#🃏; joker’s notes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harlesluvsyou · 3 months

Text

🃏─────BUNNY

in which, joker burns

with jealously, and reminds you

that you’re his ❞

ledger!joker x f!reader, NSFW (18+), jealousy, hate/make-up sex(if you squint), hair pulling, smut, gun play, knife play, blood play, breath play/choking, slapping, joker is joker, threats, VERY toxic situation ship! tho i write this, its never to glorify any of the especially cruel actions. keep this in mind and read at your own caution and leisure.

Your date with Danny- Dave? You weren’t sure- had gone just like the other four had, boring and leaving your heart aching for your clown prince of crime. You two, Joker and you, had gotten close after he stayed at your apartment for a month after robbing a nearby bank. He had threatened to kill you if you didn’t let him stay- it ended up though the only killing he was doing was between your legs. You both grew very fond of one another- and then one day, you woke up and he was gone- in his stead, a note telling you he’d be back soon. You had waited for what felt like forever, weeks and weeks passing you by with no sign of him. So, you did what any normal girl would do and moved on.

You walk through your apartment door, grumbling to yourself about how bad the food was at the restaurant you had been at not too long ago. You hear the sound of your TV, perhaps you had forgotten to turn it off? It’s when you hear a low hum that you snap your head towards the sound. You could recognize that voice from anywhere.

You stiffen when you see him there, sitting on your couch with his legs propped up on your coffee table. The TV on and illuminating your living room. His dark eyes flicker to your form, and in your daze you forget that you’re holding a bouquet of roses- and they most certainly aren’t from the man in front of you. “Uh, hi?” He drawls, looking as if he was expecting a much warmer welcome.

He looks like a dream, his head lulled to the side as he tongues the side of his mouth- his tongue flickering over his red colored lips. His hair combed back and his greasepaint just as messy as you remembered. His eyes are a dark ebony, trailing up and down your form and stopping momentarily at the flowers you have squeezed in your grip.

His purple coat and his green vest are draped across the back of your couch and are long forgotten by the time your eyes run over his body again. All he wears is his button up, the fabric tight around his shoulders and his biceps- his tie is loose, hanging limply around his neck. You watch as the muscles in his thigh flex underneath his pinstripe purple pants. His hands are still covered by his leather gloves and God, do you wish they were around your neck.

He looks so beautiful it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

You shudder as he sits up, his argyle patterned sock clad feet hitting your rug as he cracks his neck. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he man spreads. You swallow thickly, watching as he fidgets with his hands and you have to work hard to pull your eyes away from the way his pants become tight around his groin.

You take a step back the second he shoots up from the couch, your shoulders pulled up to your ears as your whole body tenses. You try your best to discretely kick off your heels, inching towards the door as he begins his slow walk towards you. He’s fucking tall, taller than you remember as he approaches you like a hunter approaches their prey. Your muscles lock up, your mind telling you to run as his broad shoulders poke into your personal space. He’s too quiet, his lips twitching and his body a scary mixture of fluid and rigid.

You’re scared he will hurt you before you get the chance to explain yourself.

For a moment, you mistake the furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes as kindness- you don’t know how you make this mistake- maybe because you thought you knew him better than you do and because the light catches his eyes just right. Making them twinkle with a golden and pretty brown that’s so familiar and beautiful it swallows you whole. Your shoulders fall and you relax. You think for a moment he’s calmed down and you’re immediately given whiplash when he snatches you up by your hair. You gasp, your back colliding harshly with your apartment door. Pain explodes across your body, your lips pulling into a sneer as your eyes squeeze together. Your scalp burns, your hands dropping the bouquet and flying up to hold onto his forearm as he looks down at you.

“I, uh, leave you alone for not even,” he smacks his lips, “a month!” You don’t argue, though it’s been a bit over a month since you last saw him. “And now loo-k at you, doll…” A sidelong glance with some consideration and you realize he’s picking his words carefully. He wants to make sure his words split you in two, breaking your heart and really hitting you where it hurts. “Being a pretty little slutttttt for someone else, hm? If flowers was, hah, all it took to get you to spread your legs…I would’ve gotten you flowers ages ago, baby doll.”

His grip on your hair tightens and despite the even and amused tone of his voice you know him at least well enough to know to be afraid. He smells like cedar and gasoline and you cry out as he slams your head against the door again. You open your eyes, tears filling them as fear grips at your heart tightly. You’re barely on your tippy toes, your feet flexing as they ache for proper ground.

“N-No! It’s not like that, J! P-Please, please believe me.” You choke out as your chest heaves, terrified by the way rage swims and sparks in his irises. You’re horrified when you realize you’re actually enjoying this, excitement coiling in your gut, tangling around your terror until you can’t tell them apart. You hope he doesn’t realize, but you know he does when he quirks an eyebrow- his lips turning from a frown into a knowing smile. Your words don’t seem to soothe the flame ablaze in his eyes, it only seems to heighten it as he drops you to the floor.

You stay there like that, cradling your head as he steps over you. All of your muscles seize up as the door behind you locks with a click. A second one doesn’t sound, meaning he left the top lock undone. You raise a shaking head, your eyes wide and doe-like. He laughs, and you’re sure that that’s what the devil sounds like.

Why does it sound so compelling? So magnetizing?

His lipstick is slightly smudged, the red making his scars look angry and the little lightning in your entryway highlighting every crack and crease in his greasepaint. “You, uh, scared, babydoll?” He drawls, cocking his head mockingly. One of his hands runs through his hair as he looks down at you. He’s faster than you remember, and you’re dragged up to your feet before you can even utter a word.

The grip on your wrist is punishing and you cry out in pain as he squeezes you tighter. “You sho-uld be.” He clicks his tongue, your legs shaking and your knees threatening to give out underneath his heated glare. He pulls you into him, breathing in your scent and placing his hands on your hips. They feel like fire against your clothed skin.

You squirm and cry out when his fingers tighten- the pressure becomes so harsh that you think for a moment your bones will snap. You’re certain you will at least be bruised and in agony by tomorrow morning. “Tell me, because I am, oh. So. Curious..” He hisses, and you try to pull away from him again when he begins to back you into your apartment. Your hips flush and his body too close to you. “Did you think..that I, uh, wouldn’t come to visit my favorite little bun-ny? That, I, me, me, me, me! Your sweet beau- your villainous lover, wouldn’t see all the pretty gifts in your room and wait for you to come home so that I could, uh, discuss the fact you’ve been a little unfaithful whore?”

You say nothing, swallowing your words and biting back the fact he’s much less than a lover if he only returns to you and comes around when it benefits him. You know better than to speak out of line when he’s like this- valuing your life and all your teeth. If you talk back, you might end up with a broken bone or two.

His eyes are like black mercury, evil and unnatural- something dangerous navigating the depths as he takes a deep breath and sighs. Eventually, your knees hit the back of the couch and you fall into it- the plushness of the fabric feeling like heaven against your flushed skin. The moment of peace doesn’t last long as he grabs you by your hair, you kick and scream as he drags you up the couch. When he releases you, you’re on your back- your tear filled eyes blinking up at him owlishly as he stares down at you.

You do your best to ignore the way heat seems to trickle down into your panties from your lower abdomen.

His hands grab ahold of your bare thighs as he sits at your feet, tugging you down and pulling your thighs over his own. Your dress has ridden up all the way, exposing your lace purple underwear- the way he growls shows his approval and appreciation. He did always love when you wore his colors.

After what feels like a forever— in reality, it could’ve been a minute or two or ten, it would’ve made no difference to you—his lips attack yours. You kiss back instantaneously, and you blame it on muscle memory when your hands bury themselves into his hair- the locks soft against your fingertips. Kissing him is like second nature, it comes as easily to you as breathing and you shudder when he grinds himself against you.

You breathe in his scent, relishing in his touch and the way his gloved hands pull up your dress even further. He kneads your exposed flesh gently, and you remember why you had missed him so much. You gasp, throwing your head back and breaking the kiss when his hand suddenly strikes you. Stinging pain blossoms across your skin, and you watch with low eyes as he sticks one of his hands at a time in his mouth. He catches his gloves between sharp teeth, dragging them off of his hands and throwing them to the side.

“I-I fucking hate you.” You sneer, trying more so to convince yourself than him. He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side as he huffs a laugh through his nose. He knows you better than anyone, knows that you need him more than the air you breathe or the food you eat. He knows that you’re shaking underneath him not just because of fear.

He nods. “Uh huh. Care to, uh, put your money where your mouth is, sweetness?” You don’t get the chance to reply as you have to bite back a moan when his hands touch you again, his warmth so familiar and so sweet that it leaves you needy and wordless- all your sass disappearing. His hands carelessly pull down the top of your dress, your breasts bouncing out as he growls and leans down. He rolls one of your nipples harshly between his thumb and forefinger, his lips and teeth working on the other until your back is arching and your skin is being painted with red, white and black.

He pulls back and gives you a toothy grin as he yanks your sensitive bud hard. His hands trail down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your underwear. He snaps it against your skin. “It’s a real shame, I really like this color on you.” His tongue flicks out to lick the corner of his mouth as he suddenly wraps all of his fingers around the side of your panties.

You try to tell him to wait, but by the time you even choke the word out- your lace underwear is in his hand, leaving red marks on your skin where the fabric rubbed against your tender flesh while he ripped it off of you. You don’t stay mad about it for long when he begins to unbutton his shirt slowly, watching with barely concealed amusement when your eyes stay trained on each section of tattooed and scarred skin that comes into view.

He throws his shirt to the side before taking off his tie and draping it over your own neck. The gentle fabric feels like a noose even if it’s loose for now. It kisses your collarbones and lays flat between your falling and rising chest. You ogle him, his abs poking out beneath marred skin as he chuckles at your obvious attraction.

“What? You, uh, like what you see, hm, bunny?” He coos, and in your humiliation you don’t even realize what you’re doing until the back of your hand strikes his face. Your wrist is in his grip immediately, his eyes darkening as his own hand cracks against your cheek.

Your head snaps to the side, your head swimming for a moment as the stinging tingles and moves across the surface of your skin. “Tha-t wasn’t very nice, I’ve been, uh, very patient with you. Don’t mistake it for….kindness, doll.” He laughs before groaning at the dazed look in your eyes.

Fuck, he hit you hard.

“If I let you go, will you, uh, be-have?” He utters quietly, and he smiles as you nod rapidly. He drops your hands before diving back down to kiss you. His bare chest brushes against yours as his lips devour you, teeth nibbling and drawing blood from your delicate mouth as he works his hands through your hair. He pulls harshly, snapping your head back as his greasepaint begins to rub off on your neck. He kisses your throat sloppily, taking extra care at your artery. He nibbles the skin, shuddering as he feels your pulse accelerate.

Jesus, you feel like you’re going to pass out.

Your legs spread when he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a knife that has his initial carved into the handle. He flicks it open and brings it to the curve of your tits, you curse when it brushes you. It barely touches your flesh- but it splits anyways. Immediately, your skin begins to weep red- how sharp is that knife?

“What happened to all that, uh, moxie?”

His tongue laps up your blood, making the small incision in your skin sting even more. The pain and pleasure of everything mix together, your head swims as he finally- finally, unzips his pants. The sound rings in your head as he pushes your head down by your hair so you can watch the show.

He makes you stare as he pulls himself out of his boxers- surprisingly perfectly shaved— and lines up with your entrance. You shudder, and you glance up through your lashes. You beg him with your eyes, your whole body alight with nervousness and fear as you shake. You want to plead with him, ask him to be gentle- but you know it would all be for not. He laughs at your pathetic display, smirking down at you.

He pushes in slowly, and you grit your teeth as he fills you- every inch and vein and perfect curve of his cock brushing against your walls. The stretch is agonizing, forcing your delicate skin to accommodate his girth. He’s big and it hurts- your wetness doing nothing to ease the discomfort as he groans. You clamp around him like a vice. “You missed me, didn’t you, doll?” He chuckles out, sweat glistening on his forehead as his eyebrows furrow.

He leans over you, resting on his forearms and entangling one of his hands in your hair as his back curves. He pulls out slowly before pushing back in, and you gasp as the fire within him begins to root itself inside of you. The desire you feel runs rampant, consuming your every thought as his hips rock into you. Your couch squeaks uselessly as he pistions his hips so hard that you know you’ll be bruised. He sets an even tempo, fast and hard and ruining as he takes your heated skin between teeth.

“Oh- fuck- God!~” You cry, your muscle tightening as your pleasure spikes. Your jaw drops, your eyes screwing shut as oxygen you desperately needed left you in a wanton gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

When you open your eyes he’s frowning down at you, his eyes dark and his eyebrows furrowed. “I have no clue what you’re, uh, calling to God for.” He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “He can’t hear you when you’re being corrupted by dirty criminal filth like me.” He growls, nibbling on your tender skin and laughing at you when you whine louder than before. “Oh, ho, ho! Little miss innocent isn’t so innocent after all, hm? Does that make you ho-t and botherrrred? Knowing that you’re letting a mass murderer use your pretty little cunt to get off?” He chuckles out, not even half as breathless as you as he forms his sentences easily.

He leans back, pulling your calves over his shoulders as he fucks into you. Your head is thrown back, your hands buried into the fabric of your couch as one of his hands run down your stomach. You groan when his hands brush against your breasts- and then hiss when he purposefully pushes into the cut he had made earlier. You go to cuss at him but find your voice lost and your heart immediately forgiving him as his thumb brushes against your clit. Need sparks in your chest, heat flooding between your legs as you shake helplessly. Your pleasure is all you can focus on, your body writhing beneath him. He works your body perfectly, moving his thumb expertly against your heat and making you dizzy with pleasure.

You squirm, every single one of your nerves screaming as he pulls out. He tucks his knife between his teeth and roughly rolls you onto your stomach. One of his hands press your head into a pillow, your arms wrapping around the plush fabric to ground yourself as he enters you again with one smooth motion. He takes his knife out from his mouth and tucks it back into his pants as he fucks you. You can feel the electricity underneath your skin crackle when his hands come into contact with your skin. He kneads your flesh gently, and the sound of slapping skin and breathless moans fill the air.

He rolls his hips, his tip kissing your cervix and leaving you screaming into the pillow. “Shut up.” He growls suddenly, all form of patience leaving his body as he finds the tie around your neck. “You’re, hah, enjoying this a bi-t too much. Look at the timeee!” He drawls, tsking and shaking his head from behind you. “So late and you’re so louuuud..wouldn’t want to wa-ke, uh, your neighbors, would we?” He yanks it back, tightening the tie around your throat and cutting off your air supply. He laughs loudly as you gag and choke at the sudden loss of oxygen, your neck snapping back as he forces your back to arch into the couch.

You feel delirious, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your core pulls taut. You choke out a whimper, your orgasm quickly approaching when he shifts his hips and buries himself into you at an angle. Pleasure makes your brain go blank- and he must realize it when he laughs. “Oh? Found your swe-et spot, did we?”

He drives into you over and over again, fucking that spot raw until you think you’ll burst if you don’t cum. Your thighs shake, your muscles spasming as you choke out cries and pleads. Your walls flutter around him, the lack of air rendering you so dizzy that black spots pop up in your vision. The pleasure overwhelming as your head clears for a moment, and then is dragged under the depths once again.

You drown in your desire as his hand cracks against your ass. The pain dances with your euphoria so beautifully that it all feels the same to you. “That little boy toy of yours can’t fuck you like I do, hm? Can’t make you, uh, beg for more or for pain? Can’t fuck you senseless- can’t make you a shaking, crying, fucked out mess beneath him?” He asks, and is delighted when you shake your head- murmuring in agreement as you shudder. Suddenly he slows down, his eyes rolling over to the boy who stands wide eyed in your entryway. “Hear that, loverboy?”

In your pleasure, you hadn’t heard the creak of the door or the voice calling for you- telling you that you had forgotten your phone. You hadn’t heard when Daniel- Derrick…maybe, said the door was locked and he had let himself in using the key under the mat because he heard you scream and was oh so very worried- especially when he saw the roses on the floor. You hadn’t heard any of that or the slap as a box of chocolates fell from his hands in his shock. “C’mon baby. Show the eager crowd what you’ve, ah, got! You are tonight’s en-ter-tainment after all..”

You look to the brunette man, your whole body shivering and your face ruined by mascara running down your cheeks. Your eyes go wide in terror, and you want to shot yourself when you realize you don’t feel any guilt or shame. You mean, it was only the fifth date? He didn’t even know your middle name to be fair- and for the life of you, you couldnt even remember his.

You cry, your eyebrows furrowing as Joker reaches underneath you and between your legs. His eyes don’t leave the heartbroken boy at all as he begins to fuck you as harshly as he had been before. Your body arches into him, you lean deliberately into his touch- craving what only he can give. “What? Something’s eatin ya? You, uh, wishin’ you could be me- fucking dollface here? Or are you wishin’ you could be her? I’d get it, I’m, hah, a very good fuck after all.” He huffs, laughing and twisting your clit between his hands and forcing you towards an orgasm that will crush you. “Can you, uh, tell by the look on her face? Isn’t she so pretty when she’s fucked stupid?” He yanks the tie back, revealing your, as he called it, “fucked-stupid” face. Your mouth goes between hanging open and your teeth clamping together tightly as you fight for air. Your eyebrows drawn together and your eyes alternating between being squeezed shut and half lidded as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity he rolls his hips forward and presses on your clit. He’s all around you, his scent and his voice and his touch. The humiliation, the desire, the hatred and love. It eats up all rationality and shame you have and your whole body locks up- the coil in your stomach snapping and going haywire- brushing against every vein and nerve ending and setting you on fire. Your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as he finally lets go of the tie and allows you to breathe. Shivers rack your whole body, and you’re certain if it weren’t for his hand on your back- pressing you down- you would’ve jumped off the couch like a woman possessed.

Your orgasm rips through your body, ripples of vicious animalistic desire filling your chest and making you whine. He never stops thrusting, never stops laughing and mocking you and the man who had walked in on your little “play date,” as he would call it. He groans when you call his name, sweat coating his body as his muscles flex from the effort it takes to not seriously hurt you. He really, reaaaaally fucking wants to. Joker knows he could kill you right now, you’re so vulnerable and it would be so easy to snap your little neck. You’d die while having one of the most earth shattering orgasms you’d ever have.

But the second of satisfaction he would gain from feeling your bones give way to him? Well, it would never compare to how tight your pussy clamps onto him. How pretty you sound when you beg and whimper and cry. How delicious it is when your tongue caresses his name as if it’s the only thing besides his dick you’ll ever want in your perfect mouth. God, he thinks, you’re such a good lay.

He fucks you through it, and you ride wave after wave of pleasure until you can’t figure out if it’ll ever end. It all comes together perfectly, your bliss following one long nerve throughout your whole body. You cry out, shockwaves of need flooding you and making you forget when your orgasm even began. It felt like it had been going on forever, the friction between your legs never ending as somewhere underneath all of your dopamine and oxytocin, his voice reaches you. His pelvis slams into your ass, his hand tangling in your hair and yanking it so hard you think it’ll come out of the root as he coos. “Good girl,” he drawls, “that’s it, keep it coming.” He laughs, watching as your back arches to a degree that looks painful.

Shuffling sounds and his voice drops as he speaks to Dillion…you think, who is now trying to leave. “You stay,” he pants, “right fucking there. Watch as I fuck what you thought was yours- but act-ually is and will always be mine. Isn’t that right, baby?” He coos, laughing when you confirm with a breathless and whiny yes, sir.

The boy’s—his name you finally recall as David— eyebrows furrow. “Fuck you!” He yells, his fists bunched at his sides as he spits the word as if it’ll shoot Joker down from his place on top of you. As if it’ll slow his thrusts and make your eyes roll back into place.

Joker snorts, his hands moving to massage your ass as he leans back and fucks into you slower than before. “Thanks for the offer, toots. Butttttt,” he glances at the a qqq man, his eyes running up and down his body, “you’re not my type.”

You whimper and whine and with every slow thrust he breathes life back into you, winding you up like a toy and pushing you once again towards another orgasm. David turns to leave again, and this time Joker reaches behind him and grabs his gun- you hadn’t even known he had it on him. “Ah, ta, ta. I thought I told you to stay put. Either you listen or,” he points the gun at your head and you freeze up, horrified by the way your excitement doubles inside of you. A click sounds, the safety off and your pussy sopping wet at the risk of it all.

You would really need to look into therapy after this.

“Actually? You. Know. What!” He smacks his lips, laughing as he presses the gun harder against your skull. “Leave and I’ll just, uh, find you. Get my goons to kidnap you and then we can have our own little play date. Would you like that, David?“ He utters his name like he’s known it his whole life, his eyes darkening as you squeeze around him. “Would you like to have some, uh, real fun? I do have to say though, I highly dou-bt that I, uh, will be as sweet as I am with my little bunny here..I have a soft spot for her and this pretty pink pussy of hers. I might end up tossing you around a bit.” His eyes fall back onto you as your pussy spasms around him at his threatening words, wishing for a moment he was saying them to you and not him. He taps the barrel of the pistol against your head, and you whimper aloud. “She seems to like that idea too. Yeah, baby? Want me to, uh, fuck him u-p for wanting to get into your pretty purple panties?”

You don’t mean to moan as loudly as you do, and you groan as he pulls you by your hair- bringing your back flush against his chest. “Say cheese.” He laughs, forcing you to look into the hazel eyes of your past date. At this new angle, somehow he’s fucking even deeper into you. You squirm and cry as he breaks down your resolve with every single thrust of his hips. Your boobs bounce along with every snap of his pelvis, and he grabs your arms and twists them painfully back and behind you. He yanks you to meet every piston of his hips, his shoulders rolling back as he grits his teeth- his tongue flickering across his lips as he furrows his brows.

Your bodies slant together perfectly, two puzzle pieces snapping together as your body presses deliciously into his. He nibbles on your neck, letting go of your arms to fondle your breasts with calloused hands. He keeps his eyes on David, smiling against your heated skin as the sound of your pleasure fills the space. Your nails find purchase in the fabric of his pants, your ears ringing with the sound of your own slick and skin slapping against skin.

Your pleasure builds, slowly but surely you’re toeing the edge of a cliff- ready to be thrown off. It’s only when his teeth bite deep into your shoulder that your eyes roll back. Finally, you come undone once again. It’s unexpected this time and hits you like a truck. You scream out his name, your pussy quivering as you shudder. Your pleasure burns red hot, making your stomach tighten to a degree that is damn near painful. He slips a hand up your chest, squeezing your neck as he murmurs praise in your ear. He tells you that you’re taking it so well, that you feel so good around him and his words? They go right between your legs, adding fuel to your never ending fire of want for him. You twitch against him, your hair sticking against your sweaty forehead as you shudder. The wet sound of your cunt is filthy, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you can’t think straight.

He whispers in your ear, your body reacting to every little word that slips into your head as he paints your body red with his lips. He leans back, pulling you with him until he’s on his back and you’re riding him reverse cowgirl. Your thighs shudder- barely able to move as exhaustion begins to hit you- but you pull yourself up anyways until just his thick tip is inside, he clicks his tongue and grabs your hips- he pulls you down harshly and forces a loud cry from your throat. “Sorry, toots. I’m not, uh, feeling very pat-ient today.”

You ride him like a dog in heat, chasing a third orgasm to hear that lovely praise fall from his lips. From the TV, a loud scream sounds and you jump for a moment before continuing the bouncing of your hips. Your nails dig into his thighs for leverage as you drag yourself up and drive your hips down the thickness of his cock- rendering yourself thoughtless as you babble out nonsense he can barely make out. He laughs at you, rubbing circles into your waist with calloused finger tips.

Still, David stands there. Rage and fear filling him as he watches your hips roll around the clown’s dick. When he finally can’t take it anymore and runs out, not believing in- or perhaps not caring about the Joker’s threat- the man underneath you laughs.

You try not to think about what will happen to David.

Another scream, louder than before, breaks your focus and you feel his muscles tighten underneath you. J laughs, shuffling a bit to get comfortable. “I bet that, I, ah, could make you scream louder than that. Shall we find out?”

You don’t get to respond, his hips pounding up into you to meet every sloppy motion of your fatigued body. “Mm, that’s it, baby doll. Roll those pretty hips for me. Lemme’ see just how much you missed me.” And you do, you roll your hips and let him fuck up into you so harshly you see stars. You scream as he fucks the sense right out of you. You’re certain you’ll be able to count and name every planet in the solar system by the time he’s done twisting the wires in your brain over each other. “Keep going, sweetheart. Make yourself cum all over my cock again. Do it, for me.”

Pleasure lights the furnace inside of you again, and you shake your head. Earlier, the pleasure hadn’t gotten to a point of it being overstimulating and painful- now? It had. You plead and beg, your words leaving you so fast they hardly make any sense. “No, no, no, no. J, mmm, no! I can’t- fuck, not again.” His hands reach up, grasping your hair and pulling you backwards until you fall flat against him- somehow, he stays tucked inside you the whole time.

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Uh, yeah? You can and you will because I told you to.” He growls, fucking into you like it’s the only thing he can bring himself to care about. You cry out, whimpering as he slides into you perfectly- the fabric of his pants soft against your heated skin.

“Please, J! Please..”

He tsks, wrapping a hand around your neck and growling down at where you lay on his chest. “You want a change of pace that bad, hm? Fine then. I’ll give it to you sweet cheeks.” You whimper in confused relief- not quite understanding his words as he picks up the pace.

As your pleasure burns hot once more, your body stiffens with pleasure turned pain while your toes curl. It’s then he stops suddenly. All of your euphoria slipping through your fingers like sand. His muscles twitch with effort as he exercises the most self control he’s had to use in years.

That’s how you end up being edged for at least an hour, by the time he’s finally breathless and shuddering- trying as hard as possible not to cum just yet, you’re crying even harder than you were before. You’ve been babbling nonsense, your brain melting out of your ears as he presses into you. He peppers kisses against your neck, panting and groaning as he fucks you- the hand around your throat tightening with every sloppy thrust.

“Alright, dollface.” He pants, his head getting thrown back when your overworked pussy- throbbing around him- tightens at the sound of his voice alone. “Okay, pretty girl.” He rolls his eyes, finding it amusing how needy you are. Greed fills your chest, you need more. “It’s, uh, my turn to put on a show.”

He pushes you off of him, forcing you onto your hands and knees. There’s no resistance when he lines up and slides back into you with a wet squelching sound that makes your head spin in dirty desire. “It’s our,” he smacks his lips, laughing, “last performance of the eve-ning. Let’s go out with a bang.”

He grabs your hips in a vice, gritting his teeth and groaning as you whimper and whine with even the slightest tilt of his waist. He leans over you, whispering in your ear as your ass slaps against his pelvis. Every time he pulls out, your spongy walls suck him back in- needing it- needing him so fucking bad.

You whimper something, and he manages to make out the syllables that make up his name. Your used hole shudders, quivering while you squeeze your eyes shut as your screams reach new heights. He doesn’t care enough to tell you to be quieter. He wants everyone to hear you, hear the way you become a mindless slut just for him.

Finally, he builds you up again. Every swift movement adding one more stick to the fire- one more brick in the house of pleasure that was destined to fall and crush you underneath its ruins. Joker groans, his balls tightening as his thrusts lose all tempo and rhythm. He chases his high, one of his hands slipping between your lips and he starts to fuck your mouth with his fingers.

You hollow out your cheeks, whimpering and gagging as he makes you choke on his digits. “Bite me.” He hisses, and you freeze up at his request, thinking he maybe didn’t mean literally. When the feeling of cold steel meets your neck, fear washes over you. “Bite me, you fucking bitch.” He growls, and your teeth close harshly around his fingers.

His eyes roll back, his mouth falling open in a breathless wheeze as his strokes only seem to speed up. The knife nicks you, blood trickling down your neck and painting your body with red. “Harder, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be earning the next orgasm I fuck outta you.”

You do as he says, and the taste of iron fills your mouth as you break through his skin. The taste is addicting, and you feel like a pittbull that has had its first taste of blood. Once you have it, nothing will ever be enough until you have it again. Maybe it’s the endorphins flooding your system, or maybe you’re more like him than you thought- but you moan at the taste of his life draining from his hand. His blood dancing across your tongue.

You sink your teeth in deeper and his hips stutter, his shoulders rolling back as his mind goes blank. “Ohh fu-ck, baby.” He grits out, his jaw and neck flexing as he goes rigid. “Yeah- I’ve decided…‘m jus’ gonna keep ya. Gonna wrap you up in a bow and, uh, fuuuck- gonna keep you. You’re too good to let go. Gonna stick you in a room and throw away the key so, ah, nobody else can have this pussy. Yeah? You like that idea, sweetness? You like it? You like me?” He growls, and you hum in agreement around his fingers- drool dribbling down your chin as he shivers and fucks you so hard you hear the low scratching of the couch moving with each snap of his hips against you.

His words are filthy and you feel your whole body shaking as he rolls his hips, you’re so close you can hardly make a sentence without moaning and whining like some horny slut. “Oh baby doll…” He snarls, teeth bared as he shakes. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum deep inside of this pussy of yours. I’m gonna knock you up good- make you stuck with me.”

And you snap at his words, your body alight with motion as you tremor violently. Your walls clench around his length and he too comes undone. He pulls you closer, emptying inside of you and shaking as his muscles constrict. He pants behind you, chest heaving as his pleasure ripples through his body. He lets out a shuddering breath, waiting to come down from his high.

A knock sounds at the door. “Hello, this is the GCPD, your neighbors heard some screaming and were concerned for your safety. Is everything alright?”

Joker groans, and you sigh in defeat- exhausted and absolutely tuckered out. Now, you have to deal not only with your psycho clown- but with a bunch of cops. This was going to go every way but swimmingly.

hiii! please excuse any misspellings i looked this over like 100 times lol!!! i really hope you enjoyed :3

#ledger joker smut #heath ledger joker #dc joker #joker x reader #joker smut #dc comics #heath ledger #joker x y/n #joker x you #smut #dc smut #lemon #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker #fanfic #batman #writing

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shintaru · 3 months

Text

NSFW windbreaker headcanons

Pt. 2

m.list ♡ taglist Chris D’ Char 🍔 ~

loves eating you out for his own pleasure

kinks - size, food play, dirty talk, breeding, edging, mirror sex, begging, cream pie, biting, hickeys, kissing, & teasing

Loves making you cry but he also gets concerned when you cry more than usual

Favorite positions Cowgirl, Missionary, Seashell, The butter fly, & The eagle

Size & stamina - Since he is 7’2 his length 9 inches + girth 3 inches & he has a crazy amount of stamina

Smut ⤵️ Click to read here

I had to write them separately and tag them because I think they would exceed the word count.

Wooin Yoo 🍭 ~

Like Chris also loves eating you out for his own pleasure

Kinks - degration, dirty talk, masochism, humiliation, spit, begging , exhibition, rough, recording, & teasing

Loves orgasm denial & making you beg

Favorite positions Doggy, Cowgirl, Reverse cowgirl, Grass hopper, & The eagle Size & stamina - Length 6.10 inch + girth 2.40 inches & he has a lot of stamina

Smut ⤵️ Click to read here

I had to write it separately and tag it because I think it would exceed the word count.

Joker 🃏 🍎 ~

Loves it when you moan his name and leave scratches in his back

Kinks - size, hair pulling , cock warming, overstimulation, face sitting, deep throating, slight choking, spanking, creampie, & kissing

Rough before and after a fight due to adrenaline but gentle any other time

Favorite positions Missionary, Face-Off aka the Amazon, Sea shell, Upstanding citizen, & Grass hopper

Size & stamina - Length 8.17 inches + girth 3 inches & Stamina he fights so he definitely has a lot of stamina

Smut ⤵️ Click to read here

Dom Kang 👟🐕‍🦺~

Body worshiper

Kinks - praise, breeding kink, squirting, clingy sex, mirror, lingerie, I love you’s during sex, creampie, hickeys, kissing, Wet and Messy

He is gentle in bed unless he gets too excited then he can be rough but if you cry or say your safe word he will stop and comfort you

Favorite positions - Cow girl, Face-Off aka the Amazon, Missionary, Sea shell, & Upstanding citizen

Size & stamina - length 7.2 inches + girth 2.30 inches, he has a lot of stamina 💀

Smut ⤵️ Click to read here

authors note: this is my first time writing smut, I hope it wasn’t horrible. I’ll reblog this once I finish Wooin and Jokers comment below if you want me to tag you in the reblog.

memes:

Fic dedicated to my fellow Chris, Wooin, Joker & Dom lovers 🖤 @rossesnd @cozyunderworld @samuelseowife @inosukehana

#windbreaker webtoon #dom kang x reader #joker windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker #chris d'char #chris d’char x reader #wooin windbreaker #wooin x reader #dom kang #Spotify

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hobicakess · 9 months

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #dee recs.#jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #dee reblogs.#hoseok x reader #rapline x reader #hyunglinexreader #bts fanfic #mafia bts #gangster bts #yandere yoongi #yandere bts

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kazutora-kurokawa · 6 months

Note

Joker! Hanma x Harley! Reader has a messy situation on the her hands where kisaki is obsessed w her and what joker! Hanma would do about it

Joker!Hanma x Harley!Reader: Stalker Problem

♡ SFW kinda, fem reader, Kisaki is obsessed with reader, stalking, threats, amputation ♡

note: yet another brilliant idea, your brain is braining fr Kat 😮‍💨 also imma do the other request you sent in tomorrow 🙌

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🃏 Joker!Hanma who doesn't play games when it comes to his Harley, regardless of who's messing with her

🃏 Joker!Hanma who damn near goes crazier than he already is when he finds out Kisaki has been stalking you

🃏 Joker!Hanma who confronts Kisaki and laughs in his face when he denies stalking you

🃏 Joker!Hanma who starts stalking Kisaki, following him around and collecting evidence of his obsession with you

🃏 Joker!Hanma who slams that folder full of evidence on Kisaki's desk, making it clear that he can't lie his way out anymore

🃏 Joker!Hanma who gets up in Kisaki's face, threatening to break his neck right then and there if he doesn't leave you the fuck alone

🃏 Joker!Hanma who cuts off the fingers of Kisaki's bodyguards and leaves them on his doorstep

🃏 Joker!Hanma who always makes one thing clear: Harley is not to be fucked with, play stupid games and lose your life.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma x reader #hanma headcanons

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triphantoms · 1 month

Note

Instead of cosplaying death note characters, I honestly would've loved to see you guys cosplay as winx or mlp characters while battling shadows

Winx? I don't know what that is, but I think Goro would try to shoot me again if I made him cosplay a My Little Pony character. I assume that's what mlp stands for.

- Joker 🃏

#ren amamiya #akira kurusu #joker persona 5 #p5r #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #ask me anything #asks #ask blog

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meetmyothersouls · 2 years

Note

the dr one pleaseeeeee with harley quinn and the joker 🃏 👩‍⚕️

You got it ❤️

Red (The Dr. Is In)

Warnings: psych ward, crazy/insane Timothee (Joker x Harley Quinn vibes), mentions of voices, death and dark themes

You pop a pill, taking note that it’s 2am.

These pills keep you sane. They keep the voices away, and you couldn’t do your job without them. How could you help fix people if the voices in your head were telling you to stab them with screwdrivers or pop their eyeballs out with the plastic spoons from the cafeteria?

A knock at the door snaps you out a daze you’ve be in and out of all evening. It’s you’re week to work the late shift, and to say it’s not your favorite would be a massive understatement. You’re tired and grumpy, and hospitals at night are fucking creepy. St. Matthews hasn’t always required late shifts from the psychiatrists, but there’s a new patient that’s making the others a bit...restless.

You take a big gulp of coffee, wiping it from your chin as the now cold liquid dribbled from the cup. “Yes?” You call from your chair, trying your best not to sound startled.

A nurse pops her head in. Sue Ann. She’s used to the night shift, you can tell by the exorbitant amount of energy she has at 2:30am. Her light blue scrubs that are two sizes too small makes you roll your eyes. She chews her gum loudly and glances down at her clip board.

“You’ve got a patient in room 204.”

“204?” Your fingers clack rapidly on the keys of your computer as you pull up the patient’s file. The computer filters through a couple hundred patients until patient 204′s file is the only one to choose from. You click on the little folder and the patient’s picture as well as a lengthy report about his medical and mental history takes over the screen. You hold your breath as you look at his photo. He is...disarmingly handsome and it’s almost sinful. He doesn’t look crazy, or at least he doesn’t in the photo. You note his smile and a small psychotic glint in his eye. Like he was capable of snapping at any minute while the photo was being taken. “He’s not supposed to be seen until tomorrow morning. Is this urgent?”

“You, uh, you should probably see for yourself.” Nurse Sue scurries away and you take a few seconds to skim the file, taking note of his name. It’s always better to address them by their name than calling them “a patient” or nothing at all. There’s something about being in a psych ward that is dehumanizing enough, no need to make it worse by treating them as an object.

Timothee Chalamet.

You arrive to the room and before entering you hear him talking. There’s nothing coherent about anything he’s saying and you only catch a few fragments of his sentences.

“Think I’m crazy.”

“Know about crazy.”

“Kill. Stab.”

Your breath hitches and you step back. Your back touches the wall which elicits another pathetic gasp from you. He’s cackling both loudly and manically. You look to your left, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror hung on the wall. You never understood why it was hung there. Who’s looking at their reflection here in a hallway lined with rooms containing the criminally and clinically insane? No matter the reason, it hangs there, mocking you. You push your glasses up your nose, hoping it’ll hide the worry evident on your brow.

A tap on the glass slams your attention back to room 204 and you almost bite your tongue off to hold back the scream forming in the back of your throat. The small rectangular window on the door, reveals him and he’s tapping the glass with his forehead. He’s smiling, and it’s menacing enough to make you regret every psychiatric decision you’ve ever made.

Timothee Chalamet’s smile fades instantly, the quick change in emotion alarming. “Are you coming in or are you going to stand there looking terrified all night?” He spins and it’s almost comical how his thin body moves in the straight jacket he’s restrained in.

You swallow hard as shaking hands pull the ring of keys off of your belt loop. When the door opens your shocked at how cold it is inside. You tuck your clip board under your arm and pull your cardigan tighter around your body. Chalamet stands in the far corner of the white room devoid of any decor or objects of any kind. Even while restrained, patients are considered dangerous.

And this one looks lethal.

He’s smiling again as he stands in one corner and you stand in another across from him. He looks the same as his picture, aged only slightly. Curly dark hair that is a stark contrast of the white he wears and the white that paints this room.

There’s so much white.

He takes a step forward and you instinctively step back, he smiles even wider. This is wrong. You’re supposed to mask any apprehension and here you are feeding your fear to him on a silver platter.

“Relax. I’m just going to sit.”

He takes small careful steps toward a soft white chair and jerks his head to the one in front of him. You swallow hard. He’s staring at you, taking in every inch of your appearance. You can’t say exactly what he’s thinking, but the hungry look in his eyes gives you a good idea.

“Mr.-” You glance down at your clipboard as you sit, pretending to not remember his name. “Chalamet.”

“Oh, please.” He gasps, and if he’s arms and hands weren’t wrapped around his body, he’d probably be waving one at you. “Mr. Chalamet is my father. Call me Timothee. Tim. Timmy. Whatever floats that little boat of yours.” His eyes travel up and down your body as he finishes his sentence.

“Timothee. I’m Dr. Y/N. How are we doing tonight?”

He licks his lips before biting down to pull a stray piece of skin off. “Not so great, Doc.”

“Why’s that? Would you like to talk about it?”

He pulls a leg up and drapes it over the arm of the chair, the action swift and effortless. A quick shake of his head thrusts the curls out of his face.

“Well,” he says, as if he’s choosing from a slew of things to talk about. He gasps as he lands on one. “I’m hearing the voices.”

You take a minute to jot voices down on your paper. He watches you, unamused. “What are they saying to you, Timothee? The voices.”

“Your pretty little ears don’t deserve to be tainted with what they have to say,” he answers quickly.

You set your pen down and let out a small chuckle. “Humor me. I’ve heard a lot in my day.” Literally.

One of Timothee’s eyebrows shoot up and he pulls another piece of skin off of his lips with his teeth. He draws blood this time, but instead of licking it up, it drips down his chin and onto the white straps of his straight jacket. He squirms uncomfortably in it and you feel for him, having been in one yourself many many years ago.

“Have you been taking your medication, Timothee?” You ask.

“Of course,” his tone offering mock offense.

You flip a page on your clip board and tap on it with your pen.

“I see, I can give you a higher dosage of-”

“What do your voices tell you, y/n?” He interrupts you, his question is serious. He looks at you from under his brow. “What about those doctors that didn’t listen to you when you told them you weren’t crazy?”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. so he keeps talking.

“They just shoved a pill down your throat and gave you a pat on the head, isn’t that right?”

You’re staring at him and his words are making sense. It’s scaring you. You’re supposed to be the one asking the questions, but you let him continue.

“These doctors,” he says the word in disgust. “They don’t let you explore your true self. There’s a reason we were chosen. But I don’t need to tell you that. You already know. Oh don’t look at me like that.”

He stands up and walks over to the couch you’re seated on. It comfortably fits two people but he’s sitting so close, your thighs touch.

“Don’t look at me like I’m insane. That hurts my feelings,” he pouts before dropping it and instantly changing to a face whose emotion you can’t quite place. “I think you know better than anyone that crazy people are the most interesting people the world has to offer. But they shove pills down our throats and turn us into walking science experiments. ‘Oh this pill. This one works’ ‘This pill makes him sleepy’ ‘this one makes him a little bit stabby’,” He mocks in a high pitched nasally tone each one more aggressive than the last. “How are they able to tell us what’s right and what isn’t just because they don’t hear the same things we do?”

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of the trance like state you feel yourself slipping into. “N-no, it’s not real. They’re not real--the voices. They’re something your mind conjures up due to trauma, Timothee. Your mind creates them as a form of comfort.”

He’s still sitting close and he spreads his legs wider, shifting in his seat. He leans his head back against the chair. “They’ve just blinded you is all.”

“I’m not blind, Timothee.”

“Oh, I think you are. You’ve allowed yourself to be. You’ve let yourself forget the things that have happened to you. The things that broke you. When you should be letting it fuel you.”

“I have mental clarity. I have my sanity, that I’ve worked hard to maintain. I’m sitting here with you having a conversation that-”

“Have you noticed the two dead guys in the corner over there?”

Your eyes snap to each corner of the room, but there’s nothing. No bodies, no blood. He’s lying.

“There’s no one there. Do you see dead people in the room, Timothee?”

“Look again.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

He offers you an insidious grin and your eyes betray you. Quickly, they snap over to the corner. And they’re there. Piled on top of one another. Dead and bleeding profusely. One has his eyes gouged out and the other’s stomach is ripped open, his organs spilling out onto the tiled floor.

You pull yourself into standing position, your clipboard clattering to the floor as you gasp. Timothee is cackling loudly and you feel yourself slipping.

You smack him and he’s stunned into silence.

He looks positively benevolent as he glares at you and when that grin creeps back up onto his face, like predator whose successfully lured a victim into their trap, you realize it’s too late.

“Killed them myself,” he says, adjusting his jaw from your slap like it was nothing. “In record time too. I know you think about killing these fuckers, y/n.” He gets close again, shuffling his body against the sofa, until his breath is caressing your face. “Think of what we could do together.” Timothee leans in and inhales deeply against your neck. “Such a pretty smell.”

You should smack him again, or better yet leave the crazy fucker and go home. But you can’t.

There’s something about this man that feels like home.

And you’ve already fallen too far.

“What do those voices tell you, y/n?” His lips brush against yours and you shudder at the touch.

“Th-they tell me to stab them with screwdrivers.”

“Mmmm,” Timothee breathes out, as if your sentence was the most orgasmic one he’d ever heard spoken. “Help me out of this straight jacket, princess.”

He stands and turns his back to you. The layers of velcro straps, belts and zippers exposed to you. It’s not too late to book it, but your hands reach for the first set of straps instead of the door. And before you have a chance to change your mind he’s free.

He spins, showing off his newly freed body to you. He pulls you’re body into his and smashes his lips against yours, the intensity of it almost too much to handle, but you melt into it. Kissing him back with just as much ferocity.

He pulls away with a noisy smack of his last kiss. Your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth.

“Come on Princess, let’s paint this bitch red.”

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #smut #dark!timothee #Halloween #Halloween special

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kingoftieland · 6 months

Text

youtube

Last year I was able to acquire a couple of pristine $100 notes that were used in the production of Christopher Nolan’s 2008 masterpiece, The Dark Knight. But now I’ve added a handful more that were actually burned by the Clown Prince of Crime himself! 🃏

These bills were used on-screen and were a part of the Joker’s massive mountain of mob money. Now they’re framed and on display in my classroom for all my students to see! 💵

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 year

Text

The 3 emoji prompts Masterpost

Rules: send me 3 emojis and I will write you a ficlet based off them.

Current status: requests closed

Estimated date for round 3: June 16th

Round One - April 16th

🪷🐇🌕 - lotus, bunny, moon -> Wei Wuxian tells A-Yuan a story from the Lotus Pier

🍓🐞💦 - strawberry, ladybug, water droplets -> the juniors go to a strawberry orchard after a night hunt

🎶🦷🐉 - music notes, tooth/teeth, dragon -> Wei Wuxian has questions from DragonJi

💀😈💋 - skull, smile demon, kiss -> Wei Wuxian laments about not having been a stereotypical villain. Lan Wangji is very into it.

🌠💞🌶️ - shooting star, hearts, red pepper/chili -> WangXian stargaze

🗡️ 🍵 🌨️ - sword, tea, snowstorm -> Wei Wuxian worries about his husband travelling in the cold

🍷🔥👀 - wine, fire, eyes/staring -> Wei Wuxian goes to the markets and brings Lan Wangji gifts

🃏🪭🦂 - joker, fan, scorpion -> Nie Huaisang asks Jin Guangyao to play a childhood game he and Nie Mingjue invented

🌈🍹🎆 - rainbow, cocktail, fireworks -> the rain ruins WangXian's beach day... or not

😄😁😣 - smiling, grinning, scrunched up -> Jingyi goes on a rollercoaster for a bet and wins

🌂⛈️🤝 - umbrella, rainstorm, shaking hands -> WangXian try to share an umbrella. It goes better than expected.

🥰🔁🔙 - in love, repeat, back -> WangXian talk about time loops

🎻🎸💋 - violin, electric guitar, kiss -> WangXian musician AU

❤💀👼 - heart, skull, angel -> WangXian play with a ghost girl

🐴🏔️🪕 - horse, mountain, banjo -> Little Apple doesn't like banjos.

♻️💀🌱 - recycle, skull, plant -> A-Yuan's plant dies and Wei Ying uses it as a teaching moment

🎨💔🐇 - paint palette, broken heart, bunnies -> Wei Ying goes painting in nature

💇🍨☄️ - haircut, ice cream, meteor -> WangXian spend the end of the world together

👨‍👩‍👧🍛🌅 - family, soup, sunset -> Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan and Jin Ling spend an evening together

🪞⛸️🔦 - mirror, ice skate, flashlight -> WangXian ice skating AU

🧟🛁🍜 - zombie, bath, meal -> Wen Ning receives a spa day for his birthday

:3c ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) -> the juniors talk about summoning demons

🦇 🐐 🍭 - bat, goat, lollipop! -> the juniors go to a Halloween party

🧋🍂🔑 - boba tea, leaves, key -> WangXian meet-cute as retold by Wei Ying to his bestie Wen Qing

🔥🩺💐 - fire, stethoscope, flowers -> Lan Wangji buys his son and his husband gifts. He never delivers them.

𐂂⚡🪢 - stag, lightning bolt, thread -> Ouyang Zizhen tells his friends an old legend from his sect

Total: 26 ficlets!

Round Two: May 4th

🌸🫶🏼🧑🏻‍🍼 (cherry blossom, hands forming a heart, person feeding a baby) -> WangXian adopt a little girl

🙏 📓🖖(praying hands, notebook, Vulcan salute) -> Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen try to cheat on senior Wei's talisman theory exam

🥀🔆💋 (wilting flower, sun, kiss) -> A-Yuan gifts Lan Wangji flowers

⛈️🧎🌄 (thunder storm, kneeling person, sunrise over mountains) -> Lan Wangji tells Madam Lan he's getting married

❄️🌡️🍲 (snowflake, thermometer, soup) -> Wei Ying takes care of his sick husband

⛸️🧋🌅 (ice skate, boba tea, sunset at the beach) -> WangXian take a romantic walk down the beach

☠️🏹⛓️ (skull, bow and arrow, chains) -> Wen Ning visits the old training grounds in Qishan

👻💥🍀 (ghost, explosion, lucky clover) -> lucky clovers grow in the Burial Mounds after the First Siege

💢👊👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 (Angry symbol, an oncoming fist, and two men kissing with a heart) -> someone fucks around and Lan Wangji helps him find out

👻💔♾️ (ghost, broken heart, ‘infinity/eternity/forever’) -> Wei Wuxian reaches immortality but not the way he wanted

🫂💘👁 (hug, a arrow heart and an eye) -> Lan Wangji watches Wei Wuxian work

🏳️‍⚧️♨️🌌 (trans flag, heat/steam, galaxy/night sky) -> Wei Wuxian understands something about Mo Xuanyu's identity

🏮🏵️⚔️ (lantern, flower, swords) -> WangXian walk into a bar...

🍷🏩🌆 (wine, love hotel, evening) -> WangXian spend a romantic, horny night in a love hotel

☠️💄⚔️ (skull, lipstick, crossed swords) -> Wei Wuxian buys makeup for a disguise

🐇🎶😴 (bunny, music notes, sleeping emoji) -> Wei Wuxian asks his husband to recount memories of little A-Yuan that he missed

❤️🛣️🐈 (heart, road, cat) -> Wei Wuxian brings home a stray kitten

🚒 🐳 🐇 (firetruck, whale, bunny) -> a day at the juniors' kindergarten

🍶🌶️👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 (wine, chili, two men kissing) -> Wei Wuxian misses his husband so much

🌾🪺🏯 (wheat, bird's nest, Chinese palace) -> Emperor Lan Wangji and his son fall in love at first sight

🤓🫦🥰 (emoji wearing glasses, lip bite, emoji surrounded by hearts) -> Lan Wangji gets glasses and Wei Ying reacts about it

Total: 21 ficlets

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #writing attempts

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red-black-aesthetic-bout · 1 year

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Round 1: Match 32

Death the Wolf/The Wolf/Lobo/Death etc. (Puss in Boots: the Last Wish) vs. Joker (Persona 5)

Death the Wolf/The Wolf/Lobo/Death etc.

- Hot scary furry. Character with so much potential. Well animated as shit. Best villain I've seen in years. Love himb. Is literally Death itself.

Joker

- my silly guyy my onglydoopble - Leader of the phantom thieves!! Him and his friends go into the metaverse to “change people’s hearts” and get revenge against their abusers...

mod notes: I'm so glad someone submitted death the wolf...characters who rule severely

#death the wolf #puss in boots #puss in boots: the last wish #joker #persona 5 #the last wish

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thesandsofelsweyr · 2 years

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REMEMBER JASON TODD?

《 READ ON AO3 》

Joker reminisces to Batman about one of the happiest years of his life: the year he spent breaking Jason Todd.

《RATING》 Mature 《WORDS》 1,865

《CHARACTERS》 Joker, Jason Todd/Robin (Arkhamverse)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Jason Todd Needs a Hug

《WARNINGS》 Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Torture, Mindfuck

《NOTES》

I somehow got possessed by a death-worshipping garbage clown and wrote this Jason Todd torture-fest 🃏

If you enjoy the read, please consider reblogging 💚

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are much appreciated!)

Remember Jason Todd? Ugh, what a whiner. Always complaining… We’re both better off without that loser.

I gotta confess though, Bats. Screwing around with his little-kid mind, digging around in his grey matter, stirring it up until Toddy made me look almost sane—that was the happiest I’d been in a long, long time. I’d thank the boy for that, if his brains weren’t splattered all over the basement of Arkham, huhuhu.

Ahh, the memories. I tortured that poor kid for nearly a year. Shattered his ankle, knocked out a few teeth, yanked out a few more, broke a few ribs—well, probably all of his ribs, after it was all said and done. Let’s face it, that pretty red armor of his could only withstand so many beatings before it started wearing down and losing its Bat-tested, Bat-approved effectiveness. Near the end the boy was practically begging me to take it off of him! But, hmm, now that I think of it, that was probably more about his shame over being such a miserable embarrassment to his Batdad and less about its ineffectiveness when I was bashing his skull in with my trusty, rusty crowbar.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! I even invited a few of my fellow inmates down to take some shots at the little punk who’d terrorized them at Batman’s side. Man oh man, did those guys hate your jilted sidekick or what? I found myself a teensy-bit envious of all the fun they were having with the kid, especially after seeing Bane slam Toddy’s body into that concrete foundation so hard that I’m pretty sure he left a Robin-shaped dent.

Oh Batsy, you should’ve seen our boy’s face! I’m still kicking myself for not including a photo with your consolation prize. The video I sent you just didn’t do him justice. Your enemies collaborated on a masterpiece, they really did. Vibrant reds and pinks, rich purples, blacks, and blues; so battered and broken, his features all askew—Picasso himself would be in awe of their bloody canvas. They must’ve broken his beak at least a dozen times. By the time they were through with him, you wouldn’t even have recognized the little guy.

But c’mon, be honest. We’ve been buds for so long, you and I. You can trust me with anything—Clown’s honor. Tell me, did you even try to find the kid? I never bought the “World’s Greatest Detective” charade, but you gotta admit Batsy, I made it pretty easy for you. I stashed your Boy Blunder in the most obvious place I could think of. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for wanting to delete ol’ Jason from your history. He was a real piece of work, fighting me tooth and nail every chance he got, spitting on my hospitality and me. More of a “rabid dog” than a Robin, if I do say so myself. And that mouth of his, ugh! His mother would thank me for the beatings I gave him if she heard half the things he said to me. A real blight on the house of Bat, that one. This new Robin of yours seems more in line with your legacy. Maybe I’ll get my hands on him someday, tenderize him like I did Toddy, huhu.

Well, whatever your reasons, you gave me ample time to get my creative juices flowing. I’d been itching to try out some new ideas that had been floating around my noggin. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Rack. Sadly, I wasn’t able to procure that particular device for our little bird’s cage, but I’ve always been good at improvising. I read somewhere about this rather nasty technique they used during that delightful period known as the Inquisition. Ahh, the good ole days… when torturing people was a paid profession.

With the help of my pal Boles, we tied the boy’s arms behind his back then strung him up by the wrists. Some Arkham orderlies were kind enough to provide me with some weights, which I tied to his ankles. Must’ve been painful because that was the loudest I’d heard the boy squeal since he dropped in my lap! The pitiful thing was wriggling and writhing like a worm on a hook. I left him dangling like that for a few hours since he seemed to enjoy it so much. Tehehe.

That little device of mine ripped his arms clean out of their sockets, yet the bird still refused to break. He was as defiant as ever, cursing at me between sobs. Talk about loyalty. He was ready to die for you. How do you inspire that kind of devotion from these brats? It’s the car, right? Gotta be that fancy car of yours. Hmm, I should get me a Jokermobile of my own someday. Anyway, Junior wasn’t the sharpest Bat-tool in the Bat-shed. Six months of suffering and he was still convinced you were coming to rescue him. I tried to tell him that you’d moved on with your life, found yourself a new partner who wasn’t such a loser, but he refused to believe me. We’d reached an impasse.

But then—here’s the best part of the story, ooo it gives me chills just thinking about it—then you gave me a gift. You actually did replace the kid with a new one. BWAHAHAHAHA, now that’s my brand of cruelty, Bats—I always knew you had it in ya! After everything I’d done to that poor boy, all it took was a photograph to break your bird into a million little pieces. Yes Batsy, a photo of you and his replacement gallivanting around Gotham, saving the city from crazy men like me.

Oh how he bawled after I showed him that photo! And that was even before I beat him senseless with his favorite crowbar. I pressed that photo into his palm before I left him bleeding on the floor of his cage, and, God love 'em, the dumb kid was still begging for his Bat-daddy to come save him from the evil Clown. “Please forgive me, Batman. I tried to be the partner you wanted, I swear I did. I’m so sorry I disobeyed you. Please don’t let him punish me again. I’ll be a good boy for you, I just wanna come home. Wah-wah-wah, boo-hoo-hoo.” If only I had a heart, it would’ve been broken by his pathetic pleas. But I don’t, so I kept beating him for good measure.

Wee Todders was much more pliable after it finally sank into that thick skull of his that you’d abandoned him. I gotta be honest with you, Bats, you made it so easy for me to make him hate you after that, it almost felt like cheating. Still a rootin’ tootin’ good time though. For me at least. Can’t speak for our dearly departed boy toy.

No wonder you dumped his half of the dynamic duo on my doorstep. Talk about rough edges! Took some blood, sweat, and tears (his, not mine) but I eventually sanded him down and hollowed him out; sculpted him into a partner in crime worthy of the Clown Prince of Crime. Had to teach him some manners first, though. Clearly Emily Post wasn’t included in your crime fighting curriculum. Did no one bother to teach the child any words beyond the four-letter variety? Well, I trained him to address me properly: “yes sir”, “no sir”, “please don’t hurt me sir”—that sort of thing. I find that negative reinforcement works best when it comes to naughty little boys like him: electrocution, sensory deprivation, barbed wire bondage, blunt force trauma, starvation, force-feeding, puncture wounds, power tools, waterboarding, acid trips, acid burns, regular burns, stabbings, stranglings, even good ole fashioned paddlings. By the time I was done with the brat I had him thanking me for yanking out his fingernails with red-hot pincers.

Jason was some of my finest work to date, if I do say so myself. I transformed your rejected Robin into a perfect pet. The boy was mine, body and soul, but I wanted to make sure he never forgot who he belonged to, who made him who he truly was, made him realize that potential you tried to snuff out. Let me tell you, he was none too happy about being branded like a bull. You’d think the kid’d be more grateful after all the time I spent hunting down a J-shaped branding iron just for him. He didn’t carry on about it for long though. By that point just the sight of my toybox had him cowering in a corner, shivering and whimpering like a kicked puppy with his tail between his legs.

Speaking of puppies… I even had a collar made for my darling boy, in case my signature on his sweet cheek wasn’t enough. A red leather collar to match that red leather getup. What an adorable sight that was! Him, bruised and scarred from head to toe, down on all fours, staring up at me with those blown out baby blues, full of tears and fear, and dare I say, even affection. That poor kid’s psyche was so twisted by the end that he was clinging to me, clutching at my suit, begging me not to abandon him like you did. Hil-ari-ous! Bless his widdle heart, he was such a good boy by then. I rarely had to punish him but it was just so dang fun I couldn’t resist. I did so well with the little laddy, it got me thinking maybe Harley and I should have a few tykes of our own for me to abuse. But nah, you seem to have so many to spare, I’ll just stick to your brood. Lord knows I don’t want to get saddled with child support—oh the horror!

We had some good times, y’know? Little Toddy-woddy was like a son to me, he really was. He hated you so much it made me one proud papa. It’s a shame I had to put him out to pasture with a bullet through his brain, but he was becoming such a bore. He just didn’t scream as much as he used to—that collapsed lung of his probably had something to do with that. And he was so obedient, so submissive, so utterly desperate to please me… (yawns) If I wanted a vegetable, I would’ve made him a vegetable. This is a nut house after all. Got all the tools I need for a lobotomy right here at home. No, I wanted that ball of wildfire, that feral foul-mouthed urchin I fell in love with! I guess since I’m being honest here, I have only myself to blame. I suppose it’s a lesson to learn for my future bird boy endeavors—you can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs (and legs) after all.

Welp, no use crying over spilled brain matter! If it’s any consolation to you, my pointy-eared pal, I’ll never forget the kid you gave me and that magical year we spent together. No really, I have a jar full of teeth and fingernails to remember him by! hehehehehehehehe

#sands writes #jason todd #joker #robin #arkham asylum #arkham knight #arkhamverse #dcu #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd whump #whump #collars #dead dove: do not eat

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