Alright, I extremely enjoyed the silly villain reader posts, and my mind just thought about this, how would the heroes and villains react if Reader just slept on their lap?
I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I originally wrote Silly Villain! Reader as sort of a refresher, a palette cleanse. Something I could return to and daydream about to get my mind off more darker requests. So I hope you enjoy this! I’ve included a few more characters because why not?
Aquaman -[ROMANTIC]
He would freeze as you slumped into his arms, before rearranging you into a more comfortable position whilst ignoring all the jealous stares he’s getting from his coworkers. He would bundle you up and just carry you around in like a baby sling. You are encompassed by blanket and beefy muscle, where he goes you must follow. He even takes you with him on missions, but by then he’s rearranged the blanket sling to be on his back. Arthur Curry is like softly obsessed with you, not yandere, but like obsessed in the way that he just wants to be close to you and will ignore anything and everything if you so much as stir. Speaking of you stirring, this man doesn’t really care if someone wakes you up. His focus is on you, calming you with soft whispered words and gentle touches to the face, brushing away loose hair. Like I said, the man’s enamoured.
Bane -[ROMANTIC]
Would not move. He could easily bring you with him wherever he goes but to him, your comfort is his priority. And to be fair, you’ve used him like a jungle gym so this isn’t really that crazy for his goons. Bane would take all meetings and updates from right where he had sat before you climbed into his lap. Unlike a lot of the others on this list, you didn’t accidentally fall asleep on him. You did it on purpose. No one can blame you, he gives the best cuddles and is just the perfect balance between warm and firm that just knocks you the fuck out. You need sleep? Bane’s arms are already open, waiting for you. Though if anyone woke you up or was being too loud, he would kill them with one hand. Like snap their neck whilst cuddling you close to him, no one disturbs his sunshine. His goons have learnt to whisper their reports and tiptoe down corridors.
Batman -[PLATONIC]
This might upset some people, but I think Batman just has a platonic neutrality with you, not romantic. He gets a headache when he’s working with or against you because he knows he’s got to baby-proof the Batmobile and holding cell you’ll eventually go to. However, you also lower his walls which is super rare for Bruce. He is your number 1 snuggle buddy, against his will. For some reason, your yawns (perfected with the cartoonish snot bubble that pops and wakes you up) are like chloroform to him. As soon as he hears it, it takes like two seconds before he’s gone to sleepy land. This has happened so much that whenever he is on a mission concerning you, he has to have a chaperone so he doesn’t sleep. If the two of you happened to fall asleep next to each other, Bruce is most likely laying his head on yours with his arm around your shoulders. His kids try and bribe you to record your yawns so they can get him to have a regular sleep schedule.
Catwoman -[ROMANTIC]
She is the one grabbing you and putting you in her lap. Most likely you were walking past her and she just grabbed your waist before pulling you into her body. No matter how much you squirm you can’t evade her hold. She all but purrs as you give in and bask in her attention. She pinches and pokes you occasionally, just to hear your reactions. When you eventually get bored enough to sleep, she just watches you breathe. Like Arthur, she’s lowkey obsessed. Again, not yandere. But more kind of her checking you’re alive. Though her counting your breathes is a bit overkill. She doesn’t stop you from being woken up because it’s not like she’s going to let you go any time soon. Plus it gives her a chance to tease you over drooling or sleep talking. Would absolutely hold it above your head if you mumble her name whilst asleep.
Constantine -[ROMANTIC/PLATONIC]
I can kind of see this being either way, just because you would be the type of little freak that I can see Constantine being attracted to only to have his inner monologue go ‘WHY?!’. He’s just kind of confused but decides to just go along with it, he’s seen worse. He’s another member of the Chronic Insomniac Club. It’s always just another case or just another spell, wearing himself thin until he just collapses on his sofa and sleeps for like 4 days straight. Having a snuggle buddy that has physically attached themself to his body helps. It weighs him down, he can’t move off the sofa unless he wants to wake up the little clown (not Joker-adjacent) he’s basically taken in. I feel as though you wouldn’t necessarily fall asleep in his lap, but probably crashed at his place. After a long day of being a nuisance you crash at Constantine’s home, because in your words ‘it smells nice’, and fall asleep on his sofa. And not long after you turn up, an equally exhausted if not more so sorcerer gets home and collapses on top of you, asleep before he even landed. You probably don’t care, using his trench coat as a blanket and in the morning he’s probably more confused than annoyed. Anyone attempting to wake you up would be met with a very grouchy British man ready to send them to Hell for disturbing his sleep. Oh, and you’re here too.
Deathstroke -[PLATONIC]
This man hates you. Loathes you, in a mostly comical way. Any time he works with you, he is audibly complaining and groaning because he thinks you don’t take things seriously enough. You know he hates you, so you do everything in your power to annoy the shit out of him. I imagine you hug him, arms like rubber as they snake around him multiple times, every time you see him and really up the exaggeration in your emotions and reactions. It’s definitely a love-hate relationship but deep down, Deathstroke does car. Another one who wouldn’t directly cuddle. Though I imagine if you ever got super hurt to the point you needed to be hospitalised, he would fight tooth and nail to sit by your side. He would hold your hand until you woke up, not letting go even to sleep himself. He would kick out anyone too loud, including nurses and medical staff. He would vehemently deny it but can’t help himself as the worry bleeds through. Don’t go dying on him yet, he needs his daily dosage of annoyance.
Flash -[ROMANTIC]
Barry absolutely adores you. Like this man enjoys jokes and pranks so having you around is more of a blessing than a nuisance. He’s probably one of the few people that you won’t be sleeping around. Both of you are too excitable and hyperactive to really slow down and feel your exhaustion. He’s usually the first one turning up to any of your crime moments, most of the time cheering you on or just watching the chaos unfurl. If the two of you did end up sleeping together (NOT LIKE THAT), then you would be a nightmare to live near (this sounds so bad, I swear it isn’t). Both of you would snore really loud, like so loud that it can be heard through walls. And neither of you would be able to stay still as you sleep. Barry is a chronic kicker in my opinion and you would probably roll around a lot. Somehow, you both consistently wake up without the blanket, you star-fishing on an angle and Barry half off the bed. No one would be able to walk you up through the cacophony of your shared sounds.
Green Arrow -[ROMANTIC/PLATONIC]
This could either way because he would be super protective and vigilant no matter the type of relationship you have with him. If you’re romantically entangled then he would stop you from cuddling with him anywhere other than your home because when you do cuddle, he lays on top of you. This isn’t just to feel close to you but also to protect you from any intruders. If anyone wanted to get to you, they’d have to get through him first. Try to ignore the knife under your pillow, he needs it within grabbing distance just in case. If you were platonically intertwined, then I can see him indulging in hugs and cuddles so long as it doesn’t restrict his limbs. So if you wanna nap on him, go for it. He wouldn’t sleep with you, though he desperately needs it, but he would stroke your back and ensure that no loud sounds would disturb you. Oliver won’t deter anyone from coming in the room but should they start shouting or making loud noises unnecessarily, he will send them a sharp look to tone it down.
Green Lantern -[ROMANTIC/PLATONIC]
I definitely think that this man is desperate for someone to adore him. He wants to be your hero, a guiding light. He needs this, man. If romantic, then I see him super eager for nap time except he won’t shut up about how great he is. You want to sleep, he wants to yap. Two lovers doomed to fall apart. However, all it takes is a threat to go to someone else for your much needed beauty rest to get him to buck up and settle into the quiet with you. If platonic, similarly to romantic, he needs to be wanted. He wants to be that cool, older brother figure to you. I imagine you would prefer this version since he would just lift you up into a piggy back ride where the gentle jostling will lull you to sleep. Occasionally he may use his Ring to make you a blanket or a stuffed toy for extra comfort. Hal is so paranoid that someone is going to wake you up though that he becomes the person who wakes you up, leaving you to fulfil your threat and find comfort elsewhere. He is heartbroken and falls to his knees in shame.
Harley Quinn -[PLATONIC]
Do not fall asleep on or near Harley if you don’t want the life to be squished out of you. She has a case of cuteness aggression and it’s bad. You fell asleep by yourself, and woke up to be fully engulfed by Harley and her two pet hyenas, with her using you as her personal teddy bear. It’s warm, cosy and honestly addictive. Anytime you do wake up, it’s pretty easy for you to fall back asleep. Harley snores a little, and she’s quite active when she’s asleep, but if she’s rolling she’s taking you with her. Anyone who dares interrupt the smallest bit of serotonin that she holds close to her gets to meet her beloved hyenas up and close. A few poor delivery men and cold callers have been chased through the streets of Gotham multiple times. Some have tried bribing them but they’re too loyal to the cuddle pile.
Joker -[PLATONIC]
This man is not your friend. I put platonic because I don’t see him pursuing you romantically because all he’s interested in is seeing how far he can push you before you break. One of his favourite ways to do so is through sleep deprivation. Anytime you are paired together for a mission, you get no sleep. From playing trombone music, to insisting the lights stay to even shocking you with a cattle spike to keep you awake, he’s trying anything and everything. Because of this, you’ve been turning down a lot of opportunities to do crime with him so he’s been following you from place to place. Probably the number one reason why you crash at Constantine’s, you don’t want to go home to a psycho maniac clown who has a penchant for an Eminem-Metallica blend. However, I will say that in the very rare moments the Joker lets you sleep (probably like a hour or two before the mission plan starts), he will absolutely beat the person who woke you up. He beats them to a pulp with a crowbar and then hands you the crowbar as a gift. Only he can disturb you. Only he can torment you.
Lex Luther -[ROMANTIC]
Lex hates it, especially when it happens in public. He pretends he doesn’t know you and calls security to ‘take care of you’- .i.e. lock you up in your shared quarters. He questions why he’s with you every day. Similar to Constantine, he’s just in a constant state to ‘WHY THEM?!?!’. It’s almost like a blow to his ego and intelligence. The only good part is that he can show off to Superman and watch as the Kryptonian struggles with his jealously. That’s the only time he would publicly indulge your clingy habits. In private though? There are some rarer moments where he lets himself be encompassed by you. You practically bear hug each time, and each time he breathes in like he was hurt before forcing his body to relax, muscle by muscle. It’s not easy, his walls are as tall as the Great Wall of China is long. If anyone interrupts him, he’s quick to toss you off of him before addressing them, remembering their face and name so he can have them ‘dealt with’. No one should see him in his most vulnerable moments… But can you come continue cuddling him? He’s getting cold.
Martian Manhunter -[PLATONIC]
I think he’s very intrigued and amused by you. Kind of like a human to a cute puppy or frog, if that fits you more. Like he’ll indulge you here and there but is very neutral most of the time. However, he is kind of a secret sower of chaos. He would absolutely pass you candy so that you become so hyperactive, that the others are a bit scrambled. If he has the time, he will sit by you as you sleep and listen in to your dreams. With your consent, of course. It’s the best way he can learn about you since your powers prevent him from using most of his on you. A pair of oddities you are. Should anyone attempt to wake you, he just calmly says something like ‘That is not the best course of action. Please reconsider’. If they don’t, then he just picks you up and moves into the next room. Also another person to accidentally wake you up whilst chasing others away, but unlike a certain lamp guy, he learns and doesn’t do it again.
Mister Freeze -[PLATONIC]
Why are you sleeping on him? He is quite literally deathly cold. You say it’s perfect for a nest of blankets. He calls you weird. You call him old. That silences Victor and he grumbles but lets you do as you please. You know that type of dad that doesn’t express their affection through words, but rather actions? Yeah, thats Victor. The next time you come to seek refuge from a child drawing of a clown come to life, there’s extra fluffy and better quality bedding and pillows. Oh, and they so happen to be in your favourite colour. If you ask him, he’ll tell you some story about having them back in his old home and he was going to get rid of them, but if you like them so much, you can keep them. You ignore the tag still on the sheets. When he thinks you’re asleep, he brushes your hair out of your face. Sometimes as you fuss in your sleep, he hums or sings a soft lullaby. If anyone attempts to disturb you in his laboratory, they wouldn’t even make it to the inner door before one of his inventions dealt with them.
Nightwing -[PLATONIC/ROMANTIC]
Similar to Green Lantern, this man is begging you to sit in his lap for cuddles and naps. Dick is super touch starved and lacks like really good intimacy skills, both platonic or romantic. As soon as you sit in his lap and fall asleep, his whole body locks up. He freezes and has to remind himself that he needs to breathe. Dick probably shed a tear and feels blessed/chosen. He barely touches you but once he becomes comfortable enough, he’ll trace small circles on your back. Definitely one of the few who would accidentally wake you up and he feels so betrayed by his own body. If someone tries to wake you or makes noise, he instinctively grips you tighter and shoots them a glare. It’s his cuddle time, not anyone else’s! I see him as the type of person to try and plan the nap sessions though, because he can’t really deal with spontaneity quite well and after the first few random times, would want a designated time for it. He would also try and force you to wear matching pyjamas.
Penguin -[PLATONIC]
This man is so comfy to sleep on. The only issue is, he doesn’t like to sit still for long and loses his temper quickly which means he is very loud most of the time. However, should you attempt it he won’t dissuade you. He would prefer you do it whilst he’s attending paperwork with minimal distractions. Oswald just kind of sees you like a nuisance he has on a leash, almost like a pet but without the dehumanisation. If any of his goons try to interrupt or say something to him, he puts a pair of noise cancelling headphones on you or covers your ears before shouting. He wouldn’t sleep with you, valuing his time much more and would probably feel too vulnerable to do so. He would provide you with sleeping attire and would insist that you get changed before snuggling because he wouldn’t want any dirt or Gotham grime on his freshly pressed suit. You wouldn’t really visit him that often because he’s way too close to the Joker, both geographically and sometimes on missions.
Poison Ivy -[PLATONIC]
Let’s be real, Pamela probably drugged you. You are way too hyperactive for her sometimes so in order to keep you calm around her plants and not excite Harley too much, she drugs you. Nothing serious but just enough to make you sleeping. It’s probably just an intense chamomile and lavender extract. She sometimes cuddles you but it’s not really her style. She adores you but she also values her personal space sometimes. If you do it during a mission, she’ll humour you but not for long because she wants to get back to her greenhouse and lover (Harley) as soon as possible. She would definitely be the type to brag about it, subtly though. And her main victims? Batman and Nightwing. Anytime she crosses paths with them, she drops a couple of lines about you not being afraid of her and how willing you are to return to the home she shares with Harley. They don’t need to know that she drugs you for it most of the time.
Ra’s al Ghul -[ROMANTIC]
This man is babying you. If you’re napping, or even climb into his lap, he’s cancelling what he has planned for the day. He’s lived far longer than his enemies and he’ll live long after they died, so he can spare a few hours to dote and cuddle you. He definitely makes you get changed into the most luxurious sleep ware, silk with encrusted diamond and ruby enamelling as well as gold thread details. It’s probably worth the same as a small European country. If he’s feeling cocking, Ra’s will have you in his lap during meetings and overseeing training. Damien has more than once questioned why you’re there but has soon gotten used to it. Ra's wouldn't sleep with you, but he would be more than happy to just watch you doze and ensure you stay wrapped up.
Red Hood -[ROMANTIC]
The second you lay in his lap, my man is freezing up and having an inner panic attack. He's so touch starved yet touch avoident that he sort of glitches and says nothing, staying absolutely still. Its a bit difficult for you to hug him but you try to make it work. Jason feels as though he destroys everything he touches so it'll take a while for him to relax and settle. It becomes a drug to him, he needs your presence to sleep. When his goons point out you're a nuisance, he just sighs and looks dreamily at you like 'my nuisance'. He doesn't care if his goons see you cuddling, its just something they have to get used to but as soon as a family member or another rogue swings by, he's all dark and brooding. Times like these he unceremoniously drops you from his arms before acting all militant. But don't worry, he'll make it up to you with cuddles later.
Riddler -[ROMANTIC/PLATONIC]
At first Edward is fully against it. He pushes you off of him and berates you for doing something so childish and unseemly, brushing invisible dirt of his custom tailored suit. It’s fine, you get your revenge by not giving him an ounce of your attention. First, you refuse to partner up with him for missions, then you decline his calls, you ignore him when he speaks to. You do all of this before he basically begs (though he won’t ever admit to it) for your forgiveness and pulls you into his arms. Edward thought he was above it all and now he won’t make that mistake a second time. His goons aren’t allowed in the room when you cuddle though, so they have to communicate through very awkward rushed scribbles on paper that are then stuffed under the door or window. Many a times they have conducted raids like this, and it wasn’t until Batman invaded their base that someone suggested text messages or some other easy when to communicate. Riddler will actually pout if you wake up or move away before he’s had his daily dose of you and will immediately kill anyone who wakes you up.
Scarecrow -[PLATONIC]
He loathes physical touch and how silly you are in what is supposed to be a serious endeavour. Jonathan would absolutely use his Fear gas on you, just to see what happens. What he didn’t expect was for you to become extra clingy as you saw things you couldn’t explain and used him to ground yourself. He hated it, you wouldn’t let go of his arms as you sobbed. You wouldn’t let go, couldn’t. Your grip was ironclad and left dark purple bruises on his skin. At some point during your awful psychedelic trip, Jonathan Crane got used to you. It wasn’t a huge switch. It was gradual and slow, building to a neutrality. He didn’t hate you touching him, but he didn’t love it either. However, by the time he got used to your presence, you were flat out cold. The gas had scared you so much you spiralled yourself into exhaustion and fell asleep. On him. He would feel bad but you’ve basically anchored him down to one spot and now he can’t do his work.
Superman -[ROMANTIC]
First I got to say, choosing Clark Kent for cuddles and naps is the best choice here. That man is southern hospitality and sunshine all wrapped up in a beefcake who loves puppies and flowers. He is so down for cuddles, like almost desperately so. He gets so giddy and giggling when you begin to climb into his lap. Let me just say that you won’t need any blankets or pillows, this man is warm enough. If someone tries to wake you up or if he wants to annoy the other members of the Justice League, he will just make sure you’re all secure (probably as a bear hug) and then just fly in the air. He’ll use his laser eyes to cut around walls to make sure its quiet enough for you before floating high above whatever city he was in. This definitely pisses off Bruce and the Flash. He would wake you up with sweet innocent kisses across your face until you stirred and then gently fly you to Paris or Smallville for a nice ‘breakfast’. He would never wake you up accidentally because he has your heartbeat on his radar at all times.
Talia al Ghul -[ROMANTIC]
Much like her father, Talia absolutely spoils you. Matching sleeping attire? Check! 5 star facial treatments for the both of you? Check! Silk sheets in an European palace? Check! As for who falls asleep on who? It could go either way as Talia adores cuddling you, it gives her the perfect opportunity to pinch and poke you and have you whenever she pleases. She’d probably drug you a little bit, just to keep you nice and complacent. She coils around you like a snake and she’s so soft that you don’t even feel the set of daggers she’s strapped to her body in case of intruders. It’s somewhat similar when she’s the little spoon as she’s always armed and loves to just lounge on you. Talia would wake you up with sex or slow kisses across your face and upper body. She’s the boldest with her claim and would shoot someone dead for attempting to take you away from her, before cooing over your sleepy mumbles.
Two-Face -[ROMANTIC]
Harvey is a man who thrives on the chaos you bring. But rather than scold you for sleeping on the job, he would probably see it as you recuperating your energy. He would feel blessed that you, basically his God at this point, would choose to sleep on him. The very level of vulnerability you have shown him is all but a marriage proposal. He would guard you with his life and would kill anything or anyone in the perimeter, regardless if they made noise or not. To him, he can’t take any chances. He also wouldn’t sleep with you, too paranoid and alert to relax. It may even be that he puts you in a secure safe room which has been done up to be your bedroom. It has over 60 different types of locks and most of them have answers that only Harvey knows. He would stroke your face whilst you slept and whisper some sort of ranted prayer. The only way he would wake you was if the compound was under attack and he needed to move you. Any other time, he is actively trying to soothe you so you return to your slumber.
Wonder Woman -[ROMANTIC/PLATONIC]
For Diana, it could go either way as she’s going to hold you in one arm or on her hip like a baby because to her, you’re her baby. If your relationship is platonic, then she’ll indulge in your clinginess and use it to brag to Bruce. (Both her and Clark like to watch him struggle a bit). She’s another one that wouldn’t nap with you, but would stay awake just to ensure you’re safe and sound. Plus, I imagine as a demigod she doesn’t really need that much sleep. If your relationship is romantic, then she may be clingy too. If you nap together in the safe space of your shared home, then you aren’t going anywhere. Her arms are like iron bars once they find purchase around your waist. She also doesn’t really care for matching pyjamas but she does adore you when you wear her sweats. No matter your size, she has a version of hers in it. She doesn’t wake you up either. But Diana definitely wakes up before you and just stares at your face until you wake up. She likes to memorise these moments because she doesn’t know when they may end. If someone wakes you up on accident, she gently chides them before doting on you as you are extra cute to her when you’re sleepy.
Hope you enjoyed! This came out as more of sleeping headcannons but either way I hope it was a good read.
also some are shorter than others sorry i just wanna post…
MLM BLOG!! WOMEN DNI
Bruce Wayne
Cannot stay in bed for the life of him.
You would need to make him have sleeping pills just so he could rest, but he's too diligent to take them
He needs to be down in the Batcave wdym he can't be down there??
Once you finally get him to rest even for the shortest amount of time, he's out like a light
Heavy sleeper with the worst nightmarish fever dreams
If he wakes up and you're not nearby, he'll tweak out and think maybe the dream was real
He hates tomato soup idk he just looks like he would. Give him some chicken noodle soup.
Dick Grayson
Doesn't get sick often, he has a good immune system actually
When he is, he acts like he's a dying victorian child
Doesn't stay in bed but not because he needs to fight crime, but because he's just restless
He complains and also wants you to cuddle with him
Asks if he's gonna die and if you're an angel (corny and dramatic)
Either too hot or too cold no in between.
Tells stories from when he was in the circus and times he got sick there.
He gets out of bed to stand behind you while you cook. He’s still clingy.
Jason Todd
Also doesn't get sick like ever but the one time he does he thinks its so over
Is the easiest to keep in bed, but also he's paranoid like constantly
Just get him to nap and it'll mostly be over but also his nightmares with probably be worse
Needs you nearby when he wakes up
Clingy but also distant like a cat sorta. He’ll come to you on his own time.
Won’t fight if you make food. Who is he to deny good food? Especially from his boyfriend maybe even husband.
He gets delirious and starts imagining marrying you honestly.
Tim Drake
The worst to keep in bed. It’s only a cold, he doesn’t need to stay in bed forever.
Then it feels like he’s about to collapse and now you’re here to keep him in bed.
Enjoys physical affection, but god he is so sweaty he only holds your hand.
On his phone or tablet or laptop a good chunk of the time. Some work, some just him playing a random game.
Very big YouTube while sick guy. Like you can’t make him sit in silence, he needs some videos on weird facts or true crime.
Threatens to cough on you a lot.
Hardly talks when the cold is over. He sounds so bad.
Damian Wayne
Says he never gets sick, which is kinda true. Insanely good immune system.
The one time he does get sick? Absolutely miserable. And it’s just a cold too.
He’s like a cat in the way where he hides away when sick. You think he’s gone on some mission or something but no, he’s just locked in his room.
Has Alfred to make him soup, but say you two are alone he will sadly eat canned soup.
No chicken noodle, only vegetable soup.
Top grade medicine ofc. He needs to get better fast. Surprisingly won’t try to sneak out to go do other things. He knows how sicknesses work.
He isn’t much of a physical affection person anyway, so he can deal with you being in his room but not touching him.
But if you’re the idiot here, then he’ll push you away from getting sick.
Verbally shuts down. Just let exist nearby him until it’s over.
Clark Kent
Very, very rarely gets sick. He’s kryptonian, he doesn’t get that stuff.
But say he ends up with some odd alien illness in this scenario. He’s pretty positive even during the illness that he’s gonna be fine.
“It’s probably something like a cold to those guys. I’ll be up in no time!”
He didn’t get sick as a kid, but he does know quite a few recipes from Ma and Pa that work like a charm.
He is a big enjoyer of vegetable soup and chicken noodle soup.
He complies most of the time in bed, but he can’t help but worry if you get sick with it. That would be terrible, but he would still be there to take care of you.
Lays outside to sunbathe like a cat. You can lay next to him if you want, or just watch from the porch.
Conner Kent
Most stubborn Kent. Does not enjoy having to stay in bed. I mean he does take this as an excuse to keep you close to him though.
He is so cuddly and annoying. You are gonna end up sick.
He has a better than average immune system, but it’s the weirdest things that randomly get him.
Hates the sunlight in his eyes when he’s trying to nap but also needs the blinds open for maximum healing efficiency.
Says you need to carry him everywhere. You don’t really need to, but he’s just so sad and pathetic.
He looks more like a lizard under a heat lamp than a cat sun-basking. Different levels of grace and serenity.
Julien Jourdain
Jules is a known diva, and that extends to his sickness (a common cold).
He’s pushing you away in the morning, whining about how hot it is.
You check his temperature and he’s convinced he’s to die in 3 days.
Very big soup enjoyer. Stands behind you while you cook to make sure you put all the good spices in. Arms around your waist.
Also give him fruits. Fruits with tajin.
He makes sure to not sneeze or cough anywhere near you, don’t worry. But if you do end up sick, he’s the biggest caretaker.
Loves watching old Spanish soap operas while he eats. He can translate for you if you can’t speak it. Or just vaguely explain what’s happening.
Cries that he looks chopped and ugly when he’s sick.
Lex
Has had and cured many illnesses in his time, but when you insist on him resting because he apparently has a cold? Yea, good luck.
And that’s how he ended up so tightly wrapped he couldn’t leave the bed.
Lex is a complainer, which you’ve come to accept. He is a man who requires many things, like a spoiled houseplant.
Specific blankets, pillows, room temperature. He needs his soup to be made not from a can.
Keeps affection minimal. Just the smallest knuckle kisses.
Enjoys you being in bed with him. He doesn’t cuddle, just lies there and you can drag him close.
Thinks you’re an idiot when you do cuddle him though. You’ll probably end up sick and he’ll be the one to take care of you.
He talks like that would be an inconvenience, but he doesn’t mind it fully.
Big coffee guy, but will settle for hot chocolate.
Bane
Surprisingly mostly normal when sick.
Like yea he moves around a lot and also you have to cuddle him when he's sick, no questions asked.
And no you can't get away even when he's asleep it's like an oversized dog.
He huffs like a dog who doesn’t work a 9-5 if you aren’t in bed with him.
Chances are you'll might end up sick as well.
Would rather wear his masks but reluctantly lets you take it off.. at least to let his mouth and nose out.
He thinks soups taste too bland you gotta make it spicy for him.
Takes his medicine and then immediately knocks out like a hibernating bear.
warning/tags: smut, minors DNI, thigh riding, bulge riding, cum in pants, biting, blood, dick sucking, cum eating.
Bleed for you
Bane finally returned to you late at night. You could always tell by the way his footsteps carried down the hall when he was exhausted. He filled the doorway with that imposing frame, and you instantly noticed it. He was in more pain tonight. The faint hitch in his movements gave it away. He didn’t want you to see. He never did. The mask made it easy for him to hide, but you had learned to read him long ago.
“Rough day?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the silence.
Bane’s head inclined just slightly, his eyes flicking to you. “The world does not change without resistance,” he replied. “And resistance… is often costly.”
You crossed the room to him, not hesitating as you did what few others would ever dare. You lifted your hands to his chest, pushing gently until he let you guide him to sit down. He lowered himself into the worn armchair with a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh but came close. You straddled his lap, pressing your knees against the sides of his thick thighs, grounding him beneath you.
His body was all tension under your touch. You slid your hands up over the fabric of his vest, over his shoulders, kneading carefully at the thick cords of muscle, feeling how hard he was holding himself together. “You’re carrying too much,” you murmured.
He tilted his head back against the chair, letting your hands work over him. For a man who broke others without hesitation, he was strangely pliant beneath your touch. He always was.
“No one else dares to tell me such things,” he rumbled.
“Because no one else dares to love you,” you said simply as you worked your thumbs in firm circles at the base of his neck. “But I do. Let me take some of this from you. Just for tonight.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of his breathing through the mask, then he shifted, settling his big hands on your hips, grounding you in place. You slid your fingers beneath the collar of his vest, brushing his warm skin, feeling the ridges of old scars, the knots of muscle after years of survival and violence.
“You would knead stone itself into softness,” he said finally.
You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “Only because I know there’s more than stone beneath.”
You pressed deeper into the massage, working down along his shoulders. He bowed his head forward slightly, almost as if he sought your closeness, brushing his mask against your temple. He flexed his hands gently at your waist, grounding himself in the warmth of you. The low sound he made as you dug your thumbs into the tight knots at the base of his neck sent a shiver down your spine. His mask turned slightly, brushing against your cheek as though he couldn’t help but lean closer.
“Does it ease you?” you whispered as your lips grazed the edge of the mask.
“Yes,” he rumbled with that deep vibration of his voice through the device. “It eases… because it is your hands.”
Your heart swelled at the words, and you shifted a little on his lap, pressing yourself closer against him, making him tighten his hands at your waist in response. You skid your fingertips lower, over the curve of his shoulders, down along the solid expanse of his chest.
“You hold yourself together for everyone else,” you murmured, trailing kisses along the sharp lines of his mask. “But with me… You can let go.”
Bane’s chest rose sharply beneath you, a sound escaping him, one you’d swear was pleasure. He tilted his head again, offering himself to you in a way no one else could ever imagine. “You would tame the beast,” he said..
“Not tame,” you corrected gently, brushing your lips against his temple. “But love.”
You accidentally shifted your hips against him, and the friction sparked something hotter in the quiet between you. His grip on you tightened instantly, digging his fingers into your sides. The growl that came from the mask this time was primal. He finally moved his hands from your waist to your back, spreading wide, pulling you flush against his chest.
“I am… unworthy of such tenderness,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost breaking beneath the mask’s distortion.
“You’re mine,” you answered fiercely. “And that makes you worthy.”
The sound he made then was guttural, he was shaking, as though the words themselves undid something inside him. He crushed you closer with his arms, holding you as though he feared you might vanish, as though you were the only thing keeping him alive.
You still worked at the knots in his shoulders, pressing and kneading his flesh, but your body had begun to betray you. It was impossible not to notice the way his sheer size consumed you. Sitting astride him like this, your knees barely reached the edges of his thigh, you felt small and delicate, and something about that made you shiver. His legs were massive, thick, with muscles built from years of discipline.
Without meaning to, you shifted again, pressing down your cunt against him. The rough fabric of his pants caught the thin barrier of yours, sending a spark of desire through your center. You bit your lip and tried to focus on your hands on his shoulders, but the heat pooling in your belly was getting hard to ignore, and so you moved your hips once again, grinding along the breadth of his thigh.
Bane stilled beneath you, he let out a low sound that rumbled through his mask, making your pulse trip. “You think I do not notice,” he said at last, with hunger in his tone. His gloved hand tightened at your hip, dragging you forward until your pussy pressed more firmly against his thigh. “You crave this... Do not stop.”
Your body shivered at the permission, no, at the command. You rolled your hips instinctively, grinding down against the solid muscle of his thigh. God, he was huge beneath you, each flex of his leg felt like steel. His thigh was so wide you had to spread your knees farther just to straddle him properly, and when you did, the friction made you clutch at his shoulders, digging your nails through the fabric as your breath quickened.
He pressed his leg upward suddenly, flexing the muscle beneath you, and the jolt of pressure against your core made you gasp. “Feel how strong I am beneath you,” he said as he started to guide your movements against him. “So small in my hands… and yet you set me aflame.”
“Bane—” his name came out broken and needy, like a plea more than a word.
“That’s it,” he encouraged you. “Take what you need, little one.”
You fluttered your eyes shut as you rocked desperately against him, every pass dragging deliciously against your slick and swollen clit, sending jolts of fire up your spine. His thigh shifted beneath you, tensing and pressing just enough for you to grind harder, harder, aching for more. Hi size making you feel impossibly small, fragile, utterly his, every shiver and squeeze of his muscles was pushing you higher.
“You are so… small,” he murmured, almost reverently, as he looked at you. “And yet you dare to use me so boldly.”
His words lit a fire inside you, and you pressed harder, rocking and grinding down with a frantic, desperate rhythm, muffling your moans against the thick line of his neck. Bane spread his massive hand over your lower back, gripping and guiding you, pressing you into his thigh with force. He wasn’t just holding you, he was making you move, forcing you to use him, dragging every pulsing nerve of your cunt across his leg, wringing every ounce of trembling pleasure from your body as you shivered and arched helplessly.
“That’s my girl,” he growled. “So sweet, so eager. Take your pleasure on me.”
The contrast of his bulk and his impossible strength, with the way he let you unravel yourself against him, made you ache. You loved this man, loved being the only one who got to see this side of him, one he kept hidden from anyone else but you. Being with Bane made you feel safe, protected. There was nothing like having someone taking care of you all the time, because even in his gruffness, he still could be so endearingly sweet, but only to his girl.
You clung to him, grinding and riding his thigh harder, lost entirely in the heat. His breath hitched audibly through the mask, his own arousal was undeniable, the thickness of his cock strained against his pants, pressing urgently against the zipper as if it couldn’t contain him another second. Every muscle tensed with need, his veins were standing out, but he held himself back with iron control, holding your hips. But he held himself in check, all his focus was on you. You always came first.
You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but the more you ground down, the less you could stop yourself. Bane kept his hands on your hips, still guiding you against him, sometimes pushing you harder, sometimes letting you ride at your own desperate pace.
“Look at you,” he rumbled. “So needy. So desperate on my leg alone.”
The words made you whimper, made your hips move even faster. You clawed at his vest, at the thick fabric stretched across his chest, until finally you couldn’t take it anymore. You tore at the straps and fastenings, pulling hard until the heavy material slipped from his shoulders.
A guttural sound ripped from your throat as you leaned down, sinking your teeth into the hard slope of his shoulder. Bane growled, a sound that vibrated through his chest and into your body, but he didn’t push you away. No, he pulled you tighter, digging into your hips, pressing you flush against him.
“Bite me,” he urged. “Show me your hunger.”
You bucked your hips hard against his thigh, grinding frantically, desperately, sinking your teeth into him again and again, tasting the salt, and sweat of his taut, unyielding skin. It was an instinct, a need, every time you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, you bit him, claimed him under your teeth.
You gnawed at his shoulder, his chest, the thick cord of his arm, anything your reach could find, biting with a ferocity that would make any other man flinch, but Bane didn’t. He growled, holding you tighter, keeping you close to him.
Every flex of his thigh gave you more pressure, every shift in his massive muscles made you cry out louder.
“Harder,” you gasped, biting down on the thick curve of his bicep, grinding down so hard it bordered on frantic. “Please—Bane—please—”
“You would tear me apart with your teeth,” he growled, tightening his other hand painfully on your hip as he forced you down harder against him. “Do it. Mark me. Break yourself on me.”
The command sent you spiraling. You bit him again, harder this time, over the curve of his shoulder, until your jaw ached. At the same time, your hips stuttered and jerked, grinding so violently against his thigh that you couldn’t hold back a single pulse of pleasure.
The orgasm tore through you, brutal and all-consuming, making you shake and quiver in his lap, slick pooling beneath you. Bane’s growl vibrated through you, matching the rhythm of your thrashing, as if your pleasure, your desperate release, were feeding his own hunger.
His enormous body held you steady as if you weighed nothing at all. He made no move to stop you, no flinch at your biting. When it finally ebbed, you collapsed against his chest, your teeth leaving one last shaky imprint in his skin. He smoothed a hand over your back, his fingers were so broad they covered half of it in one pass,
He cradled your face with one hand, tilting it up to meet his burning gaze. “You could gnaw at me until your teeth broke,” he said. “And still I would endure it… because it is you. Because in your hunger, you’re still mine.”
You lifted your head, brushing your lips against his skin. “Bane… I want to make you cum too.”
You hated leaving him unattended like this. He could claim he didn’t mind, but you knew the ache in his groin was there, hard and pulsing from the blood that had made his cock stubbornly erect. It throbbed, insistent, and demanding, and you always felt it as your mission, your duty, to relieve him, to free him from any pain.
He tilted his head, and the deep rumble of his laugh vibrated through the mask. “You wanna tempt me, little one? You wanna give me that small body?”
Your hips moved of their own accord, pressing against the hard bulge beneath his pants. He was huge, you’d seen it plenty of times, felt it against and inside your body countless times, but that didn’t make it any less breathtaking, it never failed to amaze you. It was the kind of cock you never grew fully used to, that made you helplessly crave it every single time.
“Yes,” you whispered, kissing along his throat. “I want to feel you lose control. I want to feel you cum.”
Bane growled, holding your hips so hard you gasped. “Then do it.”
You rocked against him harder, faster, your slick soaking through the thin fabric between you, sliding over the thick ridge of his cock beneath his pants. Every press, every frantic grind sent shivers up your spine, made your clit throb violently.
He shifted his hips just slightly, matching your desperate movements, pressing back into you, adding more weight, more pressure, more friction.
“You are insatiable,” he said. “So small, yet you take me as if you were made for it.”
The words sent a shiver through you, and you bit down again on the thick curve of his shoulder, harder this time, so deep you tasted copper, a metallic flavor, drawing a sharp bead of blood from him.
Bane groaned low, and he didn’t push you away. No, he welcomed it, pressing you closer, relishing the rawness, the need, the mess of pleasure and pain, letting every shiver, every tremble, every desperate bite fuel his hunger for you.
“Yes,” he growled, his breath breaking through the mask in uneven hisses. “Mark me. Claim me. Make me bleed for you.”
Your mouth smeared crimson over his skin as you kissed and bit him again, harder, frantic, your hips grinding wildly over his cock now, chasing his release. His length pulsed beneath you against the confinement of his pants, every roll of your hips was dragging him closer to the edge.
“Cum for me,” you begged, raking down his chest with your nails as you bit him again. “I want to feel it, Bane, love, please—”
He slammed his hands on your hips, holding against him, keeping you there, forcing you to grind over the length of him with brutal precision.
“You would make me fall,” he snarled. “You… you would bring me to my knees.”
“Yes,” you gasped, biting him over the muscle of his chest so deep the taste of blood filled your mouth once again.
That was the end of him. Bane’s whole body stiffened beneath you, a roar tearing from his throat, and he buckled up his hips against you as his climax ripped through him. His cock pulsed hard under your grinding, spilling his hot and thick release into his pants as he groaned. You felt the wet heat of it, spreading through the fabric, soaking between you, the evidence of his surrender staining you both.
You shifted onto your knees, and looked up at him. Slowly, you leaned forward, brushing the fabric of his pants with your lips. The sticky cum on the fabric clung to your lips instantly. It tasted like him, like your Bane.
Bane growled bracing his hands on your shoulder. “Do you want this, hmm? You want to taste me?”
You nodded. “Yes… I need it… need to taste you.”
Your tongue traced every ridge through the thin fabric, tasting the salty and slightly bitter taste of his cum. You sucked and licked, feeling him shiver and twitch with overstimulation.
“Good girl… take it, clean me. Show me you want it.” Bane’s words were soft, yet edged with need.
You carefully pulled him free from his pants, trembling slightly at the sheer weight and heat of him. His cock was slightly soft now, but the veins were still thick, pulsing, the size overwhelming even in this state, impossible to ignore. A glossy layer of his cum coated the shaft, dripping in sticky rivulets where it had pooled, and your mouth watered uncontrollably at the sight, aching to take every inch into your lips and taste him fully.
Leaning in, you traced your tongue along the entire length, tasting him fully. You slid your lips down slowly at first, gentle and teasing, then tightened around him, sucking with more pressure, dragging the warm, sticky mess deeper into your mouth. You could feel every ridge, every pulse, the softening cock still impossibly thick in your grasp, throbbing under your lips. Your tongue worked methodically, swirling, licking, cleaning every last drop of his cum, tasting him, claiming him in the most intimate, messy way imaginable.
Bane growled low, pressing his hips instinctively forward, letting you have your way with him, moaning softly into the mask. “That’s it… You take such good care of me.”
“That’s because you deserve it…” You swirled your tongue, licked every slick strand, tracing the shaft, the base, the head, every sticky curve, making sure not a drop remained.
Bane grunted, tilting his hips, letting you finish your task, every inch of the act raw, filthy, and completely intimate, leaving you both sated and dripping, bound together by the mess and the need.
After you’d lapped and cleaned every trace of him, you shifted back, straddling him again. He wrapped his arms around you immediately. And you, small and trembling and marked by his blood and release, clung to him as he shook with the force of it.
“You’ve drunk my blood, and my seed.” His grip loosened just enough for him to stroke your back, his touch gentler now. “There is no force in this world stronger than you.”
You kissed the raw bite mark on his chest, whispering against him. “You’re mine, Bane.”
And for once, even he could not argue.
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A/N: Like I promised, here’s a softer Bane fic for the girls who wanted to see his more romantic side. Ughhh, I love a devoted man😩
I hope you can feel that strong, muscular thigh under you while reading🫦🫦 Thank you so much for being here, loves. I love you all soooo much!!
They realize they love you after a nightmare about you dying
Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin
The Joker
- The Joker had always laughed at the idea of love. It was messy, inconvenient, and far too human for someone as “elevated” as him. So, when the nightmare came—your lifeless body crumpled beneath the rubble of some grim Gotham alley—it caught him off guard. His cackles turned to hollow echoes as he screamed your name, the vibrant color of his world bleeding into dull gray.
- He jolted awake with a gasp, his face covered in a rare sheen of sweat. His usual smirk was absent as his wild eyes darted around the room, landing on your sleeping form beside him. You were alive, breathing softly, your face peaceful in slumber. The sight of you alive was a jolt to his twisted heart.
- For the first time in a long while, he didn’t laugh. He sat there, his thoughts in chaos, a war between his denial and the crushing realization that he couldn’t imagine a world without you. It scared him more than Batman ever could. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling to the surface.
- “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, his voice shaking. But his hand moved on its own, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and he froze, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his usually unhinged eyes.
- He stayed awake for hours, staring at you, convincing himself that this was just some fleeting weakness. But the image of your death lingered, gnawing at him, turning his denial into reluctant acceptance. “You’ve done it, haven’t you?” he whispered bitterly. “You’ve made the Clown Prince of Crime care.”
- The next morning, his usual theatrics were toned down. He stayed unusually close to you, his hand lingering on yours longer than normal. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and he waved it off with a manic laugh, but deep inside, he knew he’d never let you out of his sight again.
- That night, he held you a little tighter than usual, his arms wrapped around you as if to shield you from the world. “You’re mine,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “And no one will take you from me. Not even death.”
Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn
- Harley’s dreams were usually chaotic, filled with explosions, bright colors, and nonsensical antics. But this one was different. It was dark, quiet, and horrifying. She saw you, broken and bleeding, calling out to her with your last breath. No amount of laughter or jokes could save you.
- She woke with a start, her heart pounding and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Puddin’?!” she gasped instinctively, but then her eyes landed on you. You were there, next to her, your chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over her, and she let out a shaky laugh.
- Harley wasn’t one to dwell on emotions—she usually masked them with jokes and a bubbly exterior. But this dream? It shook her to her core. She sat up, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch your face, as if reassuring herself you were real.
- “What’s goin’ on with me?” she whispered to herself. She knew the answer deep down but wasn’t ready to admit it. The thought of losing you had torn her apart in the dream, and the intensity of her feelings scared her.
- For the rest of the night, she stayed awake, her mind racing. She replayed every moment with you, every smile, every laugh, and every time you’d stood by her side. “Guess I’m hooked,” she murmured with a small, bittersweet smile.
- The next day, she was more clingy than usual, following you around and cracking even more jokes than normal. You noticed her odd behavior, but she brushed it off with a wink and a kiss on the cheek. “Just feelin’ extra lovey-dovey today, sugar!”
- That night, as you lay in her arms, she finally whispered the words she’d been too scared to say aloud. “I love ya, ya know? Like… the real kinda love, not the crazy kinda love. Well, maybe a lil’ crazy, but still real.” She kissed your forehead, her heart lighter than it had been in years.
Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy
- Pamela’s dreams were rarely nightmares. But this one? It was a haunting vision of you lying lifeless among her beloved plants, your blood staining the green foliage. The image was so vivid, so horrifying, that it shattered her usual composure.
- She woke with a sharp inhale, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted to your side of the bed, relief flooding her as she saw you curled up peacefully. The nightmare lingered, though, its dark tendrils wrapping around her thoughts.
- Ivy wasn’t one to let emotions control her. She prided herself on being logical, detached. But this dream forced her to confront the truth she’d been avoiding. She cared for you—deeply, irrevocably—and the thought of losing you was unbearable.
- She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheek. Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she feared you might disappear if she pressed too hard. “You’ve rooted yourself in my life, haven’t you?” she whispered.
- For hours, she stayed by your side, watching you sleep, her mind racing with plans to ensure your safety. She’d protect you, no matter the cost. “No one will harm you,” she vowed quietly. “Not while I still breathe.”
- The next day, her demeanor was gentler than usual. She handed you a cup of tea, her green eyes soft as they met yours. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll keep you healthy. And stay close to me today, alright?” Her protective side was in full bloom.
- That night, as you lay in her arms, surrounded by the soft glow of her plants, she finally let herself be vulnerable. “You’re the one thing I can’t afford to lose,” she admitted. “I’ve spent my life fighting for the earth, but you? You’ve become my world.”
Bane
- Bane’s dreams were typically filled with battles and conquests, but this one was different. He saw you, broken and defeated, your life slipping away because he hadn’t been strong enough to protect you. The sight of your lifeless form was a blow worse than any he’d taken in the ring.
- He woke with a start, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. His eyes immediately sought you out, relief washing over him when he saw you safe and sound, curled up beside him. But the dream lingered, the pain and helplessness gnawing at him.
- Bane wasn’t used to feeling weak, but that nightmare had shaken him. He sat up, his massive frame tense as he stared down at you. “You are my strength,” he murmured, the words foreign on his tongue but no less true.
- For hours, he sat there, replaying the nightmare in his mind. He realized then just how much you meant to him, how deeply you’d carved yourself into his life. “I cannot lose you,” he vowed, his voice low and resolute.
- The next morning, his protective instincts were in overdrive. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, his large hand resting possessively on your shoulder. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You are important to me. That is reason enough.”
- That night, as you lay in his arms, he finally let his walls down. “I have fought many battles,” he said quietly. “But the thought of losing you? That is a battle I cannot win.” His voice was thick with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.
- Bane’s love was fierce and unwavering, and from that moment on, he made it his mission to keep you safe. “You are my heart,” he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I will protect you with every ounce of strength I possess.”
Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow
- Jonathan’s dreams were often macabre reflections of his own fears twisted into nightmarish landscapes. But this time, it wasn’t about him. The nightmare was about you—your lifeless body crumpled in a dark alley, surrounded by shadows, your voice calling his name in desperation before falling silent forever.
- He woke abruptly, his breath shallow and ragged, the echo of your scream still ringing in his ears. For a moment, he sat frozen, his hands trembling slightly. Then his eyes darted to the bed, where you lay peacefully, your chest rising and falling in soft rhythm.
- Jonathan wasn’t one to embrace vulnerability, yet this dream left him shaken. He stared at you, his mind racing with an uncomfortable realization: he cared for you far more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit. Losing you, even in a nightmare, felt like losing a part of himself.
- He leaned closer, his hand hovering over your cheek but not quite touching, as if afraid to disturb the calm you radiated. “You’re more dangerous than fear itself,” he murmured quietly, his voice tinged with a rare warmth. “Because you’ve made me weak.”
- The following day, Jonathan was quieter than usual, his sharp words softened when directed at you. He lingered in your presence, finding excuses to stay close, though he masked his concern with his usual intellectual aloofness.
- That night, as you stirred beside him, Jonathan finally let his guard down. “You don’t realize it, do you?” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’ve made me care… and that terrifies me.” His fingers brushed against yours, a silent vow to keep you safe.
- From that moment on, he became even more meticulous in his plans, ensuring no one could ever harm you. Jonathan Crane, the master of fear, had found something he feared more than anything: a world without you in it.
Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face
- Harvey’s nightmares were like a coin flip—sometimes they reflected his inner turmoil, other times they felt like cruel twists of fate. This time, it was the latter. He saw you, the one person who made him feel whole, bleeding out in his arms as he screamed for help that never came.
- He jolted awake, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as he gasped for air. His scarred side twitched involuntarily, but his eyes sought you immediately. Relief washed over him as he saw you sleeping soundly beside him, completely unaware of his inner torment.
- Harvey sat up, running a hand down his face. The nightmare had been too vivid, too real. He couldn’t shake the image of your lifeless body, the way your eyes had stared at him, full of trust even as the light faded from them.
- “You’re my anchor,” he whispered, his dual voice cracking slightly. “You make me believe there’s still something good in me.” The thought of losing you wasn’t just painful; it felt like losing the last shred of humanity he had left.
- The next day, Harvey was unusually protective, his coin flipping idly between his fingers as he shadowed your every move. When you teased him about being overly cautious, he brushed it off with a half-smile. “Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his deeper worry.
- That night, as you curled up beside him, Harvey wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You’re the one thing in my life that doesn’t need a coin flip,” he admitted softly. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
- From then on, his duality softened slightly when it came to you. Both sides of Harvey Dent—man and monster—agreed on one thing: you were worth everything. And he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him.
Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler
- Edward’s nightmares weren’t random; they were puzzles of his subconscious, riddled with hidden meanings and twisted scenarios. But this time, the riddle was cruelly simple: you were dead, taken from him in a moment of chaos he couldn’t control or predict. The answer to the nightmare was devastatingly clear—he couldn’t solve it.
- He woke in a cold sweat, his mind racing as if trying to piece together clues to prove the dream wasn’t real. When his eyes landed on you, still peacefully asleep beside him, he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his system.
- For once, Edward was at a loss for words. The nightmare had shaken him in a way few things could. He prided himself on his intellect, his ability to plan for every contingency, yet the thought of losing you felt like an unsolvable equation.
- “You’ve become my greatest mystery,” he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair as he watched you sleep. “How did you manage to make me feel this way?” His voice was tinged with frustration, but beneath it was an undeniable warmth.
- The next day, Edward was more attentive than usual, his riddles and taunts aimed at others rather than you. He stuck close, his sharp eyes scanning for any potential threat, though he masked his concern behind his usual arrogance.
- That night, as you curled up against him, Edward allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. “You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t need a riddle to explain,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “And I’ll make sure no one ever takes you from me.”
- From that point on, Edward’s plans always included you at the center, his mind working tirelessly to ensure your safety. For a man obsessed with answers, you had become the only certainty in his life.
Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin
- Oswald’s nightmares were usually filled with power struggles and betrayal, but this one was personal. He saw you, his constant companion and solace, gunned down in a rival’s crossfire. The sight of your blood pooling beneath you was enough to send a chill through even his cold heart.
- He woke with a start, his usual composure shattered as he sat up, his breath heavy. His sharp eyes immediately sought you out, relief flooding him as he saw you beside him, alive and unharmed. But the nightmare had left its mark.
- Oswald prided himself on his control, yet the dream had revealed a vulnerability he couldn’t ignore. He sat in silence, his mind replaying the nightmare over and over, each iteration driving home just how much you meant to him.
- “You’re more valuable than all the riches in Gotham,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. He reached out, his gloved hand brushing against yours, the gesture unusually tender for a man like him.
- The following day, Oswald’s protective instincts were in overdrive. He doubled your security, barking orders at his henchmen to ensure your safety. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You’re too important to risk.”
- That night, as you rested your head on his shoulder, Oswald finally let his walls down. “You’ve done the impossible,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve made the Penguin care about something other than power. And I won’t let anyone take that away from me.”
- From then on, his love for you was evident in every action. For a man who thrived in Gotham’s cold, dark underworld, you were his one source of light—and he’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.
It'd be a little funny if the rogues S/O saved them with a metal chair. One of those foldable ones
It seems like they lost, Batman hovering over the rogue, ready to take them to Arkham until BANG
Batman falls down
Behind him stands S/O, metal chair still in hand, suggesting that maybe they should escape now
Like c'mon Batman is never living that down. Especially if S/O isn't a rogue. Like he just got knocked out by a rando civilian who just so happens to kiss up on a rogue
Omg this is brilliant. Bruce is fucking scarlet. like how embarrassing. Dick isn't ever going to shut up about this now time for the rogues reactions!
Riddler/Edward Nygma
oh my god. that was so hot babe you don't even know.
genuinely will take a minute to commit this to his photographic memory. my god.
once you yell at him to get the fuck up and start running, he's by your side hand behind your back escorting you out.
he will also never forget this. both you and also the batman. this will be a jab he makes to the bat frequently.
"riddle me this batman, what has four legs, no heartbeat, and is the batman's kryptonite?" such a dick.
Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane
oh you brilliantly smart mouse.
he's already hopping up, spraying the bat in the face and then hroo hraa-ing outta there.
you're going to be showered with compliments. especially since you definitely saved his burlap. this man cannot go against batman in a 1v1. he's made of bones and straw. the wind can knock him over.
briefly ponders the possibility of batman having a fear of chairs after this. maybe by being sprayed after the attack has developed a new synapse?
TwoFace/Harvey Dent
hummanah hummanah. they've fallen for you all over again.
"what a woman/hunk"
their eyes genuinely pop out of their head.
they flip a coin and flee with you in tow. don't be surprised if they throw you over their shoulder as they do.
will be talking about that for ages. tells Penguin, Riddler -anyone who will listen really.
Their men will give you a nod of approval when they hear about it.
harv is ecstatic about this. his first reaction was that it was hot, whereas Harvey was the more concerned party.
Bane
oh my god.. you've certainly picked up on things form the ring.
thinks its hot also.
would never expected that from you! but I suppose watching batman reach for his tank was the limit for your gentle disposition.
he's relived he gave you that defence training now.
he's slightly more relaxed about your safety now he knows you can handle yourself.
but not completely obviously.
Black mask/Roman Sionis
HOT HOT HOT x10. its like the word is flashing in his brain with an alarm sound.
"doll that was the sexiest thing anyone has done ever"
you will be whisked away by him into his car and will gush over you in the backseat (okay that sounds wrong.. >:) )
you will be treated to a wonderful dinner and showered in gifts! somehow more than usual.
he's also telling everyone. he's gonna goad Red Hood with the fact his dad got whacked so easily by a fucking normal person?? like no prior training.. how embarrassing.
Reader x Rogues (Bane, Slade, Two-Face): The Rogues arrive home to find everything destroyed. Reader is gone, leaving only a note saying that if they want to see her, they have to go to the address on the paper. When they arrive, they see the mysterious thugs on the floor. They enter and see Reader beating up her kidnappers (she clearly learned how to defend herself/handle weapons from them; Reader is clearly okay but scared and has bloody knuckles from hitting so many people). The leader of the group tries to escape from Reader, but the Rogues grab him.
(have a beautiful day/night)
There was another ask for something like this, I’ll include that one here too, and I’ll try to do both of these, because you’ve got to imagine their significant other gets kidnapped at least once or twice, if not a lot and would just be fed up with it. But also...having your Rogue save you? Oh yes please! Their significant other will not be used as bait and anyone that hurts them will be hurt far worse. Are they prone to quick violence? Definitely! But at least that person(s) won't be able to hurt you again…right?
*Also wouldn’t it be so silly if one of the other rogues kidnapped you expecting Batman and got another very angry Rogue to deal with?
Kidnapped Darling...
A villain would sacrifice the world for you, never sacrifice you for the world…
Summary: Quick little drabbles for the characters Bane, Deathstroke, and TwoFace when they find out their significant other (female) has been kidnapped! These men are very fond of or in a sort of relationship with the reader, and would do anything to get them back.
Notes: I took some liberties with setting everything up, just because I believe each kidnapping would play out differently for each man, just to really get under their skin. But I hope you still like them and it's still close to what you imagined. I’m so sorry if they’re bad, I could write these so much longer with more detail, idk I’m bad at quick shorts
Warnings: Definitely gets a little graphic at times. Mentions of kidnapping, torture, and blood. Implied manipulation and rape.
Bane:
Bane returned home after another long meeting. He was a mercenary, one of the smartest and strongest, and these feeble minded, idiotic men made his head hurt. He wanted nothing more than to get home to you and listen to your voice. You never bored him or wasted his time.
It was quiet when the door opened, which wasn’t uncommon, but something was wrong...it was too quiet, the silence bouncing off the walls.
“Carina? Mi Vida? Where are you querida?” He felt panicked, a gnawing sensation that made him want to dig deep into his chest and pull it out.
He passed the counter, stopping to see the brightly colored envelope placed so nicely on top of it, accompanied by glitter and confetti scraps. It angered him to think how violently they had probably taken you. Bane grabbed the letter and tore it open, reading quickly, feeling his blood boil. How dare someone take you from him, from his own home!
Bane needed nothing but the address provided. Whoever had stolen you needed more than hope and prayers. He wouldn't show forgiveness...how quickly sentences were carried out would depend on the state you were in when he found you.
He made his way quickly to your location, wasting little time. And broke down the door at the back of the abandoned factory. Stalking through he stopped once he saw the bodies of goons scattered around you. You looked exhausted, bloodied, and dirty, stumbling around as a voice cheered from somewhere.
He ran over to you, the heavy sound of his boots scaring you as you turned around quickly with a rusty pipe swinging. He caught it with one hand, slowly lowering it, looking you over, “oh, Mi Vida…” he said softly as you looked on the verge of tears, or possibly collapse.
There was a small cut on your cheek and upper arm, your knuckles looked black and blue and were caked with blood. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were red, you looked so scared and he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and take you away.
But he was proud of you, you had taken out so many goons on your own, with your wits and strength, it filled him with a weird feeling...although he always knew you were strong, it made him sickened with grief and anger that you had to go through this.
That he hadn't been there to protect you.
“Who did this to you? Who took you?”
There was a voice and another and he could hear the scuffling of feet running away. He perked up, scoping out the area. He wanted to run after them, but what would he do with you? He couldn’t bear to leave you alone again or bring you into more danger.
You looked so tired, roughed up, but he still found you adorable and gorgeous. You were strong...even when that was his job. It made his heart swell even more for you. He took your hands into his, kissing your knuckles tenderly.
He then scooped you up into his arms, taking you with him to find your kidnappers. He wouldn’t let them get away...get away to hurt you again, take up space in your mind or his with worry. He didn’t want you in harm's way, but you’d be safer with him than away, that had been proven.
Bane quickly tracked down the room your kidnappers had run off to, the door was barricaded shut, and he could hear whispering inside. How predictable.
He set you down to the side, kissing your forehead before quickly taking a boot to the door, knocking it in instantly. He stalked into the room, taking up every inch of space. His demeanor was calm, but the veins in his neck bulged.
Your two kidnappers sat huddled in the corner, giggling, out of nerves or fear he couldn’t tell, and that irritated him more. How dare they treat your pain and suffering as a joke...as a game. Even if you had proved yourself, he wasn’t willing to gamble your life anymore.
For a man his size his speed was alarmingly swift, he grabbed the pair by their throats, bringing them to his face, “Cobarde, you come into my home, hurt Mi Amor, and have the gall to make jokes? I should end your life slowly and painfully. You should feel her pain, her suffering...but I am in no mood to waste my strength as she did in your game.”
You could hear sharp breaths, then a sickening crunch. Bane dropped the bodies to the floor and then came back to where you waited.
“I’m sorry for not protecting you, and I’m sorry for my actions now,” he kissed your forehead again, thumb on your cheek, “let us go. I look forward to your tale of bravery.”
Deathstroke/Slade Wilson:
Slade groaned, rolling over to pull you closer to him, he liked having you near. You calmed him, and he wasn’t around often, so he wanted to make up for his absence.
His arm roamed around, searching for you, but instead he felt your spot was warm...and wet?
He bolted upright, his arm covered in the all too familiar feeling of blood. He could suddenly smell smoke and there was no denying you were gone, “fuck!” Who could've gotten in here without his knowledge?
He ran for the door, slipping into a pair of boots next to the entrance, not bothering to put on a shirt, his pants would do, besides he had to get to you...that’s when he saw the note stapled to the door.
“A ransom letter? Cute,” he crumpled up the letter with his hand, as if that would be enough to relieve his anger.
He slung his favorite rifle and guns over his shoulders and into their holsters, then grabbed a knife and Kitana. You weren’t far according to the letter, but he wasn’t in the mood to play games with these punks.
It enraged him that he couldn’t wake up to your pretty face, spend time with you on his chest caressing your face. It irritated him how his instincts had failed him. Failed to sense you in danger and strangers in his home!
Slade grumbled as he made his way to you, anyone bothering to come up to him swiftly meeting the curb or wall, he would simply shoot them for their inconvenience, but he couldn’t be messy.
He came to the building, slinking around the back and up a fire escape. He looked down through the window, looking for you to be tied to a chair or hung up for him to see, but instead a small smirk graced his lips.
You stood in the middle of a ring of bodies strewn all over. It made him relieved that you didn’t look too hurt, but also proud.
He crashed down through the window, and you jumped a little bit, before turning instinctively with a gun raised...one of his. He smirked at the blood dotted along your cheeks and lips. Your poor knuckles and the hilt of the gun also covered, the blood doing little to hide the bruises forming.
He couldn’t deny he was slightly turned on, but he put a finger to the gun’s barrel, knowing no ammo was left (since you used the hilt as a hammer), pushing it away so he could look at you. You looked terrified, as if you didn’t know you were capable, or maybe couldn’t believe what you had just done.
“Hey Babydoll,” he practically purred, pulling you close to him by the waist, “who taught you to do all this?”
You didn’t answer, but he knew. He hugged you tightly to himself, rubbing circles on your back to try and calm your trembling form.
He was still mad, he was imagining what he would do to the bastard in charge, whoever took you, but he knew to stay calm for your sake.
“Hmm, Baby, let me take you home, clean you up. You did so good, but I can’t have you around for the finale,” He kissed the top of your head, a sick grin on his face.
You stood firmly, knowing the leader was watching you from nearby. Scared if he left you alone so soon, they would just come back. Slade understood, or maybe he was still awestruck by you, “Very well.”
You walked beside him as he stalked towards the corner, he knew the leader was hiding, from you or him, it was a little hard to tell.
Slade’s eyes seemed to gleam, and his teeth flashed a predatory grin as he ripped the door off the hinges, uncovering a cowering man. He smirked as the man looked between the two of you, inspecting the blood on you and the composed anger spreading across Slade’s demeanor. He had no weapon, or maybe he had dropped it.
Slade picked the man up by the neck, grinning as he grabbed his knife with the other, he growled into the man’s face, “you come into my home, you take my lady...bruise her up and traumatize her, and for what? To send a message? Try and get under my skin? Hurt her?!”
He tutted and the man squirmed and choked. Slade squeezed tighter with each syllable, bringing the knife to his chest and slicing down, “No one. Hurts. What’s mine. And gets away.”
The man shouted and you looked away quickly as Slade dropped the body to the ground. He turned to you and moved so suave for a man who's bare chest was now covered in blood. A man who had just murdered your kidnapper so easily.
He kissed the top of your head, his hand finding the small of your back to guide you outside, “Let’s go home, Doll.”
TwoFace:
Harvey exited the shower, pissed off that his goons had been making so much noise. What could they have possibly been doing? He already hated how the water felt on his bad side, and the fact he couldn’t relax paired with the noise...he wanted to shoot one of them and make a point.
But he had promised you a little movie night, and was excited to jump into bed with you and see what you had planned. Whatever they had done could wait until morning.
Harvey wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out into his large bedroom to find it absolutely wrecked...well more than it already had been from previous outbursts and its age.
“Sweetheart?” he asked, feeling sick to his stomach as he ran over to the bed.
Pillows were on the ground, feathers bursting from them and falling around the room like snow. There was wine staining the carpet while a tray of treats was strewn all over the bed. The TV and windows were smashed, the blankets crumpled all over, and DVD’s and Records were broken or sticking out of the walls.
There was no doubt this is what he had been hearing. But wouldn’t it have been louder? He didn’t have time to think about the legitimacies of the whole thing, you were gone! Your perfect night ruined...still a small black envelope caught his eye on a pile of white feathers.
He crumpled up the note, anger taking over him. TwoFace quickly dressed and grabbed his best guns, no need to ask the coin, for once he knew exactly what he wanted to do, but often when it came to you he didn’t feel compelled by the coin.
He made his way quickly to the abandoned warehouse you were in, looking for the nicest part, no doubt in an old office within it. He hoped you weren’t injured or at worst mangled, it would be his fault for being so negligent, and there was a part in his split brain that kept asking why he didn’t hear you or the room be trashed louder.
There were a few stray guards posted around that he quickly took care of, a smile of satisfaction on the corner of his lips as the barrels unloaded, but he still needed to find you before he could feel relief.
TwoFace could hear gunfire and shouting in a room towards the end of the hall. He came to a set of doors and kicked it open, finding sets of bodies laid around the small office. There he saw you turn a gun towards him while keeping another one raised toward the desk in the corner. You seemed to relax and finally breathe as you ran over to him almost collapsing.
He holstered his guns and took you into his arms, you looked exhausted, bruises on your arms and your knuckles were cracked from your fight.
“Doll what’s wrong? What happened, who took you?” he was angry, but Harvey’s hands on your face were gentle as he looked over your injuries, before the guns in your hands. “Are those my guns?”
You smiled softly, apologizing for the blood on them. But he could care less, at least in a way he was there to protect you. He’d get you cleaned up later, and the guns. He kissed your forehead, “my little sharpshooter.”
He then took his guns out again, nudging you to get behind him. You hadn’t been shot or killed yet and he wasn’t taking the risk as he moved over to the desk he assumed your kidnapper was hiding under.
He shot at the desk and then at the wall, his teeth gritted and voice pained, “come on out coward, so I can blow your brains out properly.”
“You’ve gone soft,” the man said standing up slowly, hands raised sheepishly, the tone in his voice sly but shaky, “she’s soft too. Say, why is she with a freak like you? Hmm?”
Had he planned to hold you as a ransom? What for? Did he not know what he would do?
You watched Harvey raise his gun with practiced precision, knowing his shot would kill. He wasn’t in the mood for games or talking. He was angry that you were kidnapped, he was angry at himself for his lack of awareness and care, and he was irritated anyone would use you as ransom and bait and not think there would be consequences.
He heard the man breathe, no doubt ready to make another sick remark about you. Harv’s teeth were gritted as he fired a single shot at the man, spraying his brains onto the wall behind him. But he couldn't stop, he unloaded the barrel of his first gun and then the second, shooting every spot this man had left bruises on you and ones he couldn’t see just yet.
Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, turning to you, a smile on his face. He holstered his guns and wrapped an arm around your waist, leading you out of the room of bodies, “Let’s finish our movie night BabyDoll. I’m thinking a comedy. How does that sound?”
