl of pudding, its contents perfectly complimenting the sweet nickname that slipped from your lips.

The Joker chuckled darkly, his eyes roaming over you. "You know me too well, dollface," he replied, the pet name rolling off his tongue with a hint of twisted affection. Unable to resist any longer, the Joker dipped his finger into the bowl of pudding, coating it with the sweet substance. He brought his finger to his lips, his gaze locked onto yours as he savored the taste.

A wicked smile spread across his face as the sweetness danced on his taste buds, "Delicious," he murmured, the word dripping with satisfaction. You set the bowl down and wrapped yourself around him, “you’re gonna spoil your dinner,”

Joker's arms instinctively found their way around your waist. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he felt your body press against his. "Spoiling dinner is half the fun, dollface," he quipped, his voice low and laced with a hint of mischief.

You led the Joker to the head of the table, gesturing for him to take the largest seat. The Joker, ever the king in his own mind, couldn't help but relish the notion of being seated in the most important chair. He grinned as he settled into the chair, feeling a sort of regal satisfaction.

As he took his seat, you made sure to fill his plate to its limits with the enticing meal before him. The aroma of the roasted chicken, the vibrant colors of the vegetables, and the tantalizing sides, perfectly arranged, created a feast of sensory delights. You placed the plate before him with a warm smile, knowing that the Joker, having endured days without proper meals in Arkham, was undoubtedly famished.

The Joker's gaze fixated on the overflowing plate, his stomach grumbling loudly. The sight of the mouthwatering meal before him was a sight for sore eyes, and he couldn't help but greedily eye the food with anticipation. He grinned, his eyes glinting with a manic glint, "Dollface, this looks delectable."

“Roasted Chicken. I thought it would be fitting.” The Joker chuckled, his thoughts drifting to the first time he had tasted your roasted chicken. "Ah, the memories," he said, a twisted nostalgia in his voice. "This was one of the first meals you ever made me, wasn't it?"

A grin graces your lips, “you remember.” "Of course I do," the Joker replied, his voice tinged with a dark kind of nostalgia. "How could I forget the first time I tasted your cooking? It left quite the impression, dollface."

As the Joker began to devour the meal, his appetite knew no bounds. The succulent roasted chicken, flavored with spices and seasonings, was cooked to perfection. Every bite seemed to bring a new wave of satisfaction to his expression, his eyes rolling back in delight. The vegetables and sides provided an accompaniment of flavors that complemented the main course flawlessly.

He ate with abandon, his manners temporarily forgotten as he relished every morsel. The Joker was a man of many contradictions, and even amid primal hunger, his eyes remained fixed on you, seemingly savoring the visual display just as much as the food itself.

As you watched him eat, your eyes filled with a blend of joy and admiration. It felt like a dream come true to have him back, sitting there in front of you, devouring the food you had prepared. The Joker's presence filled the space, and even the air itself seemed to crackle with an electric tension.

And then he finished, and the entire plate cleared. The Joker wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and sat back in his chair, looking satisfied as ever. "That was fantastic, dollface. You certainly haven't lost your touch."

The Joker noticed the wicked gleam in your eyes. He could sense the desire radiating from you. You had been waiting patiently, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on him. But for now, he was satisfied with the food you had so meticulously prepared for him. He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with a touch of seductive mischief, "Oh, dollface, I can see it in your eyes. You want a taste of me, don't you?"

You nodded, the desire in your eyes undeniable. It was clear that you were itching to get your hands on him, to feel his touch and his presence. "Yes," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and impatience.

The Joker's voice was firm and commanding, leaving no room for disobedience. All traces of the meal vanished as he casually tossed everything to the floor. With a mere gesture of his finger, he beckoned you toward him. "Come here," he repeated a dark undertone in his tone.

You obeyed without hesitation, crawling towards him on top of the table with a slow, seductive grace. The Joker's eyes followed your every move, his gaze fixated on you like a predator watching its prey. The atmosphere of the room changed, filled with a charged tension as you neared closer to him.

The moment you melted into his embrace and climbed into his lap, the Joker's arms encircled you with a possessive intensity. His touch was firm yet gentle, a contrast to his manic nature. It was as if he needed to feel your presence, to hold you fiercely and remind himself that you were real.

You reached out and ran your fingers through his wavy hair, it had grown much more, the green tips brushing his shoulders. Joker's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled you close, his lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was warm and demanding.

You melted into his embrace. Joker's arms encircled your neck with a possessive intensity. It was as if he needed to feel your presence, to hold you fiercely and remind himself that you were real. "I've been thinking about this for months," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin. "About you."

Your hands roamed over him, feeling the lean muscles beneath the striped inmate shirt. You wanted him, needed to feel him against you, inside you. With a gentle pull, you guided him back to the kitchen table, your kisses growing more urgent.

As your back touched the table, Joker’s hands slid under your dress to caress your bare skin. You arched your back, inviting his touch, your breath coming in short gasps. His fingers traced the curves of your body, igniting a fire within you.

"You got all pretty for me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "You’re too sweet, dollface.”

Joker's hands moved to pull your panties down your legs, exposing your wetness to his hungry gaze. You were on fire, your body throbbing with need. Joker's eyes darkened further as he took in the sight of your bare pussy, glistening with arousal. He dropped to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs as he buried his face between your legs.

His tongue was like a flame, licking and teasing your sensitive clit. You moaned, gripping his hair as he devoured you, his mouth sucking and licking in a rhythm that drove you wild. His fingers plunged into your wetness, curling, and stroking, finding that sweet spot that sent you spiraling towards ecstasy.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" you cried out, your hips bucking against his mouth. "Don't stop, please!"

Joker's response was to increase the intensity, his tongue flicking and thrusting, driving you closer to the edge. Your orgasm is built, a coiled spring ready to snap. And when it hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

As you came down from your high, Joker stood, his eyes burning with raw, primal hunger. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth again, his kiss fierce and possessive. You could taste yourself on his lips, a heady mix of flavors that only fueled your desire.

"I need you," he growled, his voice rough with need. You didn't need any further encouragement. You reached for the waistband of his pants, your fingers trembling with eagerness. With a swift motion, you pulled it down, revealing his thick, throbbing cock.

Joker kicked off the pants, freeing himself from any constraints. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing against your sensitive folds, leaving a trail of pre-cum. You were ready, more than ready, for him. With a single thrust, he filled you, stretching and claiming you in one smooth motion.

You gasped at the sensation, your body welcoming his invasion. Joker's cock was like a hot steel rod, sliding deep within you, hitting all the right spots. He began to move, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, pounding into you with relentless passion. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, a primal rhythm that matched the beat of your heart.

"Yes, fuck me!" you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Harder!"

He obliged, his thrusts becoming wilder, rougher. The countertop beneath you shook with each powerful stroke, sending utensils and small appliances clattering to the floor. You didn't care about the mess; all you could focus on was the pleasure coursing through your body.

Joker's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. You were on the brink of another orgasm, your body tensing in anticipation. “Come for me, doll," he grunted, his breath hot on your neck. "Let me feel you."

His words were all it took. You exploded around him, your pussy clenching and pulsing, milking his cock as you rode the waves of pleasure. Joker followed soon after, his body tensing as he emptied himself on your pussy.

As your heart rates slowed, you lay there, entangled in each other's arms, catching your breath. The room was a mess, but neither of you cared. The leftovers, dishes, and puddin lay forgotten on the floor.

Joker's lips curved into a satisfied smile, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now that's what I call a welcome home present," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction.

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you kissed him gently, and with a tender gesture, you held his face close, tracing your fingers lightly along his scars, your voice filled with sincerity as you whispered, "I love you, Jack."

The Joker's usually twisted grin softened as he heard the sincerity in your words. He reveled in the way you held his face delicately, tracing his scars with tender affection. When you professed your love, calling him "Jack," a rare vulnerability shone through his usually maniacal gaze.

He placed a hand against the nape of your neck, his grip tight but not painful. He reciprocated your confession with a rare show of genuine emotion, "I know, doll," he murmured, his voice softened by the overwhelming weight of his own feelings.

The Joker held you close, savoring the moment of tranquility. Tomorrow, the city would be turned upside down as the infamous duo, the Joker and Harley Quinn, emerged to wreak havoc and chaos. The silence of tonight would be shattered by the symphony of their madness, and there would be no stopping them.

[stilleobjection]

🎬 Favorite First Watches for March

Tagged By: @urween (Thank you! 💜)

No Pressure Tags: @starfly-nicole @angelremnants @thefairyloveschaos @dollface-xoxo @callloki

I didn't watch any movies for the first time in March (that I can recall) but I have been watching a lot of anime and animation in general! I still have a whole list I am working on.

[humanmostlikely]

Pet names

🖤 Lucifer-

- Sweetheart

- Troublemaker

- Little one

🤎 Mammon-

- Babe/Baby

- Doll/Dollface

- Sweet cheeks

🧡 Levi-

- Henry/Various characters you remind him of

-Player two

- Y/N-chan/kun/kohai (opposite of senpai) (no matter how young he may look, he’ll always be older than you)

💛 Satan-

- Kitten/Bunny/Some cute animal

- Mi amoré/“my love” in different languages

- My partner-in-crime

🩷 Asmo-

- Boo

- Sexy

- Cutie/Cutie pie

🍑 Beel-

- Cupcake

- Honey

- My cheeseburger

💙 Belphie-

- Sunshine

- Starlight

- Dream girl/boy

❤️ Diavolo-

- My one and only

- My treasure

- My everything

💚 Barbatos-

- Various flowers

- Dove

- Precious

🩵 Simeon-

- Lamb

- Dulcinea/Casanova

- Beloved

🤍 Solomon-

- Darling

- Heartthrob

- Soulmate

🫀Mephisto-

- Human

- Princess/Prince/Highness

- My dear

💜 Thirteen-

- Puddin’

- Pumpkin

- Love bug

🩶 Raphael-

- Love

- Beautiful/Handsome

- Something simple but cute like petal/snowflake/jewel, depending on your personality

Feel free to add any of you own 💞

[unpopara]

😡😡 dont worry dollface !!!!!!! 💜

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

Can I request headcanons for all 2003 boys react to gender neutral human reader is completely at awe seeing him save them, they immediately thanks him & told him he was so cool when he was fighting?

Thank You

🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 720

CW: Gender-neutral reader, just a wholesome reaction with the turtles, count it as a first meeting kind of scenario. Enjoy!

———

Getting attacked by some goons wasn’t on your to-do list tonight, but unfortunately, it seems like the universe didn’t care for your plans. Casually walking down the streets from a late-night shift, you heard some guy call out to you. Turning around, you see an unsettling sight of a group of men coming towards you. Feeling your alarm bells go off, you were quick to run away, not wanting to give them the chance.

Yet they chased you anyways, and in a stare or panic, you tried to lose them by taking cover in an alleyway. Hiding behind a dumpster, you put a hand over your mouth and take deep breaths to calm yourself as you heard the man from earlier say, “Search the area, I saw them turn down here.” And you felt your heart sink.

As you awaited the oncoming doom, you suddenly heard something land on the dumpster you were hiding behind, making you jump and squeak. As you froze, you heard sounds of men grunting, yells and thuds. After a moment of silence, you peek out, and see a giant mutated turtle kick the last grunt into the wall, knocking him out.

Pushing back the shock, you stand up slowly and come out, watching as the turtle breathed heavily, looking around at his surroundings, making sure he got the last of them, before he turned to you. His eyes widened when he saw you staring in awe at him, and his first instinct was to say, “Don’t scream.”

Instead of screaming, as he had expected, he heard a small, “Thank you, you’re an amazing fighter.” You tilt your head to the side, a smile resting on your face.

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 Leo’s heart jumped, and he wasn’t sure why. The genuine ‘thank you’ and kind smile made him thankful he was here today to protect you. Getting thank you’s were hard to come by, but hearing it now made him slightly melt inside, it fed into his small hero-complex he has.

💙 He wouldn’t show it outwardly that it means a lot to hear, but will just offer a small nod, “Just doing what I do, please stay safe out here.” before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in awe and to think about this night for ages.

💙 He certainly thinks about you too, and watches throughout the night as well. Whenever he sees you after a late-night shift, he’s following to make sure you make your way home safe and sound.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph was a little caught off guard by the genuine ‘thank you’, and honestly wasn’t sure how to react entirely. He just kinda stared at you and went, “What?”

❤️ When you repeat yourself, he takes a deep breath and all he can say is, “It’s no problem, Dollface, now get home.” He takes to the rooftop and follows you home to make sure nothing else happens to you.

❤️ After it finally sinks in when he’s repeating the memory in his head, it kind of inflates his ego, and it becomes one of his core memories.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Surprised by this, but smiles sweetly, “Hey, it’s no problem at all.” Donnie felt himself growing a little warm in the face by this expression of gratitude, especially since he’s just doing his job.

💜 He doesn’t receive a lot of gratitude for the things he does, so hearing it just feels so very nice. He would offer to help you home, as he wanted to make sure you were safe.

💜 Lots of small talk during the walk home. He waves goodbye to you from a rooftop before disappearing into the night, and everytime he sees you on each patrol he’s on, he’s greeting you and watching out for you.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 That wide smile across Mikey’s face spoke volumes, “Hey! No problem dude! And you can thank my master for these skills!” He’s spinning his nunchucks, showing off and getting a small laugh out of you.

🧡 He’s more willing to introduce himself than his brothers and he’s offering to take you home. Once you agree, he’s talking about everything and anything.

🧡 When he has to go, he’s pretty disappointed, but he swears he’ll see you again one way or another. And he keeps that promise too. Whenever he sees you he’s sneaking up on you and playing with you. It’s always a good time.

[theharrowing]

NO BUT I HAD THE SAME THOUGHT ABOUT COLLATERAL JUNGKOOK like, the way he flirts at Paradise. The ballet studio could be on fire and JK would be like "Come on, dollface, show me your dance moves." Biting his fucking lip and shit! With his shirt unbuttoned too far! Leaning way to close! AHHHHH!!!!!

LMAO HELLO, ANON!!! 💜

hahahaha yesssss!!! i see the vision, anon!!! i see it!!! jk really was wearing mc down in chapter 17 hahaha. and we all know that, after chapter 18, he's blowing up her phone, asking when she's coming to Paradise, telling her he could blow her back out seven days a week.

And we just know mc shows the messages to Yoongi and Namjoon, rolling her eyes while they tease her. 😅😅😅

you and @melancholy-of-nadia are onto something.

[snowberry-pie]

kythonos: hey dollface (not objectifying) (not dehumanizing) (as in you’re prettier than porcelain) (💕💜😘💗)

astarion: how are you saying that with your mouth

[dollfacecherryy]

Heyyy 🎀🤍 I’m Cherry but you could also call me DollFace . I’m 19 years old and this is just a little introduction ❕

My Birth Sign:Gemini ♊️

My Favorite Food:Pasta 😍

My Favorite Color:Light Pink 🎀

My Favorite Artists:Lana Del Rey & XXXtentacion🖤💛

My Pronouns:She/He/Fae

Sexuality:Bisexual 🩷💙💜

My Favorite Things:Spirituality , Shopping, Thrifting , Reading Poetry , Writing Songs, Listening to X

My Favorite Store:Spencer’s, Hobby Lobby

My Favorite Movie:Anything Horror 🖤

My Linktree for my other social medias : https://linktr.ee/dollfacecherry #dollfacecherry #dollface #newtotumblr #onlyfans #y2k #emogirl #gothicgirl #pastelgoth #pinkgoth

[inkmonster21]

Let Me In

TDK Joker x Batgirl!Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: first date vibes, manipulation, talk of violence

It’s Roasted Chicken

💚🃏💜

The nervous energy coursing through your veins was palpable. You found yourself pacing your home, triple-checking everything from the chicken in the oven to the arrangement of the silverware on the table. You kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until Jay's arrival.

You had taken particular care in selecting your attire for the evening. You wanted to look nice, but you didn't want to appear overly formal or overdressed. You settled on a simple yet stylish outfit: a button-up sweater paired with a pair of comfortable jeans. The soft fabric of the sweater hugged your figure just right, and the jeans accentuated your curves.

As you were carefully maneuvering the chicken out of the oven, the unexpected ring of your phone interrupted your concentration. You set the roasting pan on the counter and hurried to answer the call, hoping it wasn't a last-minute cancellation from Jay. Pressing the phone to your ear, you took a deep breath and greeted, "Hello?"

"It's me," came Jay's voice on the other end of the line. You could immediately tell it was him by the unique rasp in his words. Joker squinted at the sprawling mansion at the end of the driveway. "You sure this is the place, dollface?" he asked with a hint of mockery in his voice.

You laughed at his tone, “Yeah I’m sure, Jay.” you walk towards the front door where the buzzer is to unlock the gate, “letting you in now.” "Alright, doll, I trust ya," Joker said, feigning nonchalance. The iron gate creaked open, and he rolled through the entrance, his gaze roaming over the grand property.

As he meandered along the driveway, Joker's thoughts drifted into darker territory. The mansion's opulence and seclusion weren't lost on him. It could very well be the perfect hideout, a potential backup plan. He parked his battered car, adorned with a fake license plate, and stepped out. Adjusting his plain black t-shirt, he began the walk to the front door. The manic gleam in his eyes was hidden beneath a layer of deceptive normalcy.

Hearing the knock on the door, you called out, "Coming!" before heading to the front door and opening it. There he stood, a stark contrast to the world he truly inhabited. With a plain black t-shirt and casual jeans, he looked like a normal guy. "Hey," he replied, the casual greeting rolling off his tongue effortlessly. The Joker couldn't help but marvel at how easy this act was, how his charming alter ego, "Jay," seamlessly blended in.

A small smile graced your lips, a hint of a blush tinting your cheeks. "Hey, I'm glad you found the place," you said, a mix of shyness and satisfaction at having him here. Your eyes darted momentarily to the floor before looking up again, meeting his gaze with a touch of vulnerability.

He chuckled softly at the slight hint of embarrassment in your voice. It was satisfying to see the effect he could have without even trying. "Well, doll, it wasn't too difficult. Home like this is pretty hard to miss, don’t you think?" He smirked, the familiar gleam in his eyes betraying his true self.

He stepped over the threshold, his gaze wandering over the well-maintained house. The smell of food filled the air, and Joker inhaled deeply, appreciating the effort you had put into preparing this dinner.

"Smells fantastic," he remarked, the subtle compliment slipping out effortlessly, a testament to his acting skills. The Joker never complimented anyone, but playing the part required him to be on his best behavior.

Your smile widened as you led the way into the kitchen, a hint of anticipation in your step. "It's roasted chicken," you announced, the aroma of the meal filling the air. He followed you into the kitchen, glancing at the roasted chicken you had prepared, the golden, perfectly cooked chicken resting on a plate. The sight of it was appetizing.

He noticed your intent to lift the hot pan and swiftly interjected, his instincts taking over. "Watch it, doll," he said, approaching you. "Let me handle that. You’re gonna burn yourself." Despite the seemingly caring gesture, there was a hint of possessiveness in his tone. He didn't want you to harm yourself, even if it was just a minor kitchen accident. The Joker was always careful with what he considered his.

You smiled at him, “Just through here,” He picked up the plate of fragrant chicken with ease, his strong arms making easy work of it. He followed you through the kitchen into the dining room, his eyes scanning the well-furnished space.

The table was already set elegantly, and the sight of it all made him raise an eyebrow. The Joker was used to eating on the run and stealing bites from random street vendors. But this? This was a whole different level of civility.

He chuckled at the irony of the situation, looking around the spacious house adorned with expensive items. "Quite a place you got here, doll," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and sarcasm. "You were telling me about the snobs and posh rich folks?"

You shrugged, “it’s just a house. It’s just money. It means nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow at your response, a small smirk playing on his lips. The Joker had to admit, something was intriguing about your indifference towards material possessions. "Just a house, eh?" he repeated, his tone laced with intrigue. "You don't seem too impressed by all this luxury."

You fix him a plate as you speak, “I never asked for it. It’s just how I grew up. Then I just ended up with it.”

He took the plate from you, his gaze focused on you as you spoke. The Joker couldn't help but be fascinated by your nonchalance towards wealth.

"You got a whole mansion and everything that comes with it, yet you act like it's just another day?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Most people would uh kill to be in your shoes. Why aren't you living it up like a pampered princess?"

“Most people in this city find me… undeserving of the things I have.”

He nodded, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Well, they’re missing out," The Joker could sense the disdain you faced from the privileged residents.

The Joker watched you as you looked at your food, a warm smile on your face. Despite the wealth surrounding you, there was a simplicity in your happiness that he found strangely captivating.

Small talk usually bored him, but with you, it felt different. The Joker found himself genuinely engaged in the conversation, his usual restlessness nowhere to be seen. You asked about his work and his interests, and he responded without hesitation, seamlessly playing the role of the average Jay without revealing his true self.

The question hung in the air as you sat across from him, the roasted chicken still steaming on the plate before you. "So, what do you do for work?" you inquired, shifting the conversation to a more personal level. Your curious gaze met his, awaiting his response, eager to learn more about him beyond the mysterious persona he seemed to carry.

His response was nonchalant, a shrug of indifference accompanying his words. "Oh, you know, bit of this, bit of that," he replied, his tone casual yet evasive. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze scanning the kitchen before returning to your face. "It's nothing exciting," he continued, offering a vague description of his work. "Just some odd jobs here and there. Keeps the bills paid." Each word carried a hint of deception, his true nature concealed behind the facade of mundanity.

As the meal continued, The Joker found himself more at ease than he had expected. Being surrounded by wealth and luxury, he thought he would feel out of place, a wolf among the sheep. But the genuine conversations and the lack of pretense, ironically enough, was a pleasant change from the usual schemes and mayhem he thrived in.

As you spoke of your past, he saw glimpses of something within you that mirrored his chaotic nature. Your words echoed his own experiences, the sense of not belonging in a world of wealth and conformity. He found himself drawn to those similarities, a connection formed in the most unexpected of places.

As you inquired about his past, the Joker found himself surprisingly unguarded in his responses. His usual knack for twisting the truth was absent, replaced by a rare openness. Joker let out a laugh, the sound tinged with bitter amusement. "Trouble followed me like a shadow, doll," he said, the words slipping from his lips effortlessly. "My father? Ah, we never saw eye to eye."

His expression darkening slightly, he nodded. "Beating me up, putting me down, telling me I was good for nothing, not worth a shit." He chuckled bitterly, a touch of despair in the sound. "And my mother? She was too busy popping pills and drowning in her misery to care. Wasn't much of a mother, that one."

You gleamed at him, finding so many similarities, “that’s how my mother was. My dad would go off crazy and she’d just sit there and… do nothing.”

The shared understanding in your words struck a chord within him. "Yeah," he said gruffly, his gaze meeting yours, "That's how it is. They were just too far gone in their vices to even see us."

A moment of poignant silence hung between you. The shared experience of absentee parents fueled a connection that ran deeper than either of you could have expected.

As the last sips of wine were poured and the empty plates were set aside, a comfortable silence lingered in the air. The Joker, usually restless, found himself strangely at ease in this moment. The wine had loosened his guard, and the night had taken an unexpectedly pleasant turn.

But the Joker didn’t do this. He didn’t enjoy his time with others. Especially someone intimately. Or at least, he thought he didn't. But as the evening had worn on, he found glimpses of sensations that had long eluded him. It was as if your presence, the warmth of your conversation, had stirred something dormant within him.

Initially, it was all just a game. A performance to play the part of an average Joe and earn your trust. But as the night wore on, the act was growing increasingly difficult to sustain. The lines between the Joker and the persona of “Jay” were blurring, and he found himself genuinely enjoying your company, forgetting the role he was supposed to play.

The Joker watched you as you cleared the table, his gaze following your every move. The sight of you, so content and at ease amid luxury, was both intriguing and baffling to him. He was used to chaos and mayhem, not domestic tranquility. Yet, there was something about your simplicity that fascinated him, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

As you placed the plates in the sink, the Joker observed you intently. The normalcy of the action, something he never experienced, was almost hypnotizing. He leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving you. It was as if doing something as mundane as washing dishes was a revelation to him.

The Joker chuckled seeing your surprised expression as you turned and nearly jumped, not realizing he was so close. Leaning against the counter, he couldn't resist finding amusement in your startled reaction. “Didn't mean to give you a fright, doll,” he said, a sly smile playing on his lips.

You shook your head in response, a small smile playing on your lips as you reassured him, "You didn't." Your casual stance against the countertop mirrored his own nonchalant demeanor, creating an atmosphere of comfortable closeness.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "Oh?" He smirked, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between you, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. "You seemed uh startled for a moment there," he said, his voice low and teasing.

The Joker leaned closer, his arms trapping you against the counter. The proximity was electrifying, his gaze locking onto yours as he spoke, "You're a terrible liar, doll," he whispered, his breath ghosting across your skin.

The air seemed to palpate with tension as he encroached on your personal space, his body leaning in closer. The Joker's eyes bore into yours, a mix of amusement and something darker flickering within them. "You're not scared of me, are ya?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

The distance between you and him felt like electricity, the air crackling with unspoken tension. You leaned in closer, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, your voice soft and slightly sultry. "Not one bit," you assured him, your words a breathy whisper that sent a shiver down both of your spines.

Your gaze fixated on his mouth, drawn to the scars that marred his skin. The contrast between the smooth, unblemished flesh and the jagged scars drew you in, like a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Your thoughts became consumed by the urge to touch him, to feel those scars beneath your fingertips, to soothe the pain they represented. But most of all, you craved to kiss him, to taste the bittersweet reality of his existence.

His smirk widened, a glint of desire in his eyes. "Mmm, I like that," he said, his voice a rough whisper. The Joker's gaze never wavered from yours as he closed the remaining distance, his body brushing against yours, igniting a wave of heat between you.

The moment hung in the air, charged with anticipation. The Joker's gaze locked onto your lips, his eyes darkening with desire. He leaned in, his face only millimeters from yours, his breath hot against your skin. The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken need. Just as your lips were about to touch, he paused, the intensity of the moment suspended in the air.

His gaze lingered, studying your reaction, searching for any sign of hesitation. But he saw none. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of excitement and curiosity, and it only fueled the growing fire within him. The Joker's lips curled into a smirk, his words a whisper "Doll, you have no idea the things I want to do to you... "

The Joker's restraint snapped, and he leaned into you, his body pressing against yours. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hands moving to grip your waist, pulling you closer. There was no gentleness in his touch, only a primal need that fueled the fire burning between you.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He pushed you against the counter, pinning you with his weight, his body pressed against yours. The Joker's grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as if he were afraid you would slip away.

The sudden ring of his phone broke the passionate moment, a jarring intrusion into the intimate bubble you had created. The Joker's expression shifted instantly, irritation marring his features as he pulled back, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

He grunted, clearly irritated by the interruption, but he withdrew the phone from his jacket pocket, his gaze reluctantly leaving yours. The call, it seemed, was important, and he had to take it. "What?" His tone was sharp, annoyance lacing his words. Whoever was on the other end of the line had better have a good reason for ruining the moment.

The person on the other end spoke urgently, the words lost on you. The Joker's expression shifted, his irritation replaced by urgency. You could see that something was amiss, though you were unable to hear the specifics of the conversation.

He hung up the phone and let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at you. It was clear that something had come up, something important enough to tear him away from the moment. "Gotta go, doll," he said, a touch of apology in his words. "Something important has uh come up."

Your frustration and the heat that surged through your body became almost overwhelming, yet you held back, understanding the limits of the moment. "Okay," you replied, resigned to the constraints of the current situation. Your voice was tinged with both desire and restraint, a culmination of conflicting emotions that warred within you.

His gaze lingered on your face, torn between the urge to stay and the obligation to leave. "Believe me, doll," he said, his voice lowering to a rough whisper, "I'd uh rather be here with you." His eyes roved over your body, taking in every curve and contour, the hunger in his gaze only intensifying. He stepped closer, his hand grazing your hip, a touch that sent shivers down your spine. "But duty calls," he muttered, his grip tightening for a moment before he reluctantly pulled away.

As you walked him to the door, a sense of bittersweet wistfulness settled over you. The night had been filled with a mix of delightful conversations and tantalizing moments, leaving you both wanting more, yet you knew it was time to part. "It was a nice night, Jay," you said, your words carrying a hint of sadness, yet tinged with gratitude as well. "Thank you."

He stopped at the door, turning to face you with a mixture of reluctance and admiration. "It was my pleasure, doll," he said, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail to memory.

He grabbed you forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep, filled with a heady mix of desire and frustration. He leaned in, his face close to yours, the distance between your lips so tantalizingly close. Yet he held back, his smirk growing wider. "Don't miss me too much, doll," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving you there, longing for more. The door closed with a thud, extinguishing the warmth of his presence, and leaving a deafening silence in its wake. As his car disappeared down the driveway, you were left standing there, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions you'd just experienced.

The night was over, your house feeling empty and devoid of life. You couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gripped your heart. The taste of his kiss remained fresh on your lips, a tantalizing reminder of the brief moments you shared. The desire to feel his touch, to be enveloped in his embrace, consumed your thoughts. Yet, he was no longer there, and you were left alone with the bittersweet memory of the evening.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, packing leftover food into containers, your thoughts wandering to the similarities you shared with Jay. You pondered the common threads of parental abuse and neglect that had shaped your lives, the sense of isolation and abandonment that seemed to follow both of you like a shadow. Yet, amidst the understanding, you found a glimmer of connection. Somehow, despite the pain and the scars you both bore, a strange familiarity drew you closer to him.

You couldn't ignore the significance of those words that Jay had spoken to you. The way he had understood your past, the pain and trauma that you had endured, and accepted it without judgment. It was a stark contrast to the reactions you had received from others in your life. "He understood," you murmured to yourself, a sense of relief and validation coursing through you. "And he told me it was okay. No one has ever done that before."

[stilleobjection]

Thank you for the tags @cueloki and @thefairyloveschaos 🥰

No Pressure Tags: @starfly-nicole @angelremnants @urween @dollface-xoxo @callloki @cats-chaotic-mind @lagunapoint @buckysxbarnes @bucky-obsessed and anyone else who may want to join 💜 I hope you are all doing well!

i found a cool tag game on twitter and i really wanna import it (o^ ^o)

this picrew + the last song you listened to :]

no pressure tags: @blood-loving-leech @overtaken-boredom @lesbianthatyaps @kameonerd566 @hexedvampire @laczki @anonymous-shxtposter @fleurafae @flovqy + anyone who wants to do it <3

[madworldsstuff]

A real Dollface Ana De Armas 🧡❤🧡💜❤❤💜💖🧡💖💙💙