#if he needs to get one in he’ll just do it

[kxsagi]

imagine the blue lock boys as dads seeing their children with plushie versions of themselves.

like the boys have just woken up or come home and their young kids are all over this giant plushie of their dad, and its like the same size as their kid too.

the babies just missed their dad 🩵🤭

“𝐬𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐞”

a/n: alternated between boy and girl toddlers depending on which one i thought suited them best!

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

he’s barely taken two steps into the house before his suitcase slips out of his hand. 

he’s exhausted, bags under his eyes, hair a mess, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed or maybe your arms, whichever one’s closer. 

but then he sees it. 

on the living room rug, bathed in soft morning light, is your toddler in a tiny blue jersey snuggled up on top of a nearly life-size plushie of him. it has the same blue eyes, ahoge, and even stitched-in messy black hair. 

isagi’s heart does a triple backflip. 

he doesn’t even say anything. he just crouches down slowly, wide-eyed, mouth parted like he’s seeing a miracle. 

his son looks up blearily, rubbing his face into the plush. 

“daddy…?” he mumbles sleepily, blinking at him like he’s a dream. “you came home…” 

his voice cracks. “yeah… yeah, i’m home.” 

then he gently scoops him up, still tangled with the plush, and holds him like he’s afraid he’ll disappear. 

later, he sits on the couch holding both his sleeping child and the plush and quietly asks you, “where’d you get this… and do they make me in travel size?” 

itoshi rin

rin’s still in a half-zombie state, hair unbrushed and hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, when he walks into the living room and just… stops. 

his brain is buffering. 

because there’s his child, kneeling on a giant plush version of him, using its face for makeup practice. 

“daddy, you’re so pretty!” 

the plushie, now with blush and messy lipstick, has his exact flat expression stitched on. 

he blinks once. twice. “… what the hell is that.” 

“it’s you!” your daughter yells, grinning. “but softer!” 

you’re trying so hard not to laugh from the kitchen. 

rin glares at you, then glares at plushie-rin like it personally insulted him. 

his toddler slides down, toddles up, and wraps her arms around his legs with a pout. “you were gone so i used fake-you. but real-you is warm, too…” 

his face crumbles. he picks her up instantly, muttering something like, “you don’t need that fake one. i’m real and better.” 

but that night you catch him curled up next to both the baby and the plush on the couch… fast asleep, arms around both of them like a grumpy cat with too many feelings. 

itoshi sae

sae opens the front door, tosses his keys on the counter, and fully expects the usual: you cleaning around the house, the toddler trying to feed the fish crayons, something normal. 

but instead he finds his child absolutely sprawled out across a plush version of him, limbs tangled with the thing like a koala. 

“... are you serious right now,” he mumbles. 

the plush even has his crooked ahh bangs and bored stare. it’s wearing one of his old jerseys. 

the kid looks up and beams. “fake papa kept me company!” 

“... fake what?” 

“he’s so squishy,” his daughter says, patting its chest. “but not as squishy as real papa!” 

she leaps at him like a flying squirrel and he catches her with a soft “oof.” 

after a few moments of silence, sae glances at you. 

“… did you commission this? did you bribe our daughter into replacing me?” 

he pretends to sulk, but later you find him napping on the couch with the plush under his arm and your toddler tucked into his side. 

he doesn’t let you bring the plush to family events, though. “i’m the real deal. they can meet me in person.” 

kaiser michael

he walks out of the bedroom shirtless, yawning and dramatically scratching his abs, only to stop mid-stretch. 

“what the hell…” 

in the middle of your living room, his toddler is standing on the shoulders of a life-size kaiser plushie like she’s posing for a music video. 

it has everything – his smirk, his stupid little eyebrow slit, even a tiny gold crown. 

“i am… baby daddy,” she announces. “king of the house!” 

kaiser puts his hands on his hips. “hey, i didn’t retire. i still live here, you know.” 

your toddler gasps. “the real one? you’re alive?!” 

he fake-sobs. “replaced by my own child… betrayed…” 

you roll your eyes as he dramatically throws himself onto the floor. your daughter giggles and pounces on him instead of the plush. 

he’s smug about it for days. starts using the plush to teach the baby “cool” poses. 

you overhear him muttering one night: “maybe i do look good in plush form…” 

bachira meguru

bachira sprints out of the hallway the second he hears his kid yell, “BEEEEE PAPA!!!” 

he thinks something’s wrong. 

nope. he walks in and finds his toddler straddling a massive plushie version of him, holding toy paintbrushes and doodling little smiley faces on its cheeks. 

the plush has his chaotic hair and the stitched-on goofy grin. 

“look, papa! now there’s two of you! double bees!” 

he clutches his chest. “two of me?! i’ve always wanted a twin!” 

the boy giggles, and bachira plops down next to him, already reaching for glitter glue like he’s not a grown man. 

they spend the next hour giving plush-bachira a makeover while he tells it, “you’re handsome, brother. you’re the prettier twin.” 

you come back to find him asleep next to the plush, your toddler drooling on his chest, and all three covered in stickers. 

he refuses to let you clean it. “it’s a masterpiece. it’s art. leave it forever.” 

mikage reo

there’s a plush version of him – no, a glamorous, smug-faced, model-tier plush version of him – sitting on a beanbag chair. 

his toddler is sitting on its lap like it’s santa claus. 

“dada number two said i’m his favorite.” 

reo blinks. “... he did?” 

you walk in sipping coffee like this is just another thursday. 

“she missed you while you were in meetings,” you say. “so i got her a luxury stand-in.” 

“luxury stand-in?!?” 

he’s laughing but he’s offended. “baby, i’m your real dada!” 

“but plush-dada’s always here…” 

he ends up buying five more just in case one breaks. 

starts calling them “my stand-ins for investor dinners.” 

genuinely considers launching a plush reo merch line for fun. 

poses with both the plush and your toddler for a fake magazine cover titled “rich, soft, and cuddly.” 

chigiri hyoma

he comes home from training sweaty and flushed, untying his hair as he walks in… and stops dead in his tracks when he sees it. 

his child is brushing a giant plush version of him, humming while carefully braiding the strands. 

“so pretty…” she murmurs. “papa’s so pretty…” 

his heart flips over like a pancake. 

he crouches beside his daughter slowly, fingers twitching like he doesn’t want to interrupt the salon session. 

“hey, sweetheart,” he says gently. “what’s all this?” 

“this is fake-papa. he stayed with me while real-papa was kicking the balls.” 

he chokes. “kicking the… yep. that’s right.” 

she presses a kiss to plush-chigiri’s head, then turns and smushes her face into his. “but i missed this one more.” 

he’s instantly scooping her up with a little laugh and a kiss to her temple. 

asks if she’ll braid his real hair next. 

you come back to find your daughter sitting behind him, brushing chigiri’s actual hair while the plush sits beside them like their assistant. 

nagi seishiro

it takes everything in him just to make it back home. 

he’s dragging his feet like a sleep-deprived ghost, hair messy from the flight, phone barely hanging onto 2%. 

“i’m gonna sleep for five days,” he mumbles, pulling open the front door. 

what he doesn’t expect is to see your toddler curled up like a sleepy dumpling on top of a giant plush version of him. like same white hair, same half-lidded sleepy eyes, same slouched posture. the plush is even laying down with its arms open like it’s always ready for a nap. 

your toddler is lying right on its chest, using its stomach as a pillow, cuddled under one of your oversized hoodies like it’s a whole bed. 

nagi stares. blinks. softly says, “... yo.” 

the baby boy lifts his head blearily. “papa?” 

“mhm.” he walks over and flops right down beside them. “who’s this lazy guy?” 

“it’s fake-you,” your son says proudly, clinging to the plush’s arm. “he naps with me when you’re gone.” 

nagi hums. “figures. he looks lazy. just like me.” 

you peek in and see them both lying on the floor – your real baby curled up with two oversized plushies: one soft and fake, one sleepy and real. 

he’s out cold within five minutes. 

later, when you ask what he thinks of the plush, nagi mumbles, “it’s chill. keep it around. less work for me.” 

ness alexis

the second he opens the door, he’s already calling out, “i’m home! did you miss meeee?” 

he’s expecting your toddler to come barreling down the hallway, as usual. but the house is suspiciously quiet. he tiptoes in, peeking into the living room… and stops dead in his tracks. 

there, smack in the middle of the floor, is a giant plush version of him. same brown/purple hair, same sweet smile. 

your toddler is curled into its lap, cradled like a baby, wrapped in a blanket and surrounded by picture books and little toy animals. 

“... huh? when did i become a babysitter and a pillow?” 

your toddler perks up immediately. “real papa!” 

your son clambers out of the plushie’s arms (it sort of flops over sideways), racing over to him with a huge grin. 

“you came back! fake-papa was here ‘cause i missed you so much.” 

ness’s face melts. 

“you… you replaced me… with me?” he laughs, picking his son up and spinning him around. “that’s so cute it should be illegal.” 

he nuzzles his face into his toddler’s cheek and coos dramatically, “i can’t believe you made me into a plush. i’m already soft, though! did you need softer papa?” 

your toddler nods, whispering, “for snuggles.” 

“okay, that’s fair,” he whispers back, suddenly very serious. 

he ends up taking the plush everywhere in the house like it’s part of the family now. dinner? plushie gets a chair. bedtime? plushie gets tucked in. 

he even jokingly gets jealous when the baby says he loves “both papas.” 

“i love you more, right? right??” 

(you catch him whispering to the plush one night: “i guess we’re co-parenting now. don’t you dare steal my spot.”) 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[16ferrari]

Jack abbot x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, fear of needles, mentions of needles.

“Sweetheart, i need to do this” jack stood in front of you, hands on his hips and a deadbeat exhausted expression on his face.

He was tired, you knew that very much, but the sight of the large, but normally sized, needle on the bathroom counter, made you shake your head. Crossing your arms to protect them from jack inserting the needle into one of them.

“Come on, isn’t there another way?” You whined, sure you probably sounded like a kid, but you’ve never been the huge fan of needles. “Isn’t there a medicine, i could just take, like swallowing wise” you pouted your lips, hoping if you look cute enough he’ll pull out a miracle bottle of medicine that could help you with your infection you were dealing with

Jack sighed for the tenth time that night, he ran a hand through his curls before getting down on his knees to level with you from where you sat on the toilet. He softly Creased your cheek with his rough and working hand, pushing the hair from your eyes, to see the generally terrified look in your eyes.

“Hon, i told you, its a bad infection. Look”

he helped you stand up from the toilet and guided you to the mirror, he stayed behind you tilting your head so you could at yourself in the mirror, tears willed up in your eyes. You did look terrible, skin pale, lips Chapped, dark circles around your eyes, skin around your neck severely red with a rash forming,

“you need the shot, honey or else your gonna get worse. And you don’t want that”

He knew the risks of his next actions could very well get him sick as well, but he could less, he turned you around to face him, he wiped away your fallen tears and leaned forward placing a gentle and loving kiss to your lips, you whined through the pain from his lips meeting your rough ones, and placed your hand on the back of his head pulling him in as close as possible.

You both stayed like that lips connected together, his hands on your waist holding you tightly. “We’re getting distracted” he chuckled against your lips as he pulled away, making you groan throwing your head back, you knew there was no getting out of this.

You retook your sat on top of the toilet and held out your arm for him to inject you with the needle. “Save me doc” you closed your eyes and lowered your head.

Jack couldn’t stop the laugh from leaving his lips, you looked adorable in his eyes. “Promise, you won’t feel it” he filled the needle with the anti-infection medicine, and softly grabbed your arm, flapping it upward, trying to find that particular spot to inject the needle into.

You started humming a song to distract yourself from sharp pain that was to come. Jack looked you eyes soft and yearning, he started humming the song with you, a smile appearing on both of your faces as you both knew what song you were humming, your wedding song.

“Ready”

“No- but sure”

you slightly jumped, biting down hardly on your bottom lip as you felt the metal needle come in contact with your skin. As badly as it hurt, it was over in two seconds, making you chuckle to yourself. “Okay, that actually didn’t hurt” jack’s head fell forward in your lap, a deep laugh leaving his lips.

“I told you honey, it wasn’t” he looked up at you and placed a hand on your cheek, “my little scaredy-cat” he pulled at the back of your head, tugging your head down to plant kisses to your lips.

“Shut up, now your gonna need a shot for kissing me, abbot”

He shrugged his shoulders, “i can handle it” he teased you.

[spookyji]

fav place to cum. txt

nsfw, mdni. hmm, i’m in the mood to write hcs like these more than fics rn but also i have a big backlog of asks i need to catch up on eep

yeonjun = creampies, it’s not up for debate. it’s so possessive and addictive, the way he needs to fill you up with his cum and watch it seep out, mark you up inside and out so there’s no doubt you’re his. the corner of his lip pulled up into a smirk when your legs lock around his slender waist, never want him to pull out, hmm? not when he’s hitting that spot every time, rough and fast thrusts that leave you a whining mess, he’ll make you beg for him to cum inside. and there’s nothing better than being filled up to the brim with his cum, insides painted white with his cream. coos at you in a teasing way when your whimpering it’s too much, seed drooling from your cunt when he finally pulls out, dripping down on his sheets. slaps your sensitive folds, all marked up in his cum ‘cause you look so cute when you’re crying from overstim, feels so good to be fucked dumb, gonna let him fill you up again? one load’s not enough.

soobin… obviously inside, but genuinely, all over your boobs is his weakness if he can manage to pull out… maybe it’s better to give him a titjob as foreplay, he’ll cum in like 2 minutes flat. so obsessed with your tits, so soft n plush, the flushed, leaking tip of his cock protruding from the crevice between your boobs, on your knees, hold them in place for him while soobin thrusts messily into your breasts, moaning all over about how good it feels, his eyes can’t move from the sight of his throbbing cock fucking your tits, your pretty fingers squishing the plush of your chest together for him, oh, he’s so fucked, cums all over your tits in a creamy mess, so much milky white spurted on you,, soobin pushing you down on your back, need to clean you up, baby, tongue licking up his cum off your boobs, leaving a warm trail of saliva, face buried in your tits, have to make sure you’re all clean, hmm? tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple, a string of saliva hanging from his lip to the little nub… gonna let him have his way a little longer?

beomgyu’s so into doggy all because he gets to cum all over your ass, make a sticky mess when he pulls out as viscous cream drips down your curves to your thighs,, his favorite after completely ruining your pussy. careful when you beg beomgyu for harder, ‘cause he’s already such an addict for a hard, quick fuck, long bangs sticking to his skin with sweat, hands grabbing at your ass, his head tipped forwards as he pants through his parted lips, feels so good to release so much stress all at once, doesn’t it? the kind of sex that probably gets him complaints from neighbors for being so loud, lewd slaps of skin on skin and beomgyu’s just so big, stuffing you full with every thrust ‘til he’s about to burst,, and he’s so good at it, pulling out and jerking off himself off to finish all over your ass, warm, sticky cum coating your skin as you whine cause it’s such a mess to clean up later,, on another note, he’s still waiting for the day he gets to fuck your ass when it’s covered in his cum

taehyun’s guilty pleasure is covering your face in his cum, hot milky seed that drips down your glasses and on your tongue as you lick it off your lips. you’re so pretty when you’re on your knees in front of him, lips wrapped ‘round his cock, hand tangled in your hair pushing you deeper, a choked sound from your throat before he’ll relent. precum and drool all over your lips, his cock slick with spit, a hint of teeth briefly against the sensitive, prominent veins. the way taehyun adjusts your tilted glasses for you, just before he pushes your head down harder, god, he has so much self control, he could last for so long, your knees sore against the hard floor,, don’t you deserve a treat for doing so well? open up. hot cream spurted all over your face, dripping on your tongue, glasses, and skin, so pretty when milky ropes of cum coat your face. under taehyun’s relentless gaze as you lick it off your lips and swallow,, no, he won’t make you clean all of it up right away, you look too perfect like this.

huening kai’s stamina is too much for you? it’s more than just his favorite place, your stomach, his cum spilt in sloppy ropes all over your skin and on his sheets, oh, he’s so messy. legs thrown over his shoulders so he can thrust deeper, moans slipping from his throat at the sight of the little bulge he makes in your cum covered stomach when you’re full of his cock, your soft skin coated in his cum, another sticky sensation dripping down your thighs from how many loads ago? sex is so messy when it’s kai, he’s just so obsessed with you and your body, he can’t get enough, a white ring around his cock ‘cause he’s already filled you up, too. your legs sore and tired, whiny apologies because he’s still not had enough, just one more, please, you can take it, he knows you can. mhmm, one more load, cums right on your pussy. kai, ‘s messy, you mumble, can barely think straight, but he’s so sweet… and clumsy, using his discarded shirt to try to clean you up a little,,

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit".

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech.. i made it since i couldn't find it 🫠💕

[ilostthewar]

Omega!Reader trying to bond with pack!141 through grooming.

It’s obvious, but Johnny and Gaz fall into this much easier. Soap is a fellow Omega, so he gets the urge you’re having. Gaz is a beta, and while his instincts are a bit different, he’s completely fine with being cared for this way. Soap likes it best when you play with his hair. He might not let you shave him, he insists that it’s an art that is incredibly difficult to master Gaz is rolling his eyes the entire time. But Johnny wants you to oil his hair, play with the strands, deep condition them. Soap is the first to complain about the size of the showers cause how is he supposed to be lovingly scrubbed by your hands if the bathrooms are the size of a tiny closet? Even if he complains, it doesn’t stop him from wanting to bathe with you. Especially early in the morning when you’re both a little drowsy and the water is still hot, he can lock his arms around you and lay his face in your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your gland. It makes your scent fill the steamy room, like a sauna specifically made for him.

Gaz is in a similar boat. Grease his scalp, help detangle his hair. He likes that you keep products specifically for his hair type. He ultimately prefers lying with his head in your lap, or with you straddling his thighs, gently working lotion into his face with the tips of your fingers. He likes doing face masks with you, as long as they aren’t the pulling kind. Enjoys you gently spreading the paste over his cheeks, and you always peck his lips afterwards. However long the masks take, he simply sits with you. He likes that afterwards you’ll use a warm cloth to gently wipe it all away until his skin is clean. Kyle doesn’t really feel the need to steal your time or attention, but he willingly admits that he would bite someone if they tried to interrupt this time with you. Kyle is constantly moving, so it’s more than nice to have his pretty omega fretting over him and ensuring his comfort. When you both are finished, you’ll rub your face against his and purr so sweetly and he would do anything to get to have this all the time.

John takes a bit more convincing. He’s a busy man, and while he gets what you’re trying to do, he has trouble wiggling the time in for extensive spa treatments. At first it’s simply being around while he gets ready. Sitting on the toilet lid while he goes through his routine, or sprawled in his bed while he gets dressed. Eventually, you can start to help once you notice the rhythm, buttoning up his shirts, helping tuck them in. Pulling him around by his belt to steal kisses while you fix his collar. Though John’s absolute favorite is when he sits you on the sink and you help him trim his beard. Your hands are firm and gentle, moving in steady motions, pulling the skin taught before swiping the razor. It’s quiet and almost reverent. And when you’re done, aftershave applied and items cleaned and put away, you’ll just press against his jaw and neck. Maybe he can spare a few minutes.

Simon is probably the hardest one to bond with in this way. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but some days are harder than others to have so much direct attention layered on him from his pack. It starts small. Simply ensuring his gear is in place, gently pulling his mask to cover his skin, maybe scenting an item of his clothing so he can have you with him all day. Peeling his gloves off to rub lotion into his hands when you both are sitting together, massaging the muscle until it twitches and relaxes. Sliding your hand under his mask to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. They seem like smaller gestures, but it’s in the way Ghost will lean into you and allow you to continue. How he searches you out when he’s had a long day. Eventually he’ll end up splayed across your body, and he swears he’s not asleep, but you’d beg to differ with his air horn snoring.

[resident-gay-bitch]

Steve’s always a little insecure in his relationships, always worries that they’re only in it for a short while, that all their promises are just words, no truth behind them.

He’s two months into his relationship with Eddie, and Steve’s already very in love with him, and it’s terrifying. This is the most in love Steve has ever been.

They said it for the first time the other day, during a super romantic and cosy night of Chinese takeout and nostalgic kids movies, snuggled up on the couch with never ending kisses. They had sex that night too, for the first time.

They had fooled around only a couple of times before that, nothing too serious, and only twice, since Eddie’s Demisexual. Steve didn’t know that waiting was exactly what he needed, assurance that Eddie wasn’t just there for his body.

After that night he feels even more connected to Eddie, feels the love radiating from his goofy smile and his puppy dog eyes. And the way Eddie kissed him, the way Eddie touched him, it was unforgettable. Genuine electricity. Steve had never felt so special and precious in his life, never felt so loved.

He’s still got his insecurities though, now that they’ve stepped up their relationship, Steve’s gotten a lot more comfortable, shown the secret side of him, the side that only Robin knows about really. He’s worried, like all the rest of them, that Eddie won’t like him anymore, that he’ll leave.

Robin tells him he’s being negative and stupid, Eddie’s totally the one, she can feel it!!

Steve wants to feel it, thinks the tips of his fingers are buzzing from it, but he just won’t let himself. Not yet. Not until he knows for sure.

They’re on FaceTime, having dinner together because Eddie’s gone away for a few nights with his band for a gig, and they miss eachother. Eddie called him, no prompting needed, and when Steve answered he said: “Stevie, baby, oh my god I missed you— hey fuckin, Jeff!! Look at my boyfriend, how hot is he? I got a cute ass boyfriend, wow, I feel so much better now I get to talk to you again. How are you, sweetheart? I hope you’re okay.”

Steve’s heart fucking bloomed. He feels nauseous he’s so fucking in love.

“What are you doing, Ed’s? You keep looking away from me.”

“I know, a total crime, don’t hate me. I’d much rather look at you, baby— hey shut up, Jeff, let me be in love!” Eddie yelled, tossing a pen at his bandmate across the room, “Sorry, Stevie. Uh, I’m doing some research for some songs I’m writing, making sure I’m not gonna fucking accidentally steal someone’s copyrighted track. Boring stuff, legal stuff, what are you doing?”

“Not much, missing you.”

Eddie chuckles, “God, I miss you too. Want me to come over when I get home? I’d invite you to mine, but these guys always get grouchy after a long drive home and our unit would probably just depress you.”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiled sweetly, picking at his dinner. They fall into silence for a while, Eddie deep in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out over his top lip as he types away on his laptop.

Steve’s got this question gnawing at him. One of those dumb fucking questions that he shouldn’t ask, because it’s stupid. The kind of question that if he asks too many of them, his parter will get pissed off and leave, or yell at him to stop. He’s already asked Eddie one weird question, but it wasn’t even that weird, it still got a strange reaction from Eddie though. Steve didn’t take it as a good one.

Fuck, he can’t help it though, it just starts coming out of his mouth before he can really stop it, “Hey, uh, Eddie…?”

“Yah, light of my life?” He laughs to himself, isn’t looking at the camera so he can’t see Steve begin to blush, thankfully.

“If you became a rich and famous rockstar, would you leave me behind? Be honest.” Steve nodded, “I can take it-“

“Of course not, Stevie.” Eddie said, still looking at his laptop screen, it seems like he barely even thinks about the answer, “Why would I do that?”

“If you were famous, you’d have other options.”

“Yeah, but I have you. Would you leave me, if you got famous?”

“No.” Steve snickers, like it’s obvious. Because it is, because Steve’s attached to Eddie, obviously, Steve loves Eddie more than Eddie loves Steve, probably.

“See, so why would I?” Eddie says simply, a small smile on his face as he looks at Steve like he’s being goofy and weird.

Steve should just shut his mouth before Eddie starts to hate him, but he just can’t, “Well, there are better options for famous people.”

“Not for me.” Eddie says simply, and it kills Steve, genuinely, a fucking stake through the heart in the best kind of way.

“What if you were on a red carpet, and… uh… oh, what if Hugh Jackman hit on you? Would you chose him over me?”

Eddie laughed, “Look, Hugh is hot, but he’s not as hot as you. Have you seen your ass, Stevie?”

Steve flustered, “We- Uh, what about like, Dave from Foo Fighters? He’s really hot.”

“Not my type at all, besides he’s a cheater so ew.”

“Okay…” Steve wonders, “Megan Fox?”

“Gorgeous! But I don’t swing that way.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Steve sighed, “Oh, you really like Robert Irwin, right?”

Eddie laughed, looked over at Steve on his phone and smiled sweetly, rubbed a hand over his mouth, “Yeah, I like him, he’s cute. Wanna know why?”

Suddenly, Steve feels very jealous. It must show on his face too because Eddie snickers at him, “Uh, why?”

“Because he reminds me of you, dork.”

“What? How?” Steve is baffled.

“He’s cute, I like your little blonde highlights and he’s blonde. And he’s fit like you I guess. But mostly because he’s like, just a good looking chill out dude until you hear him talk, then you realise he’s a huge massive super ultra dork and you can’t help but want to know more about him.” Eddie smiled, turned back to his laptop and Steve watched him scroll through a document through the reflection of his glasses, “If Robert Irwin ever hit on me I’d be flattered as fuck. But I’d kindly reject him, and tell him I’ve got my own dork at home who prepared me for such a moment, by asking stupid questions like would you ever leave me— no Steve. I wouldn’t. Duh. You’re too good of a kisser.”

Steve laughed, let himself feel flustered for a while. Satisfied that he let himself be just the right amount of clingy to let Eddie know that he’s kinda like that, but not too clingy that he scared Eddie away.

“Would you take me with you then? When you’re rich and famous?”

“Oh, you know it baby.” Eddie grinned, “When I’m making millions, you’re quitting your goddamned job and travelling the world with me, and I’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be your full time sugar daddy no doubts about it, gorgeous.”

Steve loves this guy so much. “Yeah, sure, you can be my sugar daddy the day you figure out how to ask me how to touch your dick without stuttering and blushing and hiding in my neck about it.”

Eddie stuttered, clearly caught off guard as he began to choke on air. Steve could hear his friends in the room around Eddie begin to laugh and make fun of him. Steve laughed with him, because Eddie knows how Steve feels about that, he knows that Steve likes how shy Eddie got in bed.

Steve thinks it’s incredibly hot, a guy so confident and out there reduced to a stuttering mess the second he gets a “hot” guy in bed, as Eddie said.

Eddie’s friends begin to heckle and tease him for a bit, and Steve listens in silence as his boyfriend fights with the lot of them.

“Hey, Eddie?” Steve asks, once they’re calmed down and quiet again.

Eddie sighs, rolls his head away from his laptop and over to look at Steve, Steve hates this. Eddie smiles anyway, even though Steve is sure he’s faking it now, and says, “Yes, my love?”

He wants to take it back. He wants to shut his mouth.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head.

“No, my love. Ask me, go on. It was a follow up question to the whole fame thing, right?” Eddie shrugged, “I only sighed because you should know that how I feel isn’t something so easily raptured by a mere celebrity.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded, thought about that for a moment. Wondered if anyone else in his situation would have known that, maybe he’s just insecure, too insecure, Eddie’s bound to get annoyed by it. It seems like he already is. “I was just going to ask if you’d ever write a song about me?”

Eddie smiles, blushes, and it’s so sweet, “I already have, Stevie. Three.” He looks back at his laptop, groans and Steve sees in his glasses reflection that Eddie closes all the tabs he’s looking at in anger, “Yah, you’re so easy to write love songs about to be completely honest. But no, I’m not telling you anything about them. You’ll hear when they’re ready.”

Steve is over the moon, “Okay.”

Silence again. He watches Eddie open up a new application, Steve recognises as his music app thing. He makes demos and back tracks with it, which is cool. Eddie begins to play around with if a bit, and Steve listens to the noise and wonders what song Eddie’s trying to create.

He’s got that urge again. God, he’s so clingy. Steve can’t stand how clingy he is, no one can. It’s only a matter of time before Eddie’s telling him he’s too clingy and walking out the door.

He really can’t help himself. Maybe he’s just self destructive.

“Eddie, would you tell the world I was your boyfriend, if you get famous?”

“Yup.” Eddie nodded, “But they’d only know your name, and your face, and how much I love you. Don’t want you getting stalked by weirdos— you know, if I get famous enough that people want to stalk my boyfriend.”

Steve thinks that’s really sweet of him, especially since he had that rolling off the top of his tongue, no thinking time needed.

“Well… would you take me to all your A lister parties and events?”

“If there’s no plus one option, I’m not going sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you sitting at home, worried.”

“What would you do if a celebrity like… hmm, Eddie Van Halen hit on me?”

Eddie grinned, “Then I’d say you’re seeing ghosts, sunshine.”

“If he were alive, though?”

“Then… I’d think it’s awesome that we have something in common, you’re our type— oh! And then you’d get to say you were hit on by two guys named Eddie who played guitar super good.”

Steve laughed, “Would you introduce me to Sabrina Carpenter?”

“It would be the first thing I’d do.”

“Would you get jealous if she hit on me?”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nodded, “I’m gay as fuck and I’d still take her out on a date, you know, she’s pretty. She’s like, the girl version of you. Anyway I’d be super jealous and heartbroken but I’d tell you to take your chance.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” He assured, “You will be hearing from me, I’ll be that crazy ex just waiting for you two to break up. I’d sabotage so bad, but I’d just want you to be happy. But I would hate if that was without me.”

Steve smiled, “Imagine if we were animals? Would you still fall in love with me if we were both little otters or something?”

“Yup, I’d be head otter heals for you.”

Steve laughed, “Dude, you’re so lame.”

“Don’t call me dude whist asking these clingy ass questions.” Eddie snickered out, and Steve shut up.

He swallowed. Stared hard at the camera and tried to surpress his sudden urge to cry.

“You get so fucking clingy sometimes.” Eddie muttered, quiet enough that his friends couldn’t hear him, “I genuinely didn’t think someone could get this clingy.”

Steve hates him.

He’s about to shut off the call when he sees something flash in Eddie’s glasses, squints to get a better look at whatever is on Eddie’s screen.

“Hey, uh, forgot to mention my uncle had this watch he thought you might like— cause I got one, but you don’t wear silver do you?”

“Nope, never.” Steve shook his head, bile rising in his throat, he can’t figure out what’s taken up all of Eddie’s attention, “Tell him thanks though.”

“Got it.” Eddie muttered to himself, pressed enter on his keyboard, and a webpage popped up with large images of golden band rings.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders quietly.

“Huh? Oh, just mixing some music still, like I was before. Just trying to think up what I should do next.”

Steve is not that stupid. He knows Eddie’s lying. He’s lying so hard right now.

Eddie grabs his phone, pulls it close to his face so Steve can only see from his nose up, and he begins tapping away at his screen.

“Sorry, I’ll put you down in a sec, cutie, just checking something.”

With this closer angle, Steve can see very clearly what Eddie’s checking on his phone. He’s checking his bank account.

He’s checking his bank account, looking back at the web page of rings on his laptop, then pondering something in his head.

“Everything okay, Eddie?”

“Yup, just thinking up some lyric changes. Got them all written in my phone, I’ll put you down now.”

He’s such a liar, Steve’s just confused. And hurt.

“Why are you so quiet?” Eddie wondered, his phone back down on the table like it was before, eyes back on his laptop as he scrolls through rings, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded.

Eddie sighed, “Hey, would you still love me if we were animals? You never answered back.” Eddie said, “What if I was an otter and you were a little fishy?”

Steve hesitates, “You’d probably eat me.”

“I’d eat you right now, Steve.” Eddie said flatly, then he ducked his head and whispered, “I miss the taste of you. I love kissing you- Hey, can I suck your dick sometime? Been thinkin’ about it.”

“Oh, now you’re brave enough to ask whilst you’re a million miles away and not even looking at me?”

“Yup.” Eddie snickered, froze for a moment with his brows furrowed, clicked on a ring and zoomed in on it, glanced between his laptop and Steve a few times. “Uh, sorry, what were we talking about?”

Steve can see the description of the ring he’s looking at. He can see, clear as day, the description reads (backwards): “Solar - Gold embossed engagement ring.”

Steve can’t believe this. Eddies looking at engagement rings. Is he looking at engagement rings?

“How much do you love me?” Steve asked, a vomit of words.

Eddie smiled, hung his head like he’s all embarrassed about it, “A lot, Stevie baby. A lot.” Eddie chuckled, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself. Not to be poetic or anything, but my life was a dark, empty night sky before I met you, and then suddenly my life was summer sun, gorgeous. You’re my sunshine, right?”

“Right.” Steve nodded, “I love when you call me that.” He squints at the reflection in Eddie’s glasses and can make out the pattern of the sun embossed on the ring.

“God, I miss you.” Eddie sighs, adds the ring to his shopping cart and keeps scrolling.

Jeff walks behind Eddie on his way out of the kitchen and stops in his tracks, walks over.

“Just working on that song, look good?” Eddie asks, and Jeff leans down on his shoulder, “I think if I add this in, this take could be the one. What do you think? Or do you think I’m being too stupid? Is it too soon for that big moment?”

Oh, fuck, he’s really looking at engagement rings.

Jeff smiles, squeezes Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly, “I mean, yeah, in theory. But you’ve never done anything by the book, and all your best choices have been a little crazy like that. If you feel it’s the right choice, and will work well with the music, then yeah, by all means.”

Eddie gins, looks back at Steve, “Yeah, it’s definitely the right choice.”

Jeff snickers, wonders off shaking his head, and Eddie looks so giddy as he takes one last look at the ring.

Eddie’s thinking about proposing to Steve.

“Don’t you think I’m clingy?” Steve blurted out, catching Eddie completely off guard.

Eddie glanced at him, sighed, carefully shut his laptop and set his attention on Steve, “Well, yeah? You are clingy.” Eddie shrugged, “Dude, you don’t understand how lucky I feel, I think. I like that. I mean, you love me so much that you wanna cling to me like a fucking koala. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten bored of me yet.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Steve feels so warm and fuzzy inside.

“I love you so much.” He mumbles, brings the phone close to his face to virtually kiss Eddie, “Do you want to move in with me?”

“What?” Eddie stuttered out, “Uh, are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious in this conversation and also about this relationship. About you.”

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed, laughed a little delirious, “Yeah, yes, I do. I’d love that, sunshine.”

“When you get back then. Just… just come over and don’t leave.” Steve nodded, “We can talk more then, about us, and everything. I just want you around me always.”

“God, Stevie, you don’t know how much I feel that in my heart.” Eddie said, two hands pressed over his heart to swoon a little.

Steve doesn’t tell him that he knows of Eddie’s plans, and five months later, when the special day comes, Steve doesn’t tell him that he’s already seen the ring. Though, he does mention it in his vowels, tells everyone watching just how much harder that evening made Steve fall in love with Eddie. That he couldn’t believe someone was falling so hard, so fast, just as he was.

Steve never doubted another relationship again, purely because his only relationship from then on was with Eddie.

He’d never felt as secure as he does with Eddie, since that night, never second guessed his intentions, never doubted their love.

They’re mutually head otter heals for each other. Robin was right, Eddie is the one.

[revelboo]

Trying to figure out how road head would work within the alt mode. What do you think our honeys reactions would be?

🤣 I’m assuming you don’t mean playing with their uncanny valley avatars. In bayverse they had quite a bit of control over their bodies and alt modes, so I’m carrying that over to G1/IDW. Also @drabbletron writes altmode spice, so check ‘em out. 🔞 🌶️

Altmode

Hound x Reader

• “Babe, you’re killing me right now,” he growls, watching you stretch lazily, feet hanging out his open window while the fingers of one hand play with the tooling on his seat, the other soft hand curling around his gear shift. Stroking like it’s his spike. Knows you know exactly what you’re doing. “We’re almost there, promise.” And your thumb slides over the top of his gear shift to make him shudder.

• “Give me something else to play with then,” you tease as his wheels hum on the empty stretch of road. Because so what if you pull over for a bit to play? You’ll get to the park sooner or later. Hear and feel his engine rumbling as you lay your head back against his seat. “Hound, please?” And he growls, the guttural rasps and whirs not even remotely human. Probably alien swearing if you have to guess.

• “You want my avatar, sweetspark?” Venting at your quick and disgusted sounding ‘ew, no,’ he rocks on his shocks slightly. Doesn’t know what your issue is with the thing, but you won’t touch it. Insist it’s creepy even if it looks perfectly human. Maybe he can shock you into behaving then? It takes quite a bit of concentration to shift his interior around and stay rolling on the road, but it might be worth it to get you to stop teasing him. And you lean closer to his door when his interior shifts around, wind tearing at your hair. But it is worth the effort when you make a little choking noise and start laughing. “Happy?”

• Well. That is definitely not what you expected. Laughing so hard you’re crying, you stare at his damn spike just jutting up between the seats where the center console should be. And you hear him chuckle like he thinks he’s just won. There’s no wrapping a hand around him like this, you’re pretty sure it’s smaller than it would be in his full size bot mode, but the thing’s still intimidatingly big. No amount of prepwork is making that thing fit. “That’s just mean,” you mutter hearing him laugh.

• You’re not whining about being bored at least. Or touching everything- and he’s nearly swerving off the road when you shift, little fingers tracing his biolights and the ridges of his spike before you brush your mouth against the head. “What are doing?” He groans, struggling to stay in the lane as you stroke him. Apparently not caring if he runs into a ditch as your mouth slides down the underside of his spike, tongue sliding against him. And he’s swearing, hearing you startled gasp when he turns onto a rutted out gravel road.

• Laughing as he slings open a door and immediately transforms and mass shifts as soon as you’re clear, his spike bobs between his thighs as he stalks your way and you back away, grinning. “Is that for me?” Completely unrepentant, you shimmy out of your pants and underwear. Know he’s annoyed, but you both needed a break. Chance to stretch your legs. Fuck like bunnies out in nature, since it’s his favorite thing.

• You’re still grinning up at him as he curls his servos around your waist and lifts you to pin against a tree. “You’re such a brat sometimes, sweetspark,” he growls affectionately, head of his spike sliding against you as he lines himself up and sinks inside your wet heat. Your legs wrapping around his waist as he begins to move against you, thrusting deep. Listening to those little moans and gasps as he gives you exactly what you want and he desperately needs. Maybe he can frag you so good you’ll be too exhausted to misbehave the rest of the trip? Or maybe he’ll need to make more of these little rest stops to keep you happy.

[writing-mlm]

Mark variants and a Rogue reader??

Basically reader is a super with the ability to absorb physical strength or powers from the ones she touches, the only catch is that it cannot be turned off so they can't touch anyone for to long or reader will kill them

Head canons for Invincible Variants with a boyfriend that has Rogue’s powers (Mark, Sinister, Mohawk, Omni-Mark, No mask)

warnings: canon-level violence, canon-level actions, mentions of reader dying, sometimes reader matches their freak (mohawk mark), manipulation (Sinister), talks of human farms… not proof-read word count: 900 a/n: i’m aware the request says she, i’m working on the assumption the requester was referencing Rogue

Main Mark

very careful about your powers and you

you have to reassure him that he, in fact, can be within one foot of you without setting your powers off

introduces you to Debbie after the third date, warns her that you’re very touch adverse and when you’re comfortable with her knowing, he lets you explain

Debbie’s confused at first, she doesn’t understand how your powers work until you show her a video

aside from that, Mark is glad his mother likes you

when Oliver comes into the picture it’s harder to get him to understand that he cannot touch your skin

especially with him being so young, you started avoiding the house until he was old enough to really understand 

literally the best if you over-use them and need to rest

converts his bedroom into an amazing recovery room + refuses to let Cecil or anyone from the GDP to go anywhere near you

you’ve mentioned once or twice they used to push you to the point of having you in comatose states 

he’ll insist that you undress to something looser, more skin showing while he adds his layers

in this world you’re not over confident but not incredibly anxious about your powers- a good balance 

during fighting you’re the best tag-team, though 

out of all the variants you’re probably the best duo, working so well together that it’s scary

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he doesn’t say anything. It’s your choice, he’ll stand by whatever you do, even if it means he’s holding your hand as you pass

Sinister Mark

literally loves your powers so much it’s borderline an obsession

it’s great for when he rounds up the Resistance and uses you to torture them

he’ll drag them into a corner and sit, watching as you remove your gloves probably kicking his feet with glee

sometimes he’ll push you too far, usually on accident but other times it’s definitely on purpose 

you’d made him upset and he can’t hurt you, not the love of his life 

and besides it’s you who went too far. it’s not his fault you listened to him urging you to keep going and now you’re in a small coma 

he takes good care of you, though, he wouldn’t just leave you to recover alone. maybe add a few condescending remarks but that’s it. he’s hoped you’ve learned your lesson because of it, though 

asks you to take Eve’s powers because they’re useful, especially since you don’t have 

when it gets to his cannibalism era, he loves watching as they bleed out just to get their life forced sucked away because you’ve finally fully joined him and stopped holding back

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’ll ask what you want to do. If you want to live, he’ll pick off people just so you can. If you want to age and die, he won’t let you. There wasn’t an option, are you kidding? You’re his, if he lives a million years you’re going to live a million fucking years

Mohawk Mark

he’d probably use you as a shield at some point

the fight is getting boring or maybe- rarely- something he can’t fight alone and he just needs to leave 

signals you over, you’re never far from him and rips your gloves off before putting your hand on whoever he’s fighting 

sometimes he grabs your hand or shoulder just to see how it feels

he thinks it’s oddly satisfying and he loves watching as you get his strength for a little while

it lets him get really rough 

you definitely overdo it a lot, in the beginning you were more reserved about your powers but you started to match Mark and eventually, you found yourself draining people without meaning to

not your fault they have sick ass powers

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, Mohawk Mark starts a human farm so you can drain their life energy to stay alive. you don’t have a choice, you’re living with him. Even if he has to force you. 

No Mask Mark 

he seems like a very touch starved person and is a little bummed he can’t be skin-to-skin with you but he manages

sometimes he risks it, begging you for just thirty seconds because he just needs to touch you

whenever you’re together he’ll act as a human shield, shoulder-checking anyone who gets too close

you’re never allowed to walk with both your sides open to people, you always have to have a wall next to you or he’ll simply carry you wherever you’re going

you’re a lot more guarded about your powers, no skin aside from your face and MAYBE your neck

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’s similar to main timeline Mark and lets you pick. Literally devastated if you decide to ride out the rest of your natural life but if you decide to drain people to live, he’s very clearly happy. He can’t lose another boyfriend, he probably would become a hermit if you decided to not extend your lifespan

Omni-man Mark

He’s probably the one who’s the most relaxed about your powers

he understands to an extent that while you’ve long since had these powers you’re reserved around them and prefer to linger in the back of fights 

he keeps certain people around for the sole purpose that you take their powers during fights 

literally keeps them in cages and beckons you forward, arms crossed and goes “pick.” 

it’s rare, extremely rarely, that he pushes you to go completely gloveless during fights 

he’s strong and fast enough to defend and attack at the same, you can worry about other things 

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’s similar to Sinister Mark but it’s clear there’s no choice. he’d protect himself more than you, if you decide to pass he’ll kill you before you can start growing truly old to help himself process your mortality but if you decide to live, he’ll give one nod and every so often he’ll find someone for you to drain

[flwrkid14]

another gotham, another fate

Gotham never gets a Batman.

Bruce Wayne disappears into himself. Maybe he travels. Maybe he drinks. Maybe he walks the edge of the Cave and never steps down. Maybe he just grows old behind cold marble walls, haunted in a quiet, personal way. A man who never found a way to scream back at the world. Either way, there’s no cowl. No mission. No signal in the sky.

And the city… adapts. It grows meaner in places, quieter in others. Crime learns to wear a suit and speak politely. The monsters don’t vanish—but they go unchecked. Gotham learns to live without hope.

The tragedy isn’t what it becomes.

It’s what they don’t.

---

The circus keeps moving.

Dick Grayson still loses his parents, but no hand reaches out through the crowd to catch him. No cape wraps around his shoulders. No name whispered through a cowl. He mourns, of course. He bleeds. But he doesn’t break.

He stays. With the cast mates who knew him as a toddler, who helped raise him between acts. The circus becomes a family in the truest, rawest sense—fractured, mismatched, and fiercely protective. He learns to laugh again.

Some nights, after a standing ovation, he disappears from the tents. He climbs buildings barefoot, somersaults across rooftops just to feel the wind kiss his face. There’s a pull he doesn’t understand, a familiarity in the city’s breathless heights. He never becomes Robin—but he dreams of being something, of doing more. And on the nights he flies, Gotham holds its breath like it almost remembers him.

---

Jason Todd stays dead to the world, but he doesn't die.

He becomes a ghost anyway. Just not the dramatic kind. He becomes something softer and sadder—just another kid in Crime Alley whose name nobody knows.

He finds peace in the quiet corners of the city: secondhand bookstores, shuttered libraries, crumbling apartment stairwells where no one asks questions. He steals poetry like he used to steal bread, tucks it under his shirt like it might keep him warm. His world is stitched together with phantom echoes and survival.

Some nights, he walks past a building he doesn’t recognize and feels like he’s being watched. Some mornings, he wakes up with a bruise on his knuckles he can’t explain.

He passes a graveyard one night and feels something tug at his ribs. A name he doesn’t remember. A blow he never took.

---

Tim Drake learns to sit still.

There are no shadows on the wall to chase. No dark knight to unravel. Just quarterly reports and dinner parties and whispered disappointment behind every door.

He keeps to himself. He’s good at it. He excels in every subject, learns how to navigate the Drake Corp boardroom like it’s a warzone. His parents are proud. He tells himself that’s enough.

But his hands twitch when the city goes quiet. His eyes flick toward rooftops like they’re supposed to mean something. He doesn’t know why.

Still, he watches the skyline like it’s a secret. Like if he studies it long enough, he’ll catch a glimpse of something important. Something he missed.

---

Stephanie Brown gets away with a lot.

No Bat means no one’s watching the alleyways. No one’s tracking the daughter of a third-string villain. She still puts on a homemade suit—just once. Paints a domino mask on with eyeliner, tapes foam to a sweatshirt, and climbs out her bedroom window.

It rains that night. She falls off a garage roof and cracks her elbow. She doesn’t try again.

Instead, she gets really good at pretending. She aces tests she didn’t study for. She flirts with danger in all the wrong ways. Gotham doesn’t need saving, she tells herself. And even if it did—who the hell would want her?

But some nights, when she sees police tape or hears a scream echo through the dark, she wonders what she could’ve been. What she almost was.

---

Cassandra Cain is made into a weapon.

There’s no one there to stop it. No Bat in a rain-slick alley whispering that she’s more than muscle memory and silence. No hand reaching out to rewrite her story.

So she runs. She slips through Gotham like mist—half myth, half shadow. People call her a ghost. A rumor. A girl-shaped legend with hands that only know how to end things.

She doesn’t know how to be anything else.

She hides in the forgotten places—abandoned church basements, subway tunnels worn thin by time. There, in the dark, she traces shapes into the dust with trembling fingers. Her body remembers violence, but her soul aches for language.

She learns to speak without words—through stillness, through motion, through the ache behind her eyes.

She watches dancers on the corner and mimics them in secret. Studies the curve of joy in their movement.

And sometimes—only sometimes—she watches from the rooftops. Watches a boy leap buildings like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Watches a girl in a patched costume refuse to give up. And it hits her like a bruise she doesn’t have a name for.

On rare nights, she dreams of masks. Of meaning. Of something that could’ve saved her.

But dreams slip through her fingers. And she always wakes up alone.

---

Barbara Gordon still gets shot.

Not by a man with a painted smile and a laugh that curdles blood. Not in a sick cosmic joke meant to break her spine.

Just... by a man with a gun on a street she shouldn’t have walked down. Wrong place, wrong time. Gotham doesn’t care either way. It never did.

She survives. Barely. And that’s the end of her independence. Of her plans. Her father cries at her bedside and she learns to swallow bitterness for his sake.

Eventually, she gets a chair. Then a keyboard. Then the city itself beneath her fingers. She becomes a digital ghost. A phantom in the wires.

She doesn’t call herself Oracle. No one does. But if you know where to look, she’s there. Watching. Listening. Waiting for someone who never came.

---

Duke Thomas still shines.

He loses his parents anyway. But not to Joker gas. Not in the headline-worthy way. Just quietly—Gotham’s way. Slowly. Unfairly.

He learns to survive without light. He walks through shadows like he owns them. There's something special in him, but no one’s around to name it. So he names it himself. Hope.

He joins protest groups. Breaks up fights. Tutors kids. He’s the kind of good that burns without needing a symbol. But still—when he’s alone, he dreams of yellow. Of armor. Of being chosen.

Instead, he chooses himself.

And maybe that’s enough.

---

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne is never born.

The League sharpens blades, not bloodlines. Talia walks away from the idea of motherhood, and Ra’s doesn’t see the point in heirs when there’s no Detective to challenge him.

But sometimes, in the quieter halls of the Lazarus Pits, something echoes. A flicker of potential that never arrives. A space left empty. The world feels strangely unbalanced, like it’s missing a knife it was meant to be cut by.

And somewhere—perhaps in a life that never gets to begin—there’s a boy who dreams in perfect sword strokes and paints his nightmares in watercolors. A boy raised by monsters, who could’ve become something else.

Someone no one ever gets the chance to save.

---

There’s no Batcave. No signal in the sky, rising above the city like a promise.

But still—Gotham makes something in the dark. Not quite heroes. Not quite villains. Just people. Half-formed. Half-healed. Haunted by versions of themselves they’ll never get to be.

You can almost catch glimpses of them—out of the corner of your eye, just past the edge of memory.

A boy in a circus who still flies. A kid in an alley who still aches. A quiet heir who still waits. A weapon shaped like a girl who moves like silence. A spark in purple who refuses to dim. A lightbearer who still shines. An oracle in the dark who still listens. A son who was never born.

And a city that never got saved.

[madaqueue]

IN YOUR BODY, IN HIS VOICE

you just need to hear his voice and you swear you’ll feel better. besides, a little rule breaking never hurt anybody…right?

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: smut. very guided phone sex/masturbation + a pinch of nipple play, lots of petnames (angel, darling, sweetheart, etc), i have no excuse i just need him to talk me through it tbh (wk: 1.8k)

a/n: thx to every beautiful little freak who voted in my poll for this :33 love you all hope you enjoyyyy <3333

You think you’re going insane.

It’s been less than a week since Suguru left for his work trip, and you genuinely think you’re losing your mind. Every little thing reminds you of him - the mug with a sip of stale coffee in the bottom, the towel that still smells like his shampoo, the rings left sitting on his bedside table.

You never noticed just how big they were, and you almost can’t picture the silver encasing his fingers…his hands…the way they used to cover your body, the metal cool against your hot skin-

Fuck.

And just like that, your thoughts were back to him again.

Has he always had this effect on you? Does he even know how easily he worked his way into your mind, growing roots there and blooming between your thoughts? Every beat of your heart seemed to call his name: Su - Gu - Ru.

Now your heart is beating even faster, begging for him. Suguru. Suguru.

It’s all too hot in your bedroom without him. The air is too stuffy, the comforters too heavy. The rough cotton scratches against your bare skin - unlike his, which softly cradled you with every touch.

God, you miss the way he would touch you. Smooth hands trailing down your back, up your neck, over your chest…

FUCK.

It’s been less than a week since Suguru left, and it’s the longest you’ve gone without sex. Maybe that’s why you’re losing your mind, it has to be.

It’s also, obviously, the longest you’ve gone without cumming since you started dating. The rules were clear: if you wanted to get off, he would be the one to do it. It was easy to agree - after all, he was so, so eager to help. It took little more than a quiet whine in his direction for your clothes to be torn off, Suguru already buried deep inside you. It got to the point where you were practically always flushed and ready around him, anything more than a hand trailing along your skin enough to set you off.

Of course, you also understood the constraints of this little arrangement: no touching yourself when he wasn’t there.

But now, it’s been days. You could feel your thoughts getting clouded around the edges, blurred with an insatiable desire. Suguru. Suguru. Suguru.

Surely, one little touch wouldn’t hurt…right?

Your hands move on their own, trailing down, down, down between your legs. Sliding your panties off your legs, you sink into the warmth of yourself. You try, you really fucking try to curl your fingers in the same way he does, to reach that one spot that has you seeing white. Yet, even when you pick up the pace, it’s not enough.

What the hell?

Did Suguru somehow manage to ruin you for yourself?

You grumble in disappointment, before a moment of clarity strikes you - you can just call him! Surely you just need to hear his voice, that should be close enough to the real thing, right? And it’s not like he’ll even be able to tell what’s going on; a win-win!

His name pops up on your phone as you hold it to your ear, fingers still toying with your needy clit.

“Hi angel,” he purrs through the other line.

A shiver shoots up your spine - god, you fucking missed him.

“Hi, Sugu.”

He adjusts the phone, soft crinkles of his uniform catching in the microphone. “What’s got you calling me so late?”

“Just missed your voice.” And it’s not technically a lie - even just knowing he’s on the other line has your legs shaking.

“Oh?” he lets out a low chuckle. “Well, how am I to deny my pretty girl?”

You try to stifle the whine bubbling from your lips, but between the taunting softness of his voice that tickles your skin like a soft fur, and the increasing pace of your hand pumping in and out, it tumbles out before you can stop it.

Everything freezes for a moment. Maybe he didn’t hear?

The other line goes dead for a second, before you hear his breath crackling through the speaker.

“What are you doing, angel?”

Fuck. FUCK. “N-nothing?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You can hear a smirk through the words.

“I-”

“You know better than that, don’t you? To lie to me?”

“Suguru, look-”

“Let me tell you what I think is happening.”

Your motions still, your stomach clenching in anticipation.

“I think that my poor, sweet baby missed me too much and got a little desperate. I think she tried to get herself off, but realized it just wasn’t the same without her dearest Suguru.” The sweetness dripping from his tone lands in your open mouth, waiting. “I think she decided to call me in the hopes that I wouldn’t notice, or at the very least, wouldn’t punish her for disobeying. Isn’t that right?”

“Mmmmaybe,” you whine, thighs rubbing together in earnest. In fear. In desire.

For a moment, the only sound is your breathing, forcing shaky exhales from your lungs.

“Well, I guess I better help my poor desperate little slut, hm? Is that what you’d like?”

Even just his words have your head swirling, mind going foggy. You missed this, the effect he has on you. You do need him. “Yes, please, Sugu.”

His chuckle is more air than a laugh, almost a purr through the distorted speaker. “Okay, my dear. But you’ll do exactly as I say, yes?”

“O-okay.”

“First, take your hand from between your legs.”

He wants you to…stop touching yourself?

You question the order for a moment before obediently removing it, your fingertips still sticky as they rest along your stomach.

“Now, touch your chest.”

Hesitantly, you drag your palm up, gently groping your tits.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels soft, right?”

And you’re almost too lost in the sensation, the gentle warmth radiating through your body, to respond, letting out a gentle hum as you knead into your flesh.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his own hand falling to palm at his growing bulge. Because even though he’s not saying it, he misses you too - the curves of your body, the swell and dips that make him melt into you. But not everything can be soft. “Place your fingers around your nipples. Start by just rubbing, fingernails circling around them.”

As you do, tingles spread from the surface into your ribs, into the beating of your heart.

“Now pinch. Hard.”

A choked gasp passes your lips at the mix of pain and shooting pleasure.

“Good job, angel. You like when it hurts, don’t you? Like to be reminded you’re nothing more than flesh and bone, a body made to be fucked, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” you breathe, your voice already strained.

“Aw, I know, I know,” he coos, but there’s only a whisper of condescension in it. Because he’s no better, finding ecstasy in the unyielding rub of his swollen cock against his boxers, nails beginning to dig into his heavy balls.

Both of you soak in the throbbing pain for a moment, before he continues.

“Rest your hand on your heart, for me.”

It’s racing.

“You feel how your chest rises and falls with every breath?”

Each beat, his name.

“When you exhale, feel that wave of warmth spreading down your body. That arousal, that desire, that starts in your throat and moves all the way down, down, down. Pooling in your core, building there. Breathe with me, sweetheart.”

Inhale.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Exhale.

“To be mine?”

Inhale.

“To be so desperate?”

Exhale.

Desire.

Inhale.

Exhale

Pleasure.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

Suguru.

Suguru.

Everything feels soft, fuzzy. It’s all him, all Suguru.

You barely even notice the way his name falls from your lips, a chant, a prayer.

His voice is the only thing you can hear.

“I know, angel, I know.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you? Doing just what I say?”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

“Mmhm,” you whine.

Cool air rests behind your back as your hips begin rutting off the bed, searching for salvation. But you obey, your open palm still resting over your ribcage. Each beat of your heart, his name.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

“You sweet, needy little thing.” His cock is out now, the quiet sound of him pumping his length almost audible to a more attentive audience, but it doesn’t even register as you listen, too lost in the lilting vowels, the softened consonants, the gentle purr of his voice, in everything that is him.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

“Take your hand and trace that warmth, down, and down, and down. Follow it down your chest, your stomach, let your fingers just brush over your skin. It tingles, doesn’t it?”

Like electricity.

Like love.

Everything feels tight inside you, your breathing growing increasingly rapid.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Suguru.

“You’ve been so good for me, I think you deserve a reward for being so obedient, don’t you?” 

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Please, Suguru?”

And he’s smiling. “Slowly, take two fingers and trace up between your legs.”

When you finally make contact with your cunt, you can’t even stifle the moan that leaves your throat. Even at the faintest contact, you feel on fire, back arching off the bed, muscles clenching.

“Aw, you really were desperate, huh?”

“I-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with that - you should feel like this, wanting to be touched, fucked, claimed. That’s what you’re made for, after all, isn’t it?”

Everything feels warm. “I-I am.”

“Yes, you are,” he purrs. “For being so, so good, why don’t you touch yourself properly, hm? Take that hand and rub your clit for me.”

When soft fingertips make contact with the twitching bundle of nerves, you practically scream. You never knew you could be so sensitive, heat shooting like lightning up your spine until it lands right back at your heart.

Each time you circle your fingers, your heart beats.

Suguru.

Your lungs expand.

Inhale.

Your muscles tighten.

Exhale.

“Suguru,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, angel.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Cum for me.”

Flames tear across your skin as everything goes white. Wave after wave of warmth crashes over you, your entire body convulsing under its weight.

Suguru.

Suguru.

Suguru.

A mantra.

Suguru.

A plea.

Suguru.

A prayer.

Suguru.

On the other end of the line, ragged breaths echo through his empty room as he releases onto his abdomen, coating his skin. And yet, he finds himself wishing it was your hand stroking his aching cock instead, your lips there to lap up his seed, your cunt there to milk him until you’re leaking with proof of his devotion. God, he fucking misses you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you find yourself babbling.

Body spent, you collapse onto the bed, now cool with sweat. Your thoughts still swim, treading through the waters of Suguru.

A chuckle breaks the silence of the call.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be thanking me just yet, angel,” he hums.

Your breathing picks up its pace, heart pounding loudly.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Oh, you poor thing. Have you forgotten already?” he hums.

Inhale.

“You still broke the rules.”

Exhale.

“And disobedience deserves to be punished.”

Suguru.

[homemadesterekpie]

there’s something about the concept of Stiles joining Derek’s pack and over time becoming more wolf than human even if he remains technically a human, that i absolutely love… so here’s a little something about that.

losing his entire family transforms Derek into someone more primitive, more feral, parts of himself that had been buried under years of masking when living out alongside humans are now back with a vengeance.

his mother always believed in living a double life, living the best of both worlds and Derek always thought the same but then his entire family burned to death.

now he wants to live as a wolf. let the wolf to the forefront and take the lead. doesn’t mean he’s in wolf form all the time it just means he’s letting his instincts take control and he stops second guessing them.

Stiles joins his pack pretty early on because Scott has a death wish apparently and Stiles does not want to die thank you very much.

he starts spending all of his time with Derek and the betas, in the forest. his dad starts asking questions because Stiles is not even there for supper when he’s off duty anymore and he’s almost never in his bed in the morning either.

Stiles can’t sleep without Derek anymore. his room smells wrong. his own bed feels wrong to sleep on. the entire house smells wrong. his dad is never home anyway.

at school he keeps zoning out while looking outside the window, into the forest. non-packmates brush against him in the halls and he has to make a giant effort not to snarl at them.

Isaac, Erica and Boyd become his shadows. during lunch they leave the school grounds and run into the forest doing God knows what. the school starts talking, the sheriff gets informed. Scott gets told.

they both corner Stiles when he gets back from school along with Isaac, Erica and Boyd.

Stiles sighs through his nose when he sees Scott’s bike and the cruiser in the driveway. he looks to the three wolves and they look back. they haven’t needed to use words in a while.

they follow him inside the house that hasn’t felt like home to Stiles in some time now.

Scott is pissed the wolves came along, the sheriff doesn’t understand. he asks if they’re Stiles’s new friends and that maybe they aren’t a good influence on him, which provokes some low growls from the wolves. Isaac taking one of Stiles’s wrists in one hand and pulling slightly with a short whine.

Stiles soothes him with a touch and huff through his nose. won’t be long.

Stiles tells his dad that his grades are fine so whats the problem. his dad is a bit stunned. Scott is so red he looks like he’ll explode at any moment.

his dad says he’s just worried about him and Scott nods along. Stiles says he’s fine and that they don’t need to worry about him. they just need to let him be.

the sheriff kind of panics because it feels a lot like he’s losing control of his kid. like he’s actively losing him somehow. but he can’t pinpoint exactly why so he just deflates in defeat.

Stiles says again he doesn’t have to worry about him and with that he goes upstairs to his room to grab what he had come here for and then he’s out of the door, his wolves leading the way, leaving a livid Scott and a shook sheriff behind.

Scott comes out the door and shouts things at Stiles. Stiles doesn’t even look his way as he gets into his jeep and backs out the driveway.

when they get to the forest, Stiles hugs Derek tightly and lets him nuzzle his neck, his hair. Putting his scent back on him. he tells Derek what happened. Derek just looks at him, intently.

Stiles tells him he doesn’t want to leave anymore. he wants to stay here. with Derek. with the betas. that going into town doesn’t feel right anymore. and he gets upset as he tries to explain to Derek why he can’t be out there anymore.

Derek just pulls him into his arms and makes the low rumbling noise he makes whenever Stiles or one of his wolves are upset and need to be soothed.

Stiles clings to him. his alpha. staying away from him for too long is becoming painful. the betas can feel it too. the stronger their pack gets, the harder it is to be apart. being with the betas at school is just enough to keep them all sane.

the day Stiles turns 18, he moves out of the house and into the forest. the betas + Peter helps with the move. he moves out while his dad is at work and he gets home to his son’s room stripped of everything except furniture and a letter on the bare mattress.

Stiles’ words tells him not to worry about him and that he’s not far. that Stiles loves him but he needs to do this. that Stiles will keep an eye on him so not to do anything stupid.

the sheriff wonders around the house feeling numb until he notices the framed picture of him and Stiles when he was still a child, is missing from its frame on the wall. Stiles obviously took it with him. and thats what breaks him. he’s upset but that small gesture gives him hope. hope that his son is not completely lost to him.

the pack builds themselves a life out in the forest. they barely leave it now. only when Stiles wants to check on his dad or pack matters require them to leave it.

Scott follows Allison and her family out of state after Derek’s pack make a formal request. No hunters will be permitted to enter much less reside on Hale lands without explicit permission from the pack. Chris Argent tries to negotiate but the mated Alpha pair is adamant. either they leave their territory or they’ll be made to leave it.

Stiles sets up protective runes around his childhood home. the best ones he’s got. and he leaves an amulet on his dad’s bedside table and a note that says to put it on and never take it off. the sheriff does as he’s told without question.

by now he’s used to his son doing things from the shadows. he barely sees him but he also feels near at all times. like he’s always there, watching over him. like he said he would.

sometimes he finds baskets of stuff on his porch when he gets back from a long shift. some seasonal produce, fresh game, the occasional preserves and pickles. there’s no note usually but he knows who leaves them.

when he unpacks the baskets he leaves them back out on the porch to be picked up again.

sometimes he can hear howls from the forest. it took him a long time to finally understand what they meant, since after all, there’s no wolves in California.

Stiles is part of something old. so old it’s actually ancient. and sacred. something that has its own culture and rules. something he will never fully understand. but he understands enough and it settles something in him that had been unsettled ever since that day him and Scott cornered Stiles after school.

[thewritingfairy]

↪ au: Poetic justice

Alternative ending to 04.1 Jason's crime I'll be honest I kept this one short mainly because this is a little bit darker then I usually write and idk if I should use a mature tag, because my original plan for this side story is a lot darker (I turned it down a lot). It might become a multiple part side story, depends if you guys like it. trigger warnings: medical + physical + emotional neglect, guilt, character death (semi-graphic suicide), gn reader (just pretend Reader is out in this au) main m.list          series m.list

‘I’m sorry mama.

It hurts, so much. I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too much, I can’t go on like this, but I know you didn’t me to turn out this way. But I can’t go back. This is the end, and all I do is listen to them.

I am scared of what will happen if I don’t, I’m so terrified mama. I can’t go on like this, but if I do this, isn’t it the easy way out? Especially for them? Wouldn’t I just be giving them what they want? A life without me? Oh, mama, how I wish you were here to guide me, to teach me, to talk me through this. To tell me what I can do.

At least I did what you taught me, I documented everything from the moment I could grab my phone. I took pictures of the injuries he gave me, I did as you taught me, but having these like a card up my sleeve isn’t enough. I want to die, but not just kill myself and leave a note. No, I want to explode this all in Bruce’s face. I want him to feel the hurt I feel.

I want him to burn here on earth and on hell.

That is the justice I want, it’s the justice I need. So I made a plan, you’ll be mad when we meet again. I know it, but you’ll understand. Won’t you, mama? I tried for so long, and this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Once I am done I hope the find this diary. I hope that they know that I am dead because of them all.’

You sigh, you hadn’t written in your diary for a while, not since the attack. But today your ‘family’ isn’t here.

Today you are doing what you should have done the day your mama died. But you aren’t leaving before pulling the manor down with you, you had created a social media account that quickly garnered followers. Mainly from school, they all wanted to know more about you. They want to know why you aren’t attending classes, and they’ll learn.

It will shatter their hope to know that the Wayne family isn’t as squeaky clean as everyone thinks they are.

You will shatter Gotham’s perspective the moment your timed camera and social media posts hit the decks. You just need to move fast, you had already gotten everything ready, Jason’s clothes are sturdy and make for a good make-shift rope, and won’t it be poetic? Beaten to the point that scars have already began to form, and now you’ll die at the hands of his clothes wrapped around your neck.

Just like his hands were that day.

But this time it won’t be in your room, no, even if your room was now a creepy replica of your original one, you won’t defile it. You’ll do it right here in the living room, the room your family met up in the most and the room you avoided the most.

Your hands shaking as you stand up on the stool, there is no time to turn back.

You close your eyes and as you feel life slip away from you, and when you feel it get closer? You smile.

The Bat Family knows death like it’s their closest friend, Jason specifically, having been in heaven after all. But when he arrives at the manor, waiting for a debrief, he realises he’ll never go there again.

Because here he stands frozen, in front of the sibling he had harmed, they were just hanging there. Oh god, what has he done? Tears roll down his eyes as he walks towards them. Completely unaware of his surroundings, not even noticing that a camera is rolling, that sirens are slowly surrounding the manor. He should consider himself luckily that he had already changed in sweatpants, no sign of his Red Hood gear. Otherwise he had to explain more than just their wounds.

The closer he got to them, the more his surroundings seem to disappear. The more he doesn’t notice, the others had rushed in the room after hearing the sirens and getting an alert from Barbara that (Name) leaked the situation on the internet, with proof. Bruce had lied to her, he said it was just a small situation. Shouting over the comms to demand the truth, is it all true? Did they truly do this her? But it doesn’t matter, Jason did this. He pushed them to their death.

“Oh God,” he chokes out, as he finally reaches his arms out to touch your body. As he finally takes in your expression. You’re smiling, as if you are glad. As if you are finally safe. He did this. He did this to you. “I’m sorry, what have I done….”

He falls to his knees, his head touching the ground as his sobs echo in the room. But his pity party didn’t last for long, no. Before he could reach for your body and beg for forgiveness Tim pushes him away from your body, angry tears streaming down his face. “You don’t get to touch them.” His voice was shaking, his body rigid and tense. He was on the defensive. Tim seems deluded as he shouts, pointing at them all; “None of you get to touch them!”

Tears streaming down his face as he screams once more; “What have we done?!” (Oh, would this have been him if Bruce hadn’t saved him?) His thoughts torture him and all he could do was pull on his hair, almost tearing it out as he swears he can see your body move. Your smile turning sour the longer he looks at your face. As if you’re telling him; ‘Oh, Tim, couldn’t you do this for me when I was alive? Couldn't you have defended me before?’

Then Tim’s eyes widen, what if you can still be saved, what if he can still turn your faith around?

If you were saved, would his complicity be forgiven?

He works quick, taking your body down as he tries to save you. But your body is already getting cold, it’s too late, but he doesn’t care. He needs you to open your eyes, he needs to ask for forgiveness, he needs to turn your faith around.

You needed someone in your corner, he shouldn’t have been complicate, he should have saved you. That's what Red Robin's for, to protect those that couldn't protect themselves. And he had left you behind, the person that saved him, the person that could relate to him the most. And he never let you in.

He didn’t even notice he was hyperventilating until Bruce pulled him away from your body as paramedics rush into the room. Bruce holds Tim in a bruising hug, almost as if he's terrified Tim would die too. His eyes shot up to where his other siblings were, their eyes terrified. Their eyes looking at your body as if it was all a dream.

Then it all became real.

You are pronounced dead.

And a dread settles upon them all.

They, who are Gotham’s protectors, killed a civilian.

They were the cause of a death of someone they vowed to protect. All because of their own ignorance.

as I said before if you guys like this I'll make it in a bigger side story, but it would get a new taglist and it's own masterlist. For this chapter I'll use the taglist for Nobody's child.

taglist (Nobody's child): @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[4rticbolt]

Sub-Tastic? |Master-List|

Zoro, Law, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy x !Fem!Reader, fluff, smut, crack, NSFW, SFW, dacryphillia, fingering, riding, possessiveness

Summary: Headcannons with a loud, chaotic, and mouthy s/o who’s submissive in the bedroom. Plus PDA headcannon’s.

A/N: This is my first time delving into NSFW, so it’s gonna look a bit scratchy. And i’m not completely there with writing it yet, so I’ll be sticking to these type of head-cannons for now.

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

Trafalgar Law:

• Law would 100% love it.

• He has a dominant undertone, and a sub-like dynamic would work well with his possessiveness.

• At first, he’s used to your chaotic nature. Though, when things take an intimate turn, and you get vulnerable and quiet—he thinks you’re scared. He thinks you’re timid, so he doesn’t push, and he backs off. But, as soon as Law finds out you liked getting like that? OOH—prepare yourself.

• He’s quick to test out how far you’d go.

• Law’s into a little teasing here and there, but not much. Maybe a flicker of degrading, but he wouldn’t go down that route unless you wanted to.

“What happened to acting tough, huh? Where’d that strong girl go?”

“Oh, so you can be such a pain in my ass, but here you are getting all soft? Real adorable, ____.”

• If you ever got quiet or flustered, attempting to hide, it’s not happening. This man wants to see ALL of you, even the flustered bits.

“Don’t hide from me, I wanna see you.”

“Look at me.”

• Later in the relationship, he’d be much more commanding, but that’s only after he adjusts to this new you. He doesn’t hate it, he loves it, he just hates overstepping boundaries and moving too fast.

“Take it off.”

“Turn over.”

“Knees.”

• He could definitely be a lot at times—but wouldn’t we love that.

• Law’s a secluded and protective person, so he doesn’t necessarily care for PDA. You’d have to be the one to initiate it, even if it’s just a held assurance or hug.

• Law would blush, momentarily freezing before tilting his hat to cover his face.

“You’re so clingy . . .”

• His favorite position would have to do with facing you in his room, or in his bed. That possessiveness kicks in, and he wants to be the ONLY one who sees you like that. Much less hear.

• Dacryphillia is his guilty pleasure, it gives him an ego boost he’ll never admit to.

• You’re definitely having a safe word.

• Law initiates intimacy when it’s right, he doesn’t do it out of causality, but pure need. After a fight, or argument, his hands would linger, longer.

• However, if there was a time at dinner where YOU, were the one to initiate it? Sending him a look? He might just perish. He’d choke on his water and excuse himself, making sure to excuse you too.

• There’d be a lot of overstimulation that night.

• Law would play it off, but you getting worked up works him up. He has a hard-time letting go when you’re horny.

• A position that would put him in a choke-hold, would be riding. He’d push up into you, feeling you lean on him, and—gods, this man would have a hard time keeping his hands off you.

• In general, Law loves pinning your hands over your head, and you get bonus points if you squirm.

“Fuck, keep still—I can’t,”

• His pace would stutter, and you getting handsier makes him weak.

• Law loves marking you up. It’d be in more discreet places, but the next morning you’d be questioning how hungry he was.

• Hickeys would be placed along the inner of your thighs, hips, stomach—breasts, anywhere that is hidden underneath your clothes.

• He’d be snarky about it too. If you’re annoying him, or teasing him, he’d prod a certain spot marking your reaction.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You asked for it.”

Roronoa Zoro:

• Zoro would 100% fw it.

• He is dominant, with at times a cocky attitude—so he’d be a good match. The swordsman isn’t experienced, but he’s quick to learn when it comes to making you feel good.

• Zoro might not understand it at first, he’d call you shy, maybe tease you for it, but once he realized you like having that dynamic? Yeah, no, you’re in for it more than you are Law.

“You like that? Being told what to do?”

“Say it again.”

• The crowsnest is your new favorite place.

• He’s definitely rough with you, especially when it comes to walls. But, at times he can be sweet and gentle. He’s a softie at heart, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you around.

• Zoro’s favorite position is riding or doing it against something. Either way, he’s just going at it.

“Move your hand.”

“You can take more.”

“Come on baby, you got it.” / “Let me hear you.”

• If you got all whiny? Yeahh, he’s a happy man. To him, it just means you like it, so he’s gonna make you like that a LOT.

• Teasing? He loves it. Zoro likes watching your face get red, and he isn’t ashamed when he does. A soft smirk, with a whisper in your ear would do it. Especially at dinner—or lunch-time, somewhere where he KNOWS he can get you good.

“You’re lucky I like you like that. All quiet and sweet for me.”

“Worried they heard you? Yeah, you were pretty loud.”

• He’d be such a little shit abt it, and worst case was you could never get him back.

• Manhandling. Zoro is just constantly doing it. Grabbing you, pulling you out of the way, dragging you off somewhere, it’s a causal thing between you. Especially in the bedroom.

• Normally, Zoro would be the one to initiate sex, but if there was ever a time it was the other way around? It’d take a moment to recover.

• He’d blush, pause, before smirking and getting in your space. Yeah, you would NOT be in control for long.

“Acting all tough, huh? You won’t even last a few minutes.”

“Don’t run from me, you started this.”

• PDA with Zoro isn’t often. He’s not against it or anything, it just really messes with him. It’s the only time you can get him back for something, because he’ll blush—and try to ignore you, but fail.

• However, if someone’s looking at you? There’s an arm around your waist at all times. Even a begrudging hand-hold every now and then.

• Intimacy with Zoro is sweet, sensual, and deep. He’s the only one who ever sees you like that—and he wants to keep it that way.

• You’re Zoro’s soft spot, and he’s very protective, especially if he’s seen you so wrecked . . . So, at times, it reminds him you’re not the loud rambunctious person you convince yourself to be.

• It triggers something instinctual with the way he acts, and he can’t help it. You’re his, and that’s all there is to it.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now . . . Ugh, fine. Just come here.”

Sanji:

• The cook’s folding first.

• He’s a definite switch, not overly experienced, but he knows what he’s doing.

• Sanji is naturally attentive to begin with, so he picks up on things fast. He he loves to shower you with compliments, and he likes to pick at you, so it wasn’t hard to figure out.

• He LOVES your noises, and he’ll do anything for you to make them.

“Oh, cherie, please don’t hide that from me.”

“Do that again, please.”

“Do you know what you do to me?”

• Sanji is talking you through it the long way, and he’s not stopping till you’re spent. He needs every sound, everything word—just everything.

“You’re too sweet. I’m gonna ruin you.”

• If you ever said his name all whiny and whimpery, he might just pass out. Immediate nosebleed, immediate sit down, it takes him a second to recover.

“Say it again—mom cœur—please, say it again.”

• His fav position is smth like mating press, or just a casual lift to the leg while he looks down at you.

• Sanji loves watching, even when your embarrassed or overwhelmed. Anything is everything to him.

• The cook’s a hand holder, especially over your head or beside it. It’s comforting for him, and it has a lot to do with his gentle charisma. His hands would be running all over you; needing, massaging, holding, as it’s a reminder you’re here, and he isn’t dreaming. Pervertedly anyway.

“You’re so soft, love.”

“So pretty.”

“You’re so tight, baby.”

• And if you ever begged him? He’s losing it to that too. He whimpers, and in that scenario—he’s leaning into the crook of your neck mumbling something intelligible.

“Mmh, love you so so much.”

“You’re too good for me love, don’t beg. I’ll give you anything you want.”

• Sanji’s down for more sensual sex, so I don’t see him doing a quickie or anything rough. He’s very careful with you, and he’s adamant of showering you with love, so something like that isn’t the way for him to do it. (Sorry, I can’t see Sanji ever being rough with a woman, I mean look at him. He’s a lovable loser.)

• You might be able to sneak some time into the kitchen, or in your room (that’s if you have one), but regardless, to him: all that matters is you. So wherever there’s privacy, there’s an optional spot.

• Overall, Sanji’s pathetic for his s/o, so anything you’d ask of him—he’d do.

• This man has hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you. “Can I get you anything my sweet?”

Usopp:

• Despite Usopp’s shyness and inexperience, he’d love it. Maybe even more than Sanji.

• He’s not possessive like Law, or rough like Zoro, but he is obsessed. Not in a yandere way, just in an innocent and sweet one. He just loves the thought of him making you like that, and he just can’t get enough of it.

• Usopp is not very dominant himself, but if you were ever submissive enough to that point, he’d become an accidental dom. He’d do a lot of things he wouldn’t even realize he’s doing, like man-handling and pushing you down, and still asking if you’re okay.

• Like, where’d that pushover behavior go??

• Usopp doesn’t know what he’s doing, imma be real. He’s a total virgin, and you might need to guide him. But once he finds your spots, yeahh he’s not ever forgetting them.

“You okay? Good, yeah—that’s good, I got you.”

“You sound so pretty.”

• Most things are your ideas and preferences. He runs on your schedule, and has a constant fear of pressuring you. He knows you’re a bit quiet and subtle—and he’s exactly the same.

• Though, when he wants to do something, it’s clear but hinted. He stares, a lot. Without even realizing, and it’s kinda pathetic.

• He definitely zones out. But, who doesn’t love a pathetic smitten, sniper. A win is a win.

“Huh? What are you talking about! I’m not looking at you—I’m uh, looking at the uh—floor! Yeah, counting grooves, yeah, that’s it. Grooves—oh look over there! Haha—anyways!”

• Usopp doesn’t really tease, if anything he freaks out. Mostly on the inside, but sometimes on the outside. Like if you’d melted, or grabbed a sensitive spot when you’re cuddling? Pfft—yeah he’s a blushing mess.

• Even during sex.

• Usopp’s incredibly gentle and tender, even if you want it rough. He’s hesitant, but it’s not because he doesn’t want to do anything with you, it’s just because he’s scared of doing something wrong.

• But if you were whimpery? That might just fix that. It gives him an ego boost, much like Law, but it’s also comforting because he knows what he’s doing is making you feel good.

• He’d get all mushy, and upfront, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer while he works his fingers. Speaking of, that’s one of his favorite things to do, he loves how you feel.

• He loves holding your waist, especially rubbing along your sides where he can see your breasts and face.

• When Usopp gets flustered, it’s by the simplest of things. If you were to causally lean against him? Holding his hand? Immediate blush. Or if you say something unriconically sweet, he���s overloadfully timid.

“Ugh, ___, you’re too good to me. Why are you . . . so sweet?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“Don’t make that noise—you’re so weird!”

• He’s lying, he loves it. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it. The sniper would never get sick of it.

• Usopp is chill with PDA, he’s touchy touchy believe it or not, even if he’s self-conscious when you do it. A gentle hand would hold yours, or a comforting arm would rest on your shoulders as you walk through public.

• Usopp casually calls you his, he loves showing you off. Not in a trophy-like way, but in a way he’s proud of who he’s with.

“My ____? She’s great! She’s like—really sweet, loud sometimes, but she’s the best!”

“You’re no match for my girlfriend! She’d kick your ass in an instant!”

• He’s speaks very highly of you.

Luffy:

• Wouldn’t expect it from you, but his reaction would be very Luffy. It’d be causal, blunt, sweet—chaotic—you name it, he’s liking it either way.

“Why are you so quiet? Do you . . . oh.”

• It’d definitely be a good match with him.

• Luffy wouldn’t be necessarily rough, I mean, if you asked he’d be like: “I can do that!” and there you go, but he’s a possessive switch. Regardless, he loves making you feel good no matter the dynamics.

• Your captain’s a sucker for your pathetic reactions, and he’s not afraid to manhandle you.

• Luffy doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s gonna act like he is, but he’s inexperienced. You have a lot of questionable and confused moments, though they end up sweet and dorky in the end.

• He’s just a bunch of rubber you’ll love anyways—so it doesn’t really matter. But he does know the gist of intimacy, he’s not completely stupid. Most of the time anyways.

• I don’t see him making any moves at FIRST, but when it happens—it just does. It’s like his sleep schedule, whenever he’s sleepy—he’ll sleep. But, whenever he’s horny, he just is.

• When he’s in the mood, he’s much more touchy, and it’s probably when you’re cuddling. Or he’ll just say something out of the blue.

“I wanna do somethin.”

“M’wanna touch you.”

• It’s mumbled in your chest, or while he’s kissing you, there’s no in between.

• Luffy loves your noises, and only wants them for himself. He’s not the jealous type, but you? Your his, and only his. So only he wants to hear those noises.

“You sound so pretty, do that again.”

“Shh, don’t want anyone else to hear you.”

• His hand would cover your mouth, grabbing and tilting it however he wants it, making sure your looking where he wants you to.

• He’s very handsy, if you haven’t noticed.

• Luffy can be really tender. He’s not all the way across the line of being gentle, because he can get really fast, but cuddly sex is the most you’ll get out of him.

• He’s for whatever positions you are, and he’s really just taking you from wherever. Behind you, infront of you, on the side of you—he literally can’t get enough.

• Luffy is the type to shift mid-way and find a better angle to get at you, so yeah, I’d personally be prepared for a long night. He has a lot of stamina, even if you make him a little weak in the knees.

• He’s 100% an eater, he def craves it. And he isn’t afraid of showing it. From the back—or front, he just loves you all around.

“You taste so good.”

“So wet for me.”

• He ironically has a dirty mouth, but that’s just because he’s blunt and too honest. So most things sound impulsive, but he means it, and there’s no apology or embarrassment for it.

• Luffy loves PDA. Not to the point of kissing you in public, but there’d be a quick peck to the cheek or head. He loves dragging you around, from carrying you on his shoulder, or pulling you by your hand.

“Oi! Come on let’s go—you’re so slow!”

• Much like Usopp, Luffy is very proud of you. He’s proud of who he’s with—as all the one piece men would be, but Luffy especially.

“Shishi! She’s the best, you should meet her sometime! She makes the best snacks!”

“____ goes on adventures with me all the time, we find the coolest stuff—“

• Definitely blabbers on about you.

[malsmind]

vampire!chris 𝘢𝘯𝘥 bsf!reader 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵

🕸 - content warnings: ★ underage drinking ★ smoking weed ★ mentions of blood/drinking blood ★ fingering ★ public ★ pet names ★ dirty talk ★ eating pussy ★

the night was strange from the start. the group had all been laughing earlier, walking through the fields after some late-night adventure, when matt and your best friend suddenly disappeared. one second they were behind you, the next, gone — no shouts, no warning, just silence. you called their names. nothing. maybe they went off to be alone. maybe it was something else. but the unease lingered. so everyone went home, you and chris did too. the mood soured, the energy gone. and now you’re on the bus, the only two left from the group — you and chris.

he’s sitting next to you, thigh pressed firm against yours, head leaned slightly against the window. the bus is mostly empty, only a couple people scattered in the front, the driver focused on the road ahead. you’re curled up next to him, the streetlights flickering past, casting shadows across his sharp jawline. chris hasn’t said much. his energy tonight is tense — his shoulders tight, jaw clenched. you notice how his hand keeps tapping against his thigh. nervous. distracted. his eyes are darker than usual, less shiny blue and more… something else. deeper. hungrier. you reach over and touch his arm gently.

“you okay?” you ask, voice soft in the quiet.

he turns to you slowly, his lips quirking into that half-smile you know too well.

“just thinking,” he says. “about matt. about where he went. what he’s doing.”

you know what he means without him saying it. what matt might do. despite his issues with controlling his anger, he was good at controlling the hunger for blood deep within him. but there was always a chance he'd lose it. he could get messy, both of them could, but chris had all his focus on controlling it, even when it was hard, almost impossible. matt didn't care. if he was lost in it, he was really lost in it.

“you think he’ll lose control?” you whisper.

chris doesn’t answer right away. he just looks at you, eyes flicking down your face, tracing your features.

“i dunno.” he says finally, “he might.”

you rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent — something dark, crisp, something that’s always made your skin warm. even now, with the nerves crawling down your spine, there’s something safe about his presence. something addicting. he shifts slightly, his hand dropping to your leg, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. you glance down, realizing just how high your loose sleep shorts have ridden up. it’s summer. hot, humid, late. chris just needed something to distract him from his thoughts. his brothers business was his business, if it came to something like this. potentially getting caught, exposed. the truth getting out there was something they couldn't risk, they both knew that, but again, matt was like a ticking time bomb, ready to ruin everything they'd worked on keeping a secret.

“chris,” you murmur, a warning laced in the way his hand starts to slide higher. “we’re in public.”

he smirks without looking at you, his fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles against your inner thigh.

“and?” he murmurs. “bus 's empty back here.”

your breath catches. you try to close your legs, but his hand stays firm, keeping them just slightly parted. his mouth finds your neck — warm lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against the skin there, just beneath your jaw. you shiver as his breath ghosts over you.

“you smell so good tonight,” he whispers. “you always do, but right now... shit baby...”

you know what he means. not perfume. not sweat. your blood. your pulse. the ache between your legs he can almost feel. you don't know what changed, when exactly it did, but chris has been having a hard time getting his mind off of the natural lust for blood. he'd never hurt you, never do it, never even think of drinking your blood. he didn't want to, because he knew what would happen if he ever sunk his teeth into you like that. he'd avoid you when it got too much, which you understood, but something about the idea of giving him what he so badly craved was always occupying your mind.

his fingers trail further, teasing the edge of your panties, brushing just barely over the damp fabric.

“chris,” you hiss, grabbing his wrist, your grip tight. “someone could see—”

“no one’s watching,” he says, voice a low rasp now. “and i need to touch you. just for a little.”

his fingers push under the fabric. and he finds you instantly — warm, slick, already pulsing for him. your breath leaves you in a sharp exhale. you clutch his wrist harder, but you’re not stopping him. his face is still buried in your neck, kissing slow and open as his fingers slide through your wetness. he groans softly against your skin.

“fuck, baby. you’re already this wet?” he mutters. “from just this?”

you’re melting into him, hips twitching, trying not to move too much. you can’t make noise. can’t draw attention. but every flick of his fingers — slow and calculated — makes your stomach tighten. you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut, trying to breathe steady. but it’s impossible. his fingers slide inside you, two of them, stretching you just right as his palm presses into your clit. the pace is slow. tormenting. he knows exactly how to work your body, how to push you just close enough to the edge without letting you fall.

“you’re holding back,” he whispers, licking a stripe up your throat. “trying so hard to be good.”

you grip his wrist tighter, nails digging into his skin, and he just moans into your neck, loving how much you’re struggling not to lose control. it’s not even about teasing anymore — he’s trying to calm himself, keep that vampire part of him on a leash, the one that gets so fucking high off your arousal. when the bus finally jerks to a stop at your street, you’re breathless, legs weak, skin flushed. he pulls his hand away slowly, deliberately, and brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean like what he just did was the most normal thing ever. you can barely walk straight as you follow him off the bus.

he doesn’t speak as you make it home, fumbling for your keys, heart pounding in your ears. your parents are out of town — that fact practically blaring through your skull now. the moment the door shuts behind you, he’s on you. chris grabs you by the waist, spinning you toward the couch, and throws you down onto it without a word. his eyes are black now — not just from lust, but hunger.

“chris—” you start, but he’s already dropping to his knees between your legs, ripping your shorts and panties off in one rough motion.

“please don’t say anything,” he says, almost begging. “just… let me taste you.”

you nod once, breathless. and then he’s on you. his mouth is messy — nothing delicate about it, nothing soft. it’s tongue and lips and hunger, groaning into you like he can’t get enough, like he’s drowning in it. his hands are locked tight around your thighs, keeping you spread for him, pulling you closer as his tongue flicks over your clit fast and dirty, then slower, deeper — the kind of rhythm that drives you insane. he hums against you like it tastes like heaven.

“fuck, you’re sweet,” he groans, eyes flicking up to watch you squirm. “always so sweet for me.”

you’re a mess — hips jerking, hands tangled in his hair, your moans filling the empty living room. it builds fast, your second orgasm still aching beneath the surface from the bus ride.

“chris—oh my god—i’m gonna—”

“that's a good girl,” he mumbles, sucking hard on your clit. “cum f'me, cum on my tongue baby.”

and you do. hard. your whole body arches off the couch as you cum with a choked moan, the sound of it raw, helpless, dragged from somewhere deep. chris doesn’t stop until you physically push his head away, your body too sensitive to handle another second. he licks his lips, eyes still dark, still hungry. he crawls up your body, resting over you, his mouth slick with you, and kisses you deep — so you taste yourself on his tongue.

“feel better?” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

he nods, forehead pressed to yours.

“a little,” he mutters. “but i really wanna fuck you...”

you'd be in for a long night, but you didn't mind. you loved it. but maybe it was also to keep his mind off of things that'd have him worried up all night, to keep your own mind off of it...

♱ - @kittybitch @tits4matt @bgfshai @just-a-girl-1 @phonysuperstarr @sweetshuga @aflairforthedramattic @chrisbratt333 @courta13 @h3arts4nat @rizzgod12 @whore4chris @urlocallera @il0vey0um0st @slvtf0rchr1s @chrispycremedonut @oopsiedaisydeer @bluetalia @pair-of-pantaloons @dummyslut00 @chrissfavhoe @sturnsflirt @hello-emma @abbystromboli @y3sterdaysproblem @mi-co-uk @loser41ifee @emillionaireee @corpsebridedelrey @sturniolosssworld @certified-sturniolo @bluessturniolo @mattswifeyy @cass-sturn @tezzzzzzzz @ariasautumn @auttysturnz @mx7ka @backwardshatnick @applecidersturniolo @sturnsrecord @cass-sturn @matts-wife @chrattgetsmewetter @joanakaulitz @izzylovesmatt @mathewsmonkey @bgfshai @chrissfavhoe @herewegoagain-b @sturnslux3 @owensbabygirl

[satorella]

“𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆) 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

You watched as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of 𝐒𝐚𝐞’𝐬 temple. You guys have been at this for what felt like forever.

“You think you’re so fucking cool. Don’t you, Itoshi?” You taunted, with a mischievous grin forming on your face. “Just because I’m a girl, you think you’re better than me? I made it this far in the academy, same as you. Asshole.”

“You gonna keep hogging the ball, L/n? Hurry up and pass it to someone already so we can call it a day.” Sae sighs, his usual bored expression on his face.

His nonchalance spikes your goddamn blood pressure.

You grit your teeth, “Why? So you can just steal it from whichever loser teammate of mine? Fuck you.”

“Ah great, here we go again…” You hear the other players whine in the background.

That was the last time you saw Sae Itoshi, before you got scouted by your dream team overseas.

Madrid was quiet. Too quiet without you. He realized then, that the challenge wasn’t as fun anymore… if it wasn’t with you.

He wondered how you were doing. If you were happy with your new team and friends. If you were content with how your life was going right now.

If you’ve thought about him at all…

Wait. Is that what this feeling is? He misses you? Nah, can’t be him. You guys were rivals. You guys have hated each other since the day he arrived at the academy.

Well… you did, anyway. He never actually hated you. How could he, when you were the only form of entertainment he had there? The only one who could get his heart pumping… in more ways than one.

His thumb hovered over your contact.

Would you even answer?

Fuck it. Only one way to find out. And if you didn’t answer, he’ll just say it was a buttdial. Boom.

He pressed the call button.

After a few rings, you still hadn’t answered. Damnit, he shouldn’t have done this. He was about to cut off the call, when…

“Hello?” You finally answered, groggy from sleep.

He was silent for a second. He didn’t think you’d actually answer. But fuck did he feel a bit relieved.

“It’s me.” Was all he managed to get out. Idiot.

“Um, yeah? I know?” You pulled your phone away from your ear to double check the contact name. “Did I wake you?” He mentally facepalmed himself. He totally forgot about the different timezones.

You rolled onto your back and rubbed your eyes, “Y-Yeah…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry. I’ll let you go-”

“Did you need something, Sae?” You cut him off, surprisingly not wanting to end the conversation just yet.

He blinked up at the ceiling. This was the first time he’s ever heard you call him by his first name, or spoken to him in a softer tone in general…

“Sae?” You called out to him again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “How’s your new team?” He clears his throat, his usual stoic tone returning. Though it didn’t annoy you this time.

You sat up in bed, fully awake now. “Good enough for me, as I knew they would be. My dream team after all, heh.” He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. Good, you were happy.

“What about you? How are things?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Honestly? Boring.” He sighed. “How so?” “No one challenges me anymore. Not like you.” He spoke before thinking his words through. “Oh? Don’t tell me you miss me.” You joked. “I do.” He says bluntly. Your eyes widened, “I-I was kidding!” “I wasn’t.”

“…Did something happen, or?” You could hear your heart thumping in your chest. “No. Just wanted to hear your voice.” “You really don’t hold back, huh?” You chuckled awkwardly.

How were you supposed to respond? The guy hates your guts…

Right?

“Do you miss it?” He asked. “Eh? Miss what?” “Shit talking me every day. Glaring at me every chance you get.” He elaborates. You thought for a moment.

“Well I mean, my blood pressure doesn’t spike as much now that you aren’t around.” You joked again, “But… yeah. I miss beating you at your own game and all.” “Shut up,” He clicks his tongue, “I’m being serious.”

This conversation was making you… feel things. Things you tried to deny and hide away.

“…Yeah. I do kinda sorta… miss you. Just a teeny tiny bit. But don’t let that get to your head. Asshole.” Ah, and there it was. He was starting to think you’d gone soft.

“Come see me.” He blurted. Shit.

“W-What?” You tried not to sound surprised. “It’s off-season. And you’re clearly not going anywhere or visiting your family. So come visit me instead. I’m sure the bartender at that one bar downtown would have a kick at seeing us together… not trying to kill each other for once.” The last part made you giggle.

Sae Itoshi actually managed to make you laugh. Not a menacing or angry laugh, but a cute laugh.

Maybe moving overseas did make you soft…

Or maybe missing you, made HIM soft?

When you didn’t say anything for a while, he spoke up again. “I just emailed you the plane ticket.” You blinked at nothing, “What?!” You quickly rolled out of bed, stumbled over to your desk, opened your laptop, and logged into your email.

Sure enough, there was an email from him. “S-Sae you didn’t have to pay for my- huh? Day after tomorrow?!” “It was the last and soonest flight. Perfect right?” You could tell he probably had a smug expression on his face right now. “I didn’t even say yes!” You scoffed. “True, but I knew you would have. Anyways, I’ll let you go back to bed now. See you on Friday.”

“W-Wait!” You quickly called out before he could hang up on you. “What?” “I, um…” He waited for you to continue, “…I-I hate you.”

He let out a barely there, soft chuckle.

“I hate you too, Y/n.”

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[munsonsmixtapes]

Eyes On Me

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Simon is more than happy to worship you after you tell him how nervous you are to sleep with him for the first time.

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (f receiving) body worship

Thanks @the-witty-pen-name for getting me to hop on the Ghost train!

You’re standing in Simon’s bathroom as you hype yourself up for what’s to come. You’re wearing the lingerie set you bought specifically for him but now that you have it on, you’re nervous that he’s not going to like it. This is going to be your first time together and you don’t know why you’re so anxious about it. 

Okay, maybe you do know. None of your partners have ever been able to make you come and even though you know it’s not your fault, you can’t help but feel like it is. You’ve spent so many dates, terrified to go to the next step and Simon has been the only person who’s been willing to take it slow. 

You’ve been on so many amazing dates in the past few months and after many makeout sessions in various rooms in either of your apartments that you’ve always cut short before going to the next step, you’re finally going to sleep together. 

You feel so lucky because he’s been nothing but a gentleman, going at your pace even though you know he’s been wanting more than you’ve given. He’s been a gentleman in every other area as well. He brings you flowers every time he sees you, he opens doors for you and even holds your hand or has his arm wrapped around you in some way since he always needs to be touching you. Not that you mind. You never mind. 

Your heart races in your chest as you unlock the door and open it, shutting your eyes tight as you step into the bedroom. Simon is sitting on the bed and he can’t believe his eyes when he sees you. You look so-beautiful. He already can’t believe that out of all the men that you’ve probably got on speed dial that he’s the one you’ve chosen to spend your time with. And here and now, he’s convinced that he’s seeing an angel. 

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say as he lets his eyes slowly rake over your body. The dark blue looks so good on your skin and he doesn’t know why he’s embarrassed that he’s already hard just from looking at you. His eyes snap up to your face to see if you’re looking and is confused to see that your eyes are shut tight. 

“Why are your eyes closed, angel?” He asks, his voice soft. “Come here,” he reaches for your hands and pulls you to stand in front of him. His thumbs rub along your knuckles and that calms your anxiety just a bit. “Look at me, please.”

But you don’t look at him. You can’t. Your bare skin is burning under his gaze and you can’t get yourself to loosen up. Your shoulders are to your ears and your eyes are shut so tightly that you’re seeing stars. You want to let go, to show Simon a side of you that no one else has seen, but you just can’t. 

You’re getting frustrated and feel tears welling up in your eyes because you wanted this night to be perfect and now you’re ruining it with your insecurities. Your hands slip from his and you bring them up to your face so he can’t see you cry which seems pointless since you know that he’ll hear you anyway. 

“Oh, angel,” he says, his voice even softer than before as he stands. He pulls you into his arms as his hands move up and down your back just like always. It’s the thing that always soothes you. That mixed with the sweet words he says softly in your ear. “What’s going on, my love?” 

You can’t get yourself to tell him. The words will definitely sound silly when they’re said out loud, but you feel like telling Simon will ease your mind. He’s always so good at that. You pull back  and when your teary eyes look into his, he feels his heart break into a million pieces. 

“No one’s seen me like this in so long so I feel nervous.” the words sit between the two of you and you feel even more nervous when he doesn’t speak. He’s just trying to gather his thoughts. The news is surprising to him. He has no idea why someone wouldn’t want to take you to bed. You are the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he can’t believe that you chose him. 

“You have every right to be nervous,” he replies. “This is a big step we’re taking. If you’re not ready-”

“I am ready,” you cut him off. “I just-my past partners haven’t made me-” you cut yourself off, cringing at your words, but now that you’ve started your sentence, you have to finish it. It doesn’t seem like you need to since Simon nods, getting the gist.��

“You know that’s not your fault, right?” He asks, his hands caressing your face as the pads of his thumbs wipe away your tears. You nod as you bunch his shirt in your hands, leaning your head against his chest for a brief moment before looking up at him again. 

“I know it’s not my fault and I-I want to try if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, angel,” he smiles widely. “That’s more than okay with me.” He leans down, his lips slowly finding yours in a featherlight kiss. This is exactly what you’ve done plenty of times before. This is good. This is safe. This is comfortable. 

He takes it slow and you know it must be hard for him when you feel his bulge pressing up against you. You appreciate how gentle he’s being with you, that he’s willing to go at your pace despite how close he is to bursting. 

His hands move down to your waist as his tongue licks into your mouth. You moan into his mouth and he swears he’s going to come right there. You’ve moaned before, but not like this. It’s loud and breathy and desperate. God, you really have no idea how hot you are, do you?

“You’re killing me,” he says against your lips. First you wear this little thing and now you’re making those pretty sounds? It’s like you want me dead.” You’re pushing him towards the bed and moves with you, backing up until he falls onto the mattress. 

You’re standing in front of him and he pulls you to him, pressing feather light kisses to your stomach, letting his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties. He’s whispering the sweetest words against your skin and you feel yourself getting progressively more wet with each compliment. 

“So pretty,” Simon whispers against your stomach. “Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be able to see you like this.” You feel weak in your knees and he’s quick to pull you into his lap before lying you onto the bed. He stands up, hovering over you and seeing you like this, spreading your legs for him, seeing your soaking wet, underwear, god, you’re making him lose his fucking mind and you’re not even doing it on purpose. 

Simon gets onto his knees between your legs. He widens them even more before bringing his head between your thighs. He takes the waistband of your panties between his teeth and pulls them down your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time he does it. You’re looking at him with your mouth wide open like you can’t believe what he’s doing because you can’t. 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone before and for the first time, you’re actually excited for what’s to come. For the first time, this doesn’t feel like a performance with fake moans and orgasms just so you can rush out the door after it’s over. This time, you want to stay afterwards and have him hold you in his arms while he tells you how well you did. It all just sounds so perfect.

“Eyes on me, angel,” he says, his voice still so soft. “Wanna make you feel good. Is that okay?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but the way you’re looking at him, very enthusiastically, he knows it’s okay to continue. 

“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he says as he looks down at your cunt. You’re wet beyond belief and he feels honored to be the cause of it. He slowly raises his hand and brings it up to your cunt. His fingers slow inch inside and you can’t help but let out a noise. You’re not sure if it’s out of pleasure or pain but what you do know is that you need more. 

Simon keeps his eyes on yours as his fingers pump in and out. You’re tight and considering your inexperience, he’s trying to be gentle even though he wants to go harder, to make you come completely undone, to get your slick all over his fingers. He wants to bury his face between your thighs and devour you like a man starved. 

But he’s a gentleman so he’s going to be nice. He’s hard beyond belief watching you moan as his pumps get progressively faster. You look so pretty like this and he’s staring at you, so focused on your face as he takes a mental picture that he will definitely be using to get himself the next time he needs some relief. 

“Faster,” you whine, your head already spinning. He’s barely done anything and you already feel close. You’ve never gotten this far with fingers that weren’t your own and you don’t know why you ever doubted Simon. 

“As you wish,” he responds and as his pace picks up, you feel yourself start to loosen up, to enjoy what’s happening and not feel like it’s a chore. He continues to pump and brings his face down to your cunt, his lips inching towards your clit which he brings into his mouth, giving it a rough suck, chuckling as he hears you gasp. 

He continues to lick and suck on your clit as his fingers keep working, your moans encouraging him to keep going. As he focuses on your clit, his fingers slow to a stop before sliding out of you, Simon now dedicated to devouring you. 

He brings your legs to rest on his shoulders, still making sure that he can see you from where he is. Your back hits the bed as you throw your head back, your back arching in absolute pleasure. Once he’s happy with what he sees, he shoves his face into your cunt, his mouth moving down to your slit to give it some love, still licking and sucking before he gives the spot a bite to test the waters. 

Your thighs tighten against his head so he takes that as an invitation to do it again and again, repeating the motion until you’re screaming his name and even then he doesn’t stop because you just taste so good.

This is easily the best orgasm you’ve ever received and you apparently want him to know that with the way his name falls from your lips in a loud moan. You don’t know when your hands got into his hair but now they’re tugging on it as his head is still between your thighs. 

Simon pulls away with a wide smile, feeling a sense of pride not only for himself for being able to get you there, but also for you because you were able to let all the unease go, to let yourself feel pleasure. And he couldn’t be more proud of you.