“What if we were a power couple?” Chat asks, breaking a few twigs he gathered on his solo patrol.
Marinette snorts. “We’d have to be dating for that to happen.”
“But think about it, M,” Chat grins, tossing a few pieces into a coffee tin between them as they sit on the floor of her terrace. Flames lick the edges of the can, casting out the barest bits of warmth to the both them. “We could have a celebrity nickname, like Ladrien.”
She scoffs, burrowing deeper into the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She pokes absently with her metal skewer at a bag filled with marshmallows. “They’d have to be dating for that to be true.” Marinette sniffs, a cloud of white mist bursting from her lips with every word. She shivers and gives Chat a passing glare that says she blames him for being outside in the middle of winter.
“How do you know they’re not?” Chat waggles his brows, his mask reaching so high she loses the top part of his mask to his messy hair.
“How do you know they are?” She shoots back, throwing a marshmallow at him. He catches it easily and pops it into his mouth. She grabs another marshmallow and squishes it lightly between her fingers. Of course, Marinette knows whether or not Adrien, the love of her life, is dating her alter ego, Ladybug. She would be in a perpetual state of terrified giddiness that she’d probably be throwing up every five seconds. There would have been hours of her just ranting to Tikki about complicating her life, how could she do this to the both of them, what about her identity, what about Chat?
None of that happened. Marinette would have remembered the rants.
“Ow!” She sticks her finger into her mouth, sucking at her injured appendage. She glares at the metal skewer in her other hand, the marshmallow she was pushing onto it is a couple of inches in away from the point.
“You alright there, Princess?” Chat furrows his brows, concerned.
“Fine,” She sighs, dropping her free hand to her lap. She twists the marshmallow over the small flame, trying to get it perfectly brown without setting it on fire.
Chat is silent for a three count before another skewer joins hers with two marshmallows. He dips his small square of fluff a little closer to the flame, occasionally turning it in his hand, unlike Marinette-whose skewer turns like a rotisserie.
“What if we were a celebrity couple?” Chat tries again. Marinette has laser locked her focus to her marshmallow; she can’t concentrate on anything but perfection. Chat’s marshmallows catch fire, causing Marinette to pull hers a little farther away from the flame. “What do you think our name would be?”
“Chatinette,” Marinette answers automatically, removing her prize from the flame. She grabs two chocolate chip cookies from a plate and sandwiches the marshmallow between them and slides the skewer out. She smiles triumphantly as white fluff oozes at the edges. A perfect toasted marshmallow.
“Oh,” Chat grins, sliding one burnt marshmallow off his skewer before popping it into his mouth. “You’ve thought about this.”
Marinette stiffens and then glares. “No comment.” She says tersely.
“Personally, I like Marichat better. It has a better ring. Also, it lets people know I always put my ladies first.”
“Is that so?” Marinette leans back, feeling herself grin with a challenge. “What if you were a power couple with Ladybug? What would your couple name be?”
“That’s easy, Chatbug.” He adds another marshmallow to the fire, holding it a little higher than the flames. “Short, simple, and to the point.”
“What happened to putting ladies first? There’s even a ‘Lady’ in her name!” Marinette laughs through a bite of her cookie sandwich. “What’s wrong with Ladynoir?”
Chat’s ears flatten against his head, and he hunches a little, his sweet catching flame again. “What’s wrong with Ladynoir?” Marinette repeats, softer this time and more concerned.
“Don’t get my hopes up, Princess.” Chat murmurs over the crackling fire. “It sounds too nice.” He watches the marshmallow burn and doesn’t try to blow it out. “Ladynoir sounds too good to be true, you know?” He shrugs, lifting the flaming skewer to gesture with his hands. The fire blows out in a moment. “It’s like a Nigerian prince scam. I’ll be robbed blind if I listen to it.”
“That’s not true.” Marinette tries to comfort him, but she’s unsure what to say. How can she tell him her heart has been wavering? How can she say that with every visit she finds her heart and her stutters moving to a different blonde-haired green-eyed boy? How can she say she’s Ladybug and Ladynoir might really be a thing?
Ugh. Even that doesn’t sound right to Marinette’s mind. Why does Ladybug get to have Chat Noir? Why can’t Marinette?
Reason bites back at her: You are Ladybug.
It’s a true statement, but it’s not Ladybug who’s sharing this moment. It’s not Ladybug that listens to Chat talk about anything and everything. It’s not the heroine that toasts marshmallows with her favorite feline on a rooftop. It’s not the moments Chat spends with Ladybug that wavers her heart; it’s time with Marinette.
Right now, she wants a different power couple to be a thing.
“For the record,” She starts, prepping another marshmallow for toasting, determined to make Chat the perfect cookie s’more. “I think Marichat is way better.”
Also, I used Alya’s nickname for Marinette from the Gamer episode. I like it better than Mari because Mari = Husband in French.
can i request an archie imagine (female pronouns please) where you’re a writer (blue and gold journalist but also write your own stuff) and are supposed to write an article about the football team so you go to the practice but end up with ramblings about archie and you accidentally leave a poem and archie finds it and talks to you and admits he’s into you as well :)) thanks so much in advance
First off, I’m sorry it’s so short. Secondly, I hope you like my cringe-worthy poetic writing!
“You can interview my players after their practice, just wait in the bleachers for now.” You nodded, “thanks Coach Clayton.” You turned around and walked towards the bleachers. You itched to just go home to write something for yourself, but since Betty had convinced you to write for the Blue and Gold, you had obligations. You sat on the cool metal seats, adjusting your bag and clicking you pen. The players made their way on to the track, starting to run their warm-up laps. Your eyes scanned the group until your gaze landed on a familiar head of red hair.
You scribbled on your note pad : Archie Andrews Rising Star. You’d heard the talk in the hallways about this ginger boy. He had everything going for him, not just in his football career. You couldn’t help but admit he was a stand-up guy, just with the number of times you’d talked to him. He was very sweet, so sweet in fact, that you had taken a little liking towards him. So you felt butterflies in your tummy at the thought of speaking to him again. You watched him run the track and the second time around he noticed you sitting in the bleachers. He waved at you and your returned the kind gesture, happy he couldn’t see your blush.
You busied yourself with writing small phrases that turned into a small poem. As you finished the last stanza of the poem, you heard the coach's’ whistle sound. You ripped out the poem, shoving it in your back pocket. You walked down the steps and toward the football players, Archie more specifically. “Hey, Archie, would you be willing to be interviewed for the Blue and Gold?” He smiled at you, “Of course,Y/N, anything for you.” You felt your cheeks grow warm at his reply. You proceeded to ask him the questions that you and Betty made together. He gave solid answers, supporting the team’s reputation while also being himself.
“Thanks Archie, I think that’s all I need from you,” you said, smiling and you noticed he was too. “By the way, the article will be adequately titled, Archie Andrews : Rising Star.” He let out a laugh, probably just to pity you. “How have you been, Y/N,” he asked, “since summer?” You paused, studying his handsome face. “I’ve been better, what about you?” He shrugged, “it’s just a little weird now,” he gestured to his jersey; His jersey with Jason’s number on it. You nodded, “I can’t imagine what it’s like being compared to Jason.” He frowned and you saved yourself, “you’re so different, but in the greatest way possible.” He nodded and looked back up at you. “So what did you do over summer?” You scoffed, “absolutely nothing.” He smiled a little, “not even a boyfriend to keep you busy?”
You swallowed hard, “uh no,” you replied and Archie seemed to realize that he overstepped your comfort. “Sorry,” he said, “it’s just hard to believe that a pretty girl like yourself is single.” You felt nerves crawl over your whole body. You needed to leave before you said something stupid. You looked down at your watch and sighed. “Well I gotta go, see ya Archie,” you spun on your heels and fast walked away. “Y/N, wait,” you heard his voice but your just kept going.
Archie watched as you walked away. He had messed up, that much was clear. He bent down to pick up the piece of paper that had slipped out of your pocket. He didn’t call out to you again, seeing as you were farther away now. He unfolded the paper and read what you had written.
A.A. - Rising Star
Amidst the darkness of pain and regret,
There stands a star in the field,
Alone among the wreckage
Who burns like the end of a cigarette.
Tousled flames burns too bright,
As the rising star ascends
Into the unforgiving skies,
Blinding those who fear the light.
Of this time of heartache and pain,
It’s lovely to see such a handsomely
Strong star that burns so high
It can still breath light amidst the rain.
Archie flashed back to your conversation and made the connection. You wrote this poem about him. Was he really this great, as your poem made him out to be? He folded the paper back up, shoving it into his pocket. He walked over to where his dad normally picks him up with a smile; maybe there was a chance you liked him too.
You closed the door to the News Room around 4pm. You had stayed after school with most of the editing team, which was just you, Betty, and Jughead, to put the final touches on the school paper. Now, you could finally go home and focus on your own writings. You walked over to your locker, opening it to grab your jacket.
“Hey, Y/N!” You turned and saw Archie, walking towards you with a piece of paper in his hands. You instantly recognized the mismatched folding as the poem you wrote while watching Archie at football practice. He held it out to you, his brown eyes bright with excitement. “Is this about me,” he asked, and you just nodded. “You’re a star in everyone’s eyes,” you said, trying to brush over the obvious. He just stared at you with a raised eyebrow. “The last stanza,” he murmured, and you felt the warm his skin radiated due to his closeness. You nodded, “I added some flourishes.”
“Is that all that is?” You bit your lip, looking away from him momentarily. “No, that’s not all they are.” He smiled, and leaned towards you, “in that case, you’re a very pretty star.” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked into his eyes. He leaned down towards you, cupping your face with his hand. His lips brushed yours in question, which you answered with a full kiss. Galaxies exploded behind your eyes as it hit you that your were kissing Archie Andrews; your crush since Freshmen year. He pulled away from you slowly, a boyish grin played on his red lips. “I’ll see you at the big game, right Starshine,” he asked teasingly. You nodded with a smile, “of course, I’ll see you there Andrews.” With that, Archie turned around and left, smiling as he did. You shut your locker and turned the other way, but stopped when you say Betty and Jughead staring at you. “Really? Starshine?” Jughead asked, trying to mimic the way Archie said your nickname. You just smiled at the thought of your star.
Request: Can you do one where literally everyone on the Team and the Justice League knows that the reader and Damian like each other, except them. So everyone teams up to get them together? Summary: When you’re kidnapped and in danger, Damian will do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe, even if it’s just a set up… Word Count: 1224
The Teen Titans’ tower was quiet as you searched for any of the other occupants. After almost an hour of looking, you resigned yourself to a day by yourself and relaxed on the large plush sofa. You were zoned out watching trash television when someone grabbed you from behind. They yanked you up over the back of the sofa and put a black bag over your head before you could even turn around. You struggled wildly, thrashing your arms and legs trying to connect them to your attacker at any point. The person who had a hold on you was good though. They evaded every hit with expertise and managed to get an arm around your neck. With all of your panic and struggling, the constricted windpipe quickly caused your brain to swirl and you passed out within a few seconds. The assailant carried your now limp body to the aircraft they had parked on the roof. You didn’t wake up until they were tightening the ropes around your wrists.
You were tied to a chair, from the coolness you felt through your clothing, you could tell it was a metal chair. The black bag over your head had been replaced with a black blindfold and a gag. You groaned and tugged against your restraints uselessly.
“The Titans won’t save you this time, (Y/h/n),” a deep sinister robotic voice spoke from somewhere to your left. You frowned and regretted not wearing your uniform. You had no communicator, no utility belt, and no hope of escaping this chair.
Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Damian, Jaime, Raven and Kori were returning from the grocery store. Garfield wasn’t far behind, shifted into a pack mule as he was loaded down with shopping bags. Together they were able to put everything away in a matter of minutes.
“I’m going to check on (Y/n),” Damian excused himself as he left the room. He ignored the chuckle he heard come from Starfire. He took the elevator to the floor that held the team’s rooms. The doors were unmarked, but he had long ago memorized which door led to your room. He knocked as he stood in front of it. When he received no answer, he knocked again before trying the door knob. As always, it was unlocked. He pushed the door open and was disappointed to see that your room was unoccupied.
He spent almost fifteen minutes searching your usual spots in the tower before he opened his tracking device. He frowned when he saw the dot designated to you glowing far outside of the Tower.
“What’s going on, Damian? Where’s (Y/n)?” Raven asked calmly. Damian was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the smile Garfield was trying his best to smooth out.
“(Y/n) is not here. Her tracking device says she’s about ten miles from here in the warehouse district,” he answered. “Something is not right,” he added.
“You don’t think she’s in trouble, do you?” Garfield asked and concealed a chuckled as a cough.
“Of course not!” He scoffed. “(Y/n) is completely capable to take care of herself,” he explained. He looked back at the dot and worry crossed his features.
“It wouldn’t hurt to see what she’s up to though, would it?” Raven asked. He considered her question for a moment before nodding.
“No it wouldn’t do any harm. This way we know for sure she’s not meeting with our enemies or anything,” he stated as he put the tracking device back in his pocket before heading to his room to change into his uniform.
“(Y/n) would never betray us,” Garfield said with sincerity.
“We’ll see,” Damian said coolly, but deep down he was worried that’s exactly what you were doing. He had seen you train and knew you were more than able to defend yourself, so what other explanation was there? He changed quickly, as did the rest of the team and they took off to her very stationary location. As they got closer, Damian began to worry about what they might be walking into.
They team gathered on the rooftop of the warehouse she was supposed to be inside. Starfire looked the most concerned about the situation.
“Blue, what does the security look like?” she asked. Jaime scanned the area.
“Several hostiles are guarding the area. They also have an alarm system. If anyone opens the doors or windows, they’re going to know about it,” he explained. He was actually impressed with the lengths they had gone to accomplish this.
“Then we’ll have to go in ready,” Damian concluded. “We can assume that whoever has the ability to take (Y/n) hostage is armed and dangerous,” he continued.
“Should we call in the Justice League?” Starfire asked with concern.
“Not yet,” Damian shook his head. “We should be able to handle this and get her out safely,” he added. He clenched his jaw at the idea that they had hurt her. If they had caused her any pain, he would make them pay. The team went over Damian’s strategy a few times before they set the plan into action.
Blue Beetle blasted the front door off its hinges. The team entered and almost immediately Starfire was taken down. She hit the floor, but Damian couldn’t stop as he saw you tied to a chair in the center of the room. He blatantly ignored the fighting around him as he cut his way through to you.
When he made it to your side, the entire team was on the floor. He pulled the blindfold from your eyes and the gag from your mouth moments after cutting the ropes around your wrist. You were so overjoyed to see him after the hours of darkness. You through your arms around him tightly. He pulled back slightly and looked down at your face. Without a second thought, he pressed his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss.
The kiss would’ve lasted much longer had applause not erupted from around the warehouse. Damian pulled back and looked around threateningly, but relaxed when he saw only the team smiling and clapping.
“What is going on?” he demanded angrily.
“Damian, this was the only way we could figure out to get you two together,” Kori explained as she walked forward. “We all knew that you cared for each other,” she admitted. Your cheeks turned bright pink as you recalled the conversation when you admitted to Kori and Raven that you liked Damian.
“You went through all this trouble to set us up?” Damian frowned. His arms were still tightly around you, almost as if he refused to let you go now that he had you.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Dick Grayson spoke up from where he had been hiding only a few moments earlier. Damian’s frown deepened.
“Grayson, you were in on this?” he asked.
“I knew it!” you called out. “No one else could’ve gotten the drop on me like that,” you admitted.
“Exactly,” he chuckled. He held up a small circular device to his mouth. “No harm, no one was hurt,” he spoke in the robotic voice. Damian just shook his head.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” he asked you. You couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your lips.
“I would love to,” you answered.
A/N: I hope you like it! I had some fun trying to think up the plot!
longtime EFOTD fave anniebukhman (fka giftshopbrooklyn) has my heart … and my leather goods wallet share ;) i absolutely love her clean aesthetic and high-quality craftswomanship, and i think i need to get my paws on more of these shining, supple ladies for my aviators and lip gloss and such.
A request from @lazinessisalliknow
I hope this is what you were looking for. I don’t usually write smut but here it is a joker smut.
“Hey!” Your friend called over the music “We’re going now! Emily is about dead!”
You had another shot and turned to look at her “Don’t be a party pooper!” you yelled “I want to drink more!”
“We’re going hun! See you later” She turned with Emily slumped on her shoulder and walked out the club.
You turned and looked at the dance floor with a huge grin on your face. You knocked on the bar behind you and a shot came flying down the bar to you. It was helpful when your old man ran this bar. Hopefully one day it would be yours. You started to walk into the middle of the dance floor. People cleared the way so you could get through. You started to sway your hips to the music. You closed your eyes and let the music and alcohol take over.
All of a sudden you felt a man’s hand grab hold of your arse. You snapped your eyes open to see this vile bald bruiser looking dude. “Hello beautiful.” He smiled at you.
“Ermm no” You moved his hand off you and started to walk off.
However this man wasn’t taking a no from you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his body. You tried wriggle free but his arms where too strong. You spun around in his arms and smiled sweetly. You stroked the side of his face making him think you wanted him. He slowly released his grip just enough so you could pull your mini handgun from your bra. You shot him from under the chin. Blood splattered everywhere. The whole club stopped and watched the man fall to the floor.
“y/n!” you heard your father’s voice from the balcony above you.
“Yes daddy” You smiled like you were the most perfect angel.
“I think it’s time you go home sweety”
“But dad he-“ he cut you off.
“No, go home” he turned his back to you so you couldn’t continue.
You looked down at the body and kicked it lightly “Asshole” you walked over to the doors, everyone parting like the red Sea.
“Night miss” the bouncer nodded to you.
You held onto the wall next to him to take your heels off “Night Rocco!” you waved your hand and started to walk down the street.
After 10 minutes of walking you realised how much you needed to pee. Home was at least 15 minutes away and running with no shoes on was not an option. You stopped by an alley way and looked up and down the street. Luckily it was clear. You snook down the alley and crouched down by a dumpster. You did a big sigh of relief.
You stood back up and hitched your dress back down. As you walked over to your bag and heels to pick it back up you felt a hand wrap around your hair. Before you do anything they yanked you back and held a gun to your head.
You laughed slightly “A gun? Wow gotham thieves have gone up in the world?” You could hear the man growl in your ear but did say anything “Ermm do you know who I am?”
He took a deep breath in “I know exactly who you are” his voice sent chills down your spine. You recognised his voice but you weren’t sure why.
“What do you want then?”
“Your pretty little head” he breathed in your ear. You had no idea why but his voice was stirring some odd feelings in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and snaked round your neck till he grabbed hold of it. An involuntary moan escaped your lips.
He spun you around to face his and your heart dropped to your stomach. There he was, the bright red lips, the crisp silver suit, the shining grillz, the bright green hair. You only ever fantasised about meeting the joker. You never thought this day would come. You were breathing so heavy into his face.
A growl came deep from his chest “Mmhh you’re even prettier up close” he whispered.
“Oh my god” you managed to breathe out you’re body shook under his grasp “Are you gonna kill me?”
“Mmhh I was….” he turned his head slightly and breathed in “but you might make a perfect new play thing.”
All of a sudden a car screeched to a holt infront of the alley way. He spun you around and pushed you towards the car still with his hand around the back of your neck. A man got out the car and opened the back door for you. Joker pushed you onto the back seats. Your dress rode up showing a glimpse of your knife you kept in a garter on your thigh. It was custom made, a present from your now dead mother.
Joker snatched it from your leg cutting you slightly “Pretty” he smiled holding it up in the air. You tried to kick him to get your knife. But he punched you in the face knocking you clean out.
You woke up in a cold dark room. Your wrists were tied around your back with cable ties and your feet were tied to the chair. ‘ammatures’ you laughed to yourself. You twisted your wrists and pulled hard. The ties snapped easily. Your feet were even easier. All you needed to do was slide the ties off the chair legs. You were free in under a minute. You stood up and brushed yourself off. Your new dress was ruined. At least it was black.
You looked around the room the only thing in there was a table with your hand bag on, which looked like medical stuff was kept on it and a big metal door. You went to your bag and emptied it on the table. Your gun, phone and keys were gone. Luckily they left your hip flask, smokes, lighter and makeup. You got you little mirror and tried your hardest to sort your face out. You wanted to look your best or as best you could for the one and only Joker.
Once you had done you put all your stuff back in your bag. You sat on the table dangling you legs over the edge. You had a couple of sips of your whiskey and lit a smoke.
You started to whistle to yourself when you heard keys enter the metal door. Your heart started to race. Two men with guns stepped in, you were rather disappointed.
“She’s free!” one of the men shouted behind him.
Three more men charged in. You looked down at your nails and sighed. You hopped off the table and raised your fists. Two of the men run at you. You take them both down quickly. The first you avoided his punches and broke his neck with your hands. The second you grab his gun, jump onto the table, leap down and shoot him in the head. You land on the floor and flip your hair out of your face.
Two more run at you. You grabbed both of their arms, spin them around and smash their heads together. Both fell to floor at your feet.
“What the fuck!” the last man shouted.
You smiled as you raised a gun to him “What’s wrong? Joker not tell you who I am?” You laughed and shot him in the head.
You stopped and breathed out. It had been so long since your last fight. Your farther, a well known mob boss, forced you to train because you were a kidnapping target your whole life. You’re pretty sure you had been taken at least 10 times and you weren’t exactly old.
A deep laugh came from the darkness in the open door. “I’m impressed.” The jokers voice sent chills down your spine. You couldn’t move.
He stepped out the dark and walked towards you. He placed his hand at the small of your back and pulled you into his body. You could feel your heart through your whole body. He pressed your knife against your cheek. “I like you” he smiled again making your stomach do back flips.
With out another thought you grabbed hold of his jacket and pulled him into you kissing him real hard. The knife pressed into you cheeky, blood poured down your face. Joker pushed you back breathing heavy. “You’re crazier than I thought” he looked you up and down before he grabbed hold of your arm and pulled you into his body again. He angrily pressed his lips against yours. He slithered his tongue into your mouth and your tongues started to fight for dominance.
He got his right hand and grabbed your arse harshly. You let out moan into his lips. He smiled into your kiss. He pulled your hair back causing your head to jerk back. “I hope you know I will not be gentle.”
You smiled with your head still back “Gentle is for pussys”
He licked his lips and launched them onto your neck. Sucking and biting making sure he’d leave marks.
“Fuck me!” you breathed out.
He laughed at you “With pleasure doll” He threw you face first against the cold metal table. Your bag and all its contents spilled across the floor. He lifted you dress exposing your arse with nice lace panties on. “We won’t be needing these” he growled and ripped them clean off.
You could feel your self dripping down leg from how wet he was making you.
Joker was not playing around tonight, he wanted you there and then. He pulled his trousers and boxers down, his dick sprung free. He gripped it and stroked it down your slit. “Damn doll” he purred.
“all for you…. daddy”
On that word he rammed his dick into so hard you squealed. He didn’t care if you needed time to adjust. He started to slam himself into you over and over.
His dick was so big you couldn’t help but scream. The more he pounded you the louder you got. “Fuck! J!” you shouted.
“that’s right baby. Shout my name!” he put his hand inbetween your shoulder blades and pushed you even further onto the cold hard table.
“Oh mistah J!” you could feel the heat building up in your stomach as he hit your spot over and over.
He grabbed your hair and pulled you back against his chest. “Cum for me”
He carried on fucking you into oblivion till your vision started to get blurry. “Holy. Shit!” you managed to get out between breaths. The wave of pleasure took over your whole body.
As you started to come down from your high J started to fuck you faster and harder. His breath picked up. “Oh fuck y/n!” That was the first time he said your name. His body shook as he came into you calling your name. He stroked his hand down your back feeling the light film of sweat the formed on your body. He stepped back and pulled out of you.
You stood up, pulled your dress down and picked up your smokes that had fallen. You lit one and smiled at him.
He stepped closer and put his hand over your mouth “You..” He whispered “You belong to me now”
You blew smoke out behind his hand so he would remove it “Fine by me” You winked “but my farther may have something to say about it”
He laughed at you again “Oswald Cobblepot is not a threat to me”