𓏲 mooni — they/them twenty-three aroace neurodivergent clairo enthusiast bibliophile earl grey midnights autumnal weather a place for me to compile my favorite things ˖᯽ ݁˖
cw: yandere, implied noncon/dubcon themes, fem! reader, objectification, brief sexual content (oral f!receiving, dom, voyeurism, exhibitionism, power imbalance, minors do not interact
Thoughts <3 what the various Batfam will bring you after their missions:
Yandere! Bruce Wayne - he’s the kind of man who buys apologies wrapped in perfect little packaged boxes. When he’s been gone too long or unusually busy, he returns with offerings: silk lingerie, a new perfume, a pair of heels for some gala you’ll never attend. The excuse is always the same - a lingering threat in Gotham, as if danger were something that only prowled outside his mansion. Sometimes it’s a jeweled necklace, sometimes earrings, always accompanied by that quiet command that lingers in his stoic blue eyes to put them on - naked, of course. His gifts arrive too often, his words too few, like he’s trying to buy silence instead of forgiveness for holding you here.
Yandere! Dick Grayson - he’s never been one for store-bought things. He’s the present. The grin, the warmth, the solid body of muscle pressed between your thighs with strong hands that hold them wide open. He’s not like those men on Tinder who think pleasure is something transactional - he knows you, inside and out. He’ll devour you until your clit is sore and throbbing, until you’re thighs are trembling around him, struggling to stay open while laughing through tears because he doesn’t know how to stop until your cunt is sore for days. He says you taste like candy, sometimes like the metal tang of house keys, that taste always reassures him that he's home, nestled right between your thighs. At least he's a giver.
Yandere! Jason Todd - he brings you comfort food. Sweets, takeout, sometimes even a Happy Meal, though he’ll always eat a bite first just to make sure it's not poisoned or worse - razor blades somehow finding their way in. You’ll be halfway through your fries before he’s pulling you onto his lap, arms tight around your waist, mouth pressed to your neck until your skin blooms in bruises. You’ll protest that you’re trying to eat, but he only hums, low and possessive. Jason’s a man who doesn’t trust peace unless he can feel it breathing against him. He has so many issues - and you’ve become his favorite one.
Yandere! Tim Drake - he’s more meticulous with his affection. His gifts are deliberate, curated - things meant to frame you rather than free you. Flowers for a rose bath. A silk robe he’ll untie himself just to watch your tits bounce when freed. A stuffed animal to soften the image when he takes your picture. He tells himself it’s art, but it’s hunger wearing patience like a disguise. Greedy, yes - but gentler than the others. He won’t fuck you into submission; he’ll savor you, arrange you, capture you in moments that only he gets to keep. In the end, maybe that’s its own kind of mercy.
How would Jason react to neglected!reader having merch of him? (Specifically having just the fatson todd plush)
— masterlist !
a/n: if someone is willing enough to actually deliver me a fatson todd plushie, i will make out with you. my soul is yours.
"... my angel still loves me." lord, you don't even want to know just how much of a grand gesture — of owning merch of him, of owning a plushie, something you want to cuddle, one you have to actively find online, add to your cart, and cash out, waited patiently for it to be delivered — that is to jason.
he would shove it in the faces of your other family members. you chose to buy fatson todd. you probably sleep with it every night, that means you find comfort at the thought of him, do you not? no matter how degrading it is for jason todd to see someone making merch of him as some big, round, burger-hungry plush, whatever reaction he has is immediately thrown out the window the moment he sneaks into your apartment late at night just to see that cute little thing nudged in the corner of your bed, surrounded by blankets alongside a burger plush beside is— like you've been caring for the little thing as your own.
i mean, out of all the merch you could've bought, from the kiddie means in the bat burger chain near you, or some cheaply made plastic toy figurine of the other vigilante, you chose a fatson todd plushie off of some person promoting it on twitter— is that not a symbol of your love?
the others wouldn't react so well, though.
somehow, bruce and damian makes the biggest deal out of it. there's plenty of fluffy plushies of batman or robin in the market. bruce would love to see you cuddling a life-sized batman plush if it meant you'd eventually get used to hugging him instead. damian? damian doesn't see a point in you cuddling with that plushie when he's just as soft and malleable, and responsive to your affection instead of that round toy. dick, meanwhile, shares the same sentiment— that thing could only provide you so much warmth. being encased around his arms is even better, and you can listen to the fast pace of his heartbeat while at it, y'know?
tim, otherwise... he'd probably offer to buy you any plushie you want... it doesn't even have to be him. but as tempting as the offer sounds, you know he has some other trick up his sleeve — a camera integrated inside the soft plush, maybe a recorder, a tracker, ahah... — so you reject him because your fatson todd is enough comfort.
steph takes a distaste for the innocent little thing. at every moment she sees it, she'd somehow concoct the most vile, repulsive insults towards the poor ball of cotton and fabric. i mean, don't you want to settle for something better? like... her? i mean, she's a way better package than that sad little thing in the corner.
jason, amongst all the arguments, would just be exasperated, but he wouldn't really utter a word unless you'd be the one to decide on getting rid of the plushie just to shut the family up. but you're way too attached to the innocent plush— the sheer opposite of the man portrayed as its model.
to jason, maybe there's just the slightest pinch of hurt that you feel safer towards an inanimate thing dressed up as him rather than the real thing but... if it gets him one step closer to you— if it makes you tolerate the image of him for just the smallest bit, then he can settle.
It's not even something sexual—not at first, at least. And no, don’t call him a creep, okay?! He just… he just has emotional problems.
He likes to hold your clothes because he’s too scared to actually hold you. He’d rather hug your hoodie and cry himself to sleep when he sees you talking to someone else than ever confess how he feels. And yeah, he knows he can be mean sometimes, but like—what do you expect?? He can’t be obvious about it! So he just steals your clothes instead.
At first, it was just a sock.
Then a hoodie.
Then a bra…
Then panties…
But he returns them! He promises!
Maybe not now… but he will. After he confesses. After you smile at him and tell him you love him back. After you finally let him fuck you instead of him jerking off outside your window with your panties in his mouth, trying to stay quiet while you're bouncing on a custom-made dildo.
Yes, his exact size.
Yes, he got it made.
And yes, he broke into your place when you weren’t home and carefully tucked it into your closet, inside your little sex toy box.
💭 thinking about re9!Leon Kennedy threatening to shave his happy trail 18+ I’m insane about him oml
He’s standing at the foot of your queen-sized bed in a pair of boxers, having just gotten out of the shower. “I think I might need to shave this off soon, baby.” Your head instantly snaps up at his direction, dropping the book you were reading onto the mattress beside you.
You watch in silent horror as he runs his hand over the dark hairs that dust across his chest and down towards that delicious happy trail of his, his brows all pinched together in contemplation, even the thought of him considering it sent you into panic.
“Absolutely not. No,” you tell him, shaking your head in vehement protest as you shuffle to the end of the bed on your knees.
His eyes catch yours, and his frown softens into a grin. “Look at it, baby, it’s getting out of control down here.” He huffs in amusement, fingers still grazing over the coarse hairs, heart melting a little at the way your lips purse out into a frowny pout.
“It’s sexy, Leon.” You tell him, brushing his hands away from the sacred trail with a huff. “You’re not allowed to just shave it all off.” your fingers now toy with the waistband of his boxers.
He chuckles, cupping your cheeks between his big palms and tilting your head back. “Not allowed? What you gonna stop me?”
“No… but if you shave it off I-I-” you pause, wracking your sleepy brain for a suitable punishment, “I won’t have sex with you until it grows back.”
“Oh, fighting talk, huh? You wouldn’t last a week, babe.” He replies smugly, knowing for a fact that he’s not wrong. You barely survive when he gets pulled away by his ever-demanding job, always relying on those special homemade videos you both made.
You groan in frustration, and he coos down at you, running the pad of his thumb over your pouty lips to try and coax you to smile— but it doesn’t work, you seem genuinely heartbroken, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t amuse him just a little.
“C’mon… don’t look at me like that, baby, it needs taming.”
You don’t answer, but your expression turns determined. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you press a wet kiss right over the hard ridge of his abs. His fingers slip into your hair, tightening a little at the roots, your name catching in his chest as you drag your tongue back up his firm stomach.
“Oh Fuck-” his voice comes out hoarse, ragged.
“Promise me you won’t get rid of it.” You tell him, dragging sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down to his V-line, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you pull back, scowling at him. “Promise me, Leon.”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise… I’ll keep it, s’all yours gorgeous.” He breathes out heavily from above you, dick already hard and twitching to life against the thin fabric of his boxers.
“Good.” You beam up him happily, tugging the waistband of his boxers down a little further with a lick of your lips.
જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist
AN: is this a safe space to say I love big hairy men and women?
iwaizumi attacking you with wet kisses all over your face while you’re bathing in the sun after he comes out from the pool soaking wet.
you’re laying on a chair beside the pool, bathing in the sunny glow that graces your skin with a comforting warmth. not in the mood for a dip, you flip through the pages of your book leisurely as you enjoy the summer heat.
iwaizumi climbs up the ladder out of the pool, all done cooling off in the water. he grabs the neatly folded towel resting on the lounge chair saved for him right next to yours, quickly patting off the beads of water resting on his skin before ruffling the cloth through his short spiky hair. the view is nice. the summer view is nice too—the buzz of bees flying around and yellow dandelions scattered across the lawn—but the real view is the whole 179.3 centimeters standing tall next to you.
“why didn’t you join me in the water?” he asks, squinting as the sun hits his eyes.
“didn’t feel like getting wet,” you say, eyes still trained on the words on your page.
“i can get you wet,” he says with a cheeky grin, one that doesn’t falter even as you wack the book into his thigh.
he chuckles, leaning down and beginning to pepper wet open mouthed kisses all over your face. the water still remnant on his lips wipes all over you as he presses them on your cheeks, your forehead, your temple, your jaw, the tip of your nose, practically anywhere else he can reach, and then finally your lips.
in the midst of his banter you laugh, trying to fight him to no relent. “iwa, stop! you’re getting me all wet!”
“can’t help it. you look gorgeous in that bathing suit,” he murmurs, trying to find any sort of real estate he can to press his lips on.
you put the book down, using your hands to try and claw at his face and push it away. he’s too persistent in slobbering all over your face like a dog for your attempts to work, though. he just starts kissing your palms until they feel numb.
once he’s finally done attacking you with his kisses, he pulls away and simply stays there in front of you, leaning over the chair and grinning at you, his face not even inches away from yours.
“what?”
“nothing,” his teeth are still bared, his smile reaching from ear to ear.
“you’re grinning like an idiot for no reason. i don’t see what’s so funny.” with another scolding yet playful slap of your book to his leg, you open up the page you had dog eared and try to continue reading without his disruption.
to no surprise, it’s pointless as he continues to try and press as many of your buttons as he can. “you look really pretty under the sun.”
you glance up from the words on the page, mouth open and ready for a witty remark. you fall flat at the sight of him, though. the suds still on his face and the wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead make all of the blood in your body flood to your cheeks. every one of his perfections—because in your eyes he has no imperfections—are perfectly complimented by the sun’s rays that highlight his tan skin and the contours of his stupidly handsome face.
the thoughts rushing through your mind make you fall short, and the words you look pretty under the sun too almost slip out before you can catch them. you want to tell him that, but you’re supposed to be irritated with him for slobbering all over your face. sticking to the script, you just look away and try to focus on reading. but iwaizumi can tell you’re just lost in your thoughts when your gaze doesn’t move across the page.
you catch the way his grin fades into a more genuine smile of the sorts, one that shows he’s really happy over you becoming a blushing mess because of him and not just trying to tease you into oblivion.
from the spot in his own lounge chair that he’s taken while you’ve been processing what had just happened, you hear him speak. “join me in the pool now?”
that earns him a book thrown at the head and a loud, firm, no.
masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765
a/n: realistically i’d be in the pool playing mermaids but that’s besides the point.
no thoughts, just iwaizumi fucking you against your desk—you’re lying on top of your mounds of homework for uni, some papers crumpling from the movement, your computer in sleep mode from lack of use. your shorts and underwear decorate your ankle on the floor while your other leg is propped up on the chair, giving him that perfect angle to hit that sweet little spot that has you seeing stars and creaming all on him.
his hands grip your hips in a deliciously bruising hold as he fucks the stress out of you, whispering in your ear how you’re his smart girl who just works too damn hard. his smart girl who loves to go absolutely dumb from his fucking cock.
and when his smart girl is stressed… of course he’s gonna make you feel better.
“hajime—” your voice more of a breathy whine than a moan, “—fuck fuck—s’good, soo—ohh good.”
“yeah?” iwaizumi grabs a fistful of hair and pulls your head back to look at him. your eyes are glazed over in a beautiful, heady daze, reserved only for him. “am i fucking my princess dumb? can’t think about anything else?”
drool trickles down your chin as you babble out words you can barely articulate. “only you—fuck— oh my god… haji, ’m gonna—“
his hand comes down to your puffy little clit and rubs it just right for you to turn into a loud, whimpering mess. “c’mon—come for me, princess,” he groans, fucking you through it. he feels you clench around him, paired with a strangled, “‘m gonna make a mess! hajime!” before you finish—white clouding your vision. he groans as he nears his own finish, making sure you were finished with your own high before pulling out and jerking himself to come all over the swell of your ass.
and it’s been proven that every time he helps relieve your stress, you lock in and finish all your required assignments and get ahead on more. which, in turn, just means iwaizumi gets to tell you just how wonderful and smart his pretty girl is…
your eyes flutter open to rays of gold that shine through the hotel curtains. you rub the sleepy blur out of your gaze, shifting under the blankets and within iwaizumi’s arms to get a look at the time. it’s around 8:00 am, and your very first morning as a married woman. looking around to get a grip on your surroundings you find your white gown, a large pile of flowing silk and lace, jumbled up at the foot of the bed alongside your heels. iwaizumi’s tuxedo lays beside it in a messy heap, the pieces thrown haphazardly on the carpeted floor.
you feel iwaizumi shift beside you, slowly rousing awake himself. he hums and groans as he wraps his strong arms tighter around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. “‘morning, mrs. iwaizumi,” he rasps against your bare shoulder, his breath tickling your skin.
you smile at the name, turning yourself around in his hold to face him fully. his eyes are just opening, slits of olive green still clouded with the remnants of sleep. his expression is groggy and still not quiet awake yet, but it’s just as tender and loving as it always is. he lifts a gentle hand to tuck a few messy strands of hair behind your ear, the golden band around his ring finger catching the sunlight from the outside as he does so. it reminds you of the ring on your own finger—a similar golden band like his but adorned with a small diamond gem on top.
he shifts slightly to adjust his hold on you, his body visibly stiff and sore—no different from yours—as he moves. you get a glimpse at the large expanse of his toned back, littered with scratches all across his skin. yikes. you must have made a face, because iwaizumi follows your gaze to the streaks of red all along his muscles. he just smiles—a little amused—and shakes his head in a way that tells you it’s nothing to fuss over before pressing a chaste kiss to your temple reassuringly. he takes your hand into his, running his thumb along the cool band of metal on your finger in thought. you watch the dazed look in his eyes as his mind wanders, probably somewhere to the unfamiliar reality of him being a husband. your husband. he peppers your knuckles with light kisses before letting go of your hand to pull you impossibly closer to him. as nonchalant as iwaizumi can be, he holds you like he has the power to merge you two into one and has an awfully hard time letting go. his lips press against the top of your head, his words whispered against your scalp like a promise—a vow, “i love you.”
he pulls the covers higher over the two of you, trapping the heat from your bodies underneath the blankets and allowing you to bask in each other’s warmth. skin to skin, your legs tangle together with his and iwaizumi runs his hands up and down your bare back. every mindlessly traced circle and line leaves a warm feeling in its wake. the warmth comes with comfort, spurring from the knowledge that you’ll be able to have his hands on your back like this for as long as you continue to live. the drunken mess from last night is left scattered across the room and the sun rises higher to signal the beginning of the day ahead, but none of it really matters just yet. right now, it’s the intertwining of breaths and limbs and all in the present that means everything. the two of you—newly wedded today and forever each other’s in the future.
m.list | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @mires765 @amaliaaliena @nanasrkives @bakugouswaif @frozen-waffle
a/n: kept seeing videos of this trend and thought it was the perfect prompt for a fic. had to do it for my husband of course.
“The moment I met ya.” He lets out a yelp when you hit him, frowning. “Ow! Hey!” Rubbing at his shoulder, Atsumu pouts at you. “What was that for? It’s true!”
You raise a brow. “Really, ‘tsumu? The moment we met? C’mon!”
Tsumu grumbles, “I was tryna be romantic.”
“Yeah, well, I want a serious answer.”
Your boyfriend gives you a look, and you pout. “Cmon! I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
Tsumu blinks at you, you blink back, then you giggle and nod.
“Okay. Sure. Just tell me.” You see him grin, before a thoughtful look washes over his face. He’s serious, eyes glazing as he thinks back before he murmurs, “I realized when you showed up during one of my matches.”
You shoot him a confused look. “I always go to your matches?”
“No- I mean… remember when you were in Tokyo?”
“Mhm?”
“And you told me you weren't sure if you could go.”
your eyes glint with recognition, and softly you murmur, “Yeah. I remember that.”
“So when you showed up, in Argentina, wearing my jersey and holding a water bottle? Smiling and waving at me.” Atsumu smiles. It's one of the smiles that only you and his closest friends get to see. Wide smile, that softness in them? Your heart stutters.
“I knew I loved you then.”
You stare at him for a moment. Stunned into silence. He notices the silence immediately, eyes flickering over to you. “What?” He asks, suddenly sheepish, his ears flushing a dark shade at the look in your eyes. “Why’re ya lookin’ at me like that?”
“Beacuase.” You laugh weakly, lips curling into a soft smile. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Oi!”
“I’m joking– But still!”
Atsumu grumbles under his breath while you only giggle, the flush on his ears spreading to his cheeks. It only makes your chest warm even further as the memory clears in your mind.
The trip to Argentina was awful. The airport was shit. Delayed flights, barely any sleep, and you almost missed the match entirely because your taxi driver got lost. You’d shown up breathless and exhausted, hair messy from the flight, wearing Atsumu’s MSBY jersey over your clothes with a water bottle you’d bought on the way because you remembered he always forgot to hydrate after games.
You hadn’t even thought much about it. You just wanted to be there– because you knew it had been a while since you last saw each other and you knew how much that match meant to him.
“I remember you looked shocked,” you murmur softly.
“I was shocked,” Atsumu admits. “Yer text said ya couldn’t make it.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, ya almost killed me.” He snorts. “I looked into the crowd before warm-ups and suddenly there ya were.”
His voice softens.
“And, well, I dunno. Everythin’ just… settled.”
You blink slowly.
“I’d been nervous all week. Big match, lot of pressure, all that crap.” He shrugs. “But seein’ you there?”
A small smile pulls onto his lips again.
“It felt like home.”
Your chest aches painfully with affection.
“Tsumu…”
“And then afterward,” he continues, “I saw ya waitin’ for me outside with that stupid little sign—”
“It was not stupid!”
“It had glitter on it!”
“Because I love you!”
He laughs loudly at that, bright and warm, before leaning forward until his forehead rests against yours.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Exactly.”
Silence settles between you, comfortable and soft.
Then Atsumu grins suddenly.
“Yer turn now.”
You narrow your eyes, a smile at the corner of your lips. “No.”
“WHAT?!”
“I shared emotional vulnerability already by listening.”
“That is NOT how this works!”
You cackle as he dramatically tackles you against the couch cushions, whining about fairness while you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts.
And somewhere between his offended rambling and the way he clings to you like you might disappear, you think maybe you knew then too.
Maybe home had always been him.
Akaashi Keiji
“When I liked you?” He repeats, eyes blinking. When you nod, Keiji tilts his head in thought. “I… don’t think there’s a specific moment.” He murmurs.
“But, I remember the night I got home. And you weren’t there.”
Your brows furrow slightly at that. “What?”
“I had a really long day,” he says quietly, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns onto your arm. “A slow work day. Then suddenly a mountain of things to finish, so I had to stay later than usual for edits.” A small huff of amusement leaves him. “I remember unlocking my apartment and thinking about how annoying it was going to be to make dinner.”
You snort. “Wow. Romantic.”
Keiji’s lips twitch. “Let me finish.”
You gesture dramatically for him to continue, and he shakes his head fondly before going on.
“The apartment was dark. Quiet.” His voice softens. “And I remember standing there thinking that something felt… wrong.”
Your teasing smile slowly fades.
“Because by then, you’d started staying over a lot.” He glances down at you. “You’d leave your shoes by the door. Your hair ties on my sink. Half-drunk drinks on my table.”
“Hey—”
“And it annoyed me,” he says calmly.
You gasp in offense while he fights back a smile.
“But that night,” he continues, “the apartment was clean. Too clean.”
The room falls quiet except for the soft noise of the television in the background.
“And I remember thinking,” Keiji says softly, “that I missed you before I’d even been home for five minutes.”
Your chest tightens.
“I think that was the first time I realized it wasn’t just liking you anymore.” His gaze gentles, impossibly warm. “You had become part of my everyday life so naturally that being without you felt wrong.”
Your expression softens completely. “Keiji…”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, hiding the faint pink dusting his cheeks.
“Besides,” he murmurs against your skin, “you’re very hard not to love.”
Iwaizumi Hajime
Hajime raises a brow at your question. His arms are wrapped around you as you cuddle on the couch, your back to his chest. The show playing on the TV now forgotten as he hums, thinking about your question. Then a small smile grows on his lips.
“Back in high school.”
You blink, then laugh. “You’re lying. That's so long ago!”
“I’m serious, though.”
“Haji, thats such a young age to even realize that.”
“I know. But it’s true.”
You turn slightly to look at him, suspicious. “Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
He just snorts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s small. Simple. You remember the time you got sick during our second year?”
Your brows furrow as you think back. “The really bad flu?”
“Yeah.” Hajime nods once. “You missed school for almost a week.”
You hum. “I remember Matsukawa telling me Oikawa tried to fake being sick too so he wouldn’t have to do group work alone.”
Hajime groans immediately. “Don’t remind me. Dumbass almost got the rest of us in trouble.”
You laugh softly, and he smiles a little at the sound before continuing.
“At first, I didn’t think much of it.” He shrugs. “People get sick.”
“Mhm.”
“But then…” His arms tighten around you slightly. “Everything felt off.”
Your smile fades into something gentler.
“The classroom was quieter,” he murmurs. “Nobody laughed at my comments anymore.”
You gasp dramatically. “Excuse you, I did not laugh at all your comments.”
“You laughed at enough of them.”
“That’s because I felt bad!”
“Sure.” Hajime snorts softly. “Whatever helps you sleep.”
You elbow him lightly, earning a low chuckle from him before he continues.
“I kept looking toward your desk without thinking.” His voice grows quieter now. “Every time something happened, I’d turn to tell you about it before remembering you weren’t there.”
Your chest tightens painfully.
“And then one day,” he says, “you came back.”
You blink.
“I remember you walked into class looking exhausted. Your hair was messy, your uniform was wrinkled, and you still looked half-dead.”
“Wow. You’re so romantic.”
“Shut up.” He pinches your thigh lightly. “I also remember thinking you were the prettiest person I’d ever seen.”
Heat rushes to your face instantly.
“Hajime…”
He ignores your flustered look, though the faint pink on his ears gives him away.
“You sat down beside me and immediately complained about how much homework you missed.” He huffs a laugh. “And I remember feeling relieved. Like things were back where they were supposed to be.”
The room falls quiet for a moment.
“I think that’s when I realized it,” he admits softly. “That my day felt wrong when you weren’t around.”
Your heart melts completely.
“That’s…” You smile helplessly. “That’s actually really sweet.”
“Don’t make a big deal outta it.”
“Too late.”
Hajime sighs as you turn in his arms, grinning at the embarrassed look on his face.
“You know,” you tease softly, “for someone who acts tough, you’re kind of hopelessly in love with me.”
He rolls his eyes, but his hands settle firmly on your waist, grounding and warm.
“Yeah,” he says easily. “Guess I am.”
And somehow, hearing him say it simply makes your heart race even faster than before.
Reader have no idea that they're dating the batboys for a quite some time already, although reader does hope for it, they just thought that the batboys being so nice to them, while the batboys waiting for reader to be ready to do couple stuff, they just thought reader is shy 😭
I been thinking this for a while now
Reader: what you mean we're dating?!?!
Batboys: we've been dating for a while now???
“I like you so much, and you don’t even know it.”
Sorry lowkey disappeared again.Im having my daughter next month,scared asf💔💔.My fanny is gonna be DESTROYED.also random does anyone else hate podfics.Like it will have the perfect plot and then say” podfic” like turn that shit off omg.
Batboys x Reader: clueless Reader
Bruce Wayne
The “exclusive relationship” was IMPLIED, apparently
•Bruce thought things were very clear.
• In his defense:
•you spend most nights at the manor
• he takes you to galas
•Alfred refers to you as “Mr. Wayne’s partner”
•Bruce literally kisses you goodbye before meetings
•So naturally he assumes:
yes, this is my significant other.
•Meanwhile you’re spiraling internally every day.
•Because Bruce Wayne is:
•holding your hand
•buying you things
•resting his forehead against yours when tired
•But he’s never technically said:
“Will you be my partner?”
•So your brain goes:
Maybe he’s just emotionally confusing.
•The realization happens because someone at a gala says:
“You and your boyfriend make a lovely couple.”
•You laugh awkwardly.
“Oh..we’re not-“
•Bruce looks over immediately.
“…Not what?”
•You stare at him.
“Dating?”
•Silence.
•Bruce blinks once.
“..We’ve been exclusive for eight months.”
“EIGHT??!”
•You almost choke on your drink.
•Bruce is now deeply confused.
*“You sleep in my bed.”
“AS A FRIEND.”
“I kissed you.”
“PEOPLE KISS CASUALLY SOMETIMES-“
•Bruce just stares at you like your operating system is corrupted.
• Then realization slowly dawns on him.
“…You genuinely didn’t know.”
• You hide your face immediately.
“I thought you were being nice because you liked me as a person.”
•Bruce physically has to sit down.
•Because somehow this is more stressful than fighting Bane.
⸻
Dick Grayson
Actually devastated you didn’t know
•Dick is the MOST affectionate naturally.
•So this misunderstanding gets BAD.
•This man:
• calls you baby
•kisses your forehead
•cuddles you constantly
• takes you on dates
•says “missed you”
•introduced you to the Titans
•And you STILL think:
He’s probably just emotionally open.
•Dick genuinely thinks you’re just shy about labels.
•One day he casually says:
“My girlfriend’s coming over later.”
•You:
“Oh? Who?”
• Dick laughs.
•Then stops laughing.
“…You.”
•You stare at him.
“Wait.”
•He stares back.
“WAIT.”
“You didn’t know we were dating?!”
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST REALLY FRIENDLY.”
•Dick falls backwards onto the couch dramatically.
“I HELD YOUR FACE AND TOLD YOU I ADORED YOU.”
“YEAH BUT YOU’RE DICK GRAYSON. YOU SAY THINGS.”
•He’s losing his mind now.
“I TOOK YOU ON ROMANTIC ROOFTOP DINNERS.”
• “I THOUGHT YOU WERE TESTING LOCATIONS.”
•He actually laughs so hard he can’t breathe.
•Then immediately crawls across the couch to grab your face.
“Okay,” he says, still laughing,
“just so we’re SUPER clear now-”
•Kisses you directly on the mouth.
“Boyfriend. Dating. Romantic. In love with you.”
•You’re bright red.
•Dick thinks this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him.
⸻
Jason Todd
• Jason absolutely assumed you knew.
•Because from his perspective:
•you wear his hoodies
•you sleep at his place
•he threatens people for disrespecting you
•you’ve made out multiple times
•Clearly:
Relationship.
• But you’re an overthinker.
•So every time something romantic happens you internally go:
Don’t assume. Don’t ruin the vibe. Stay calm.
•The realization happens when Roy casually says:
“So how long have you two been together now?”
•You immediately answer:
“Oh we’re not together-“
•Jason:
“…What.”
•Roy:
“…WHAT.”
•You panic immediately.
“I MEAN-unless-“
•Jason is staring at you like his soul just left his body.
“Baby.”
“DON’T BABY ME RIGHT NOW.”
“I literally told a guy at a bar you were my girl.”
“I thought that was… metaphorical.”
•Jason actually puts his hands over his face.
“How are you alive.”
•Then he starts laughing.
HARD.
“Oh my god,” he says between laughs,
“you really thought I was just casually obsessed with you.”
•You hide in your hoodie immediately.
His hoodie.
•Jason notices. Smirks.
“You know normal friends don’t share apartments keys either, right?”
Silence.
“…oh my god.”
⸻
Tim Drake
•Tim honestly can’t blame you because he ALSO never formally asked.
• But he thought the relationship progression was obvious.
•You:
•have toothbrushes at each other’s places
• share passwords
• nap together
•hold hands constantly
•went to a wedding together
• Tim categorized this as:
Relationship Acquired.
•You categorized it as:
Extremely emotionally intimate friendship.
•The moment happens because Kon asks:
“Wait, did you never ask them out officially?”
•Tim pauses.
“..I thought I did.”
• You immediately look over.
“You WHAT.”
•Tim starts mentally replaying every interaction you’ve ever had.
“I said ‘you’re my favorite person.’”
“THAT ISN’T A CONFESSION.”
“I BOUGHT YOU FLOWERS.”
“AS A FRIEND???”
•Tim puts his head in his hands.
“This explains SO MUCH.”
“LIKE WHAT?”
“WHY YOU LOOKED PANICKED EVERY TIME I HELD YOUR HAND.”
•You whisper:
“I thought I was imagining things…”
• Tim looks up immediately.
“…Wait, you LIKE liked me?”
“YES???”
⸻
Damian Wayne
Actually offended you thought he behaved this way platonically
•Damian is NOT naturally affectionate.
•Which means from his perspective, this should have been EXTREMELY obvious.
• He:
•seeks you out voluntarily
•touches you first
•allows prolonged physical affection
•lets you hold Titus
• says “beloved”
•In Damian Language this is basically a marriage certificate.
•Meanwhile you:
He’s just… intense.
• The realization happens when you say:
“You’ll make someone really happy one day.”
•Damian stops walking.
• Slowly turns around.
“…Excuse me?”
“What?”“What do you mean ‘someone’?”
•You blink.
“Your future partner?”
•Damian stares at you in complete disbelief.
“Beloved. We are together.”
You laugh nervously.
“Wait, seriously?”
He looks genuinely disturbed now.
“You believed I was behaving this way PLATONICALLY?”
“YOU NEVER ASKED.”
“I ALLOWED YOU IN MY PERSONAL SPACE.”
“…that’s fair actually.”
•Damian pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I have called you ‘my love’ repeatedly.”
“I thought you were being poetic.”
Long silence.
Then:
“…Father was correct. You are catastrophically oblivious.”
which marvel and dc characters would be HEARTBROKEN if their fat s/o mentioned thinking about losing weight
i’m talking “NOOOOOoo uh i meannn…you know i already think you’re gorgeous, but it’s up to you babe”
here are my credentials: i’m fat
dc:
guy gardner is having a big fucking sullen fit if he finds out you’re trying to lose weight. askin why the fuck you’d do that to yourself, genuinely on the verge of a brain-scrambling breakdown lmao
jason todd cannot understand why on earth you would do that to yourself. you're perfect how you look and he just can't get enough of you; do you want him to prove it? because he will, sweetheart
roy harper is absolutely devastated if he gets wind of the notion. almost on his hands and knees trying to convince you to think again about such a ridiculous idea. just please don't honey, okay?
booster gold has to look at you a few times as he tries to mull over the idea that you've suggested to him; he blinks, squints, goes "why?" with the most perplexed cant to his voice and then proceeds to thoroughly discount any argument that you might suggest his way
lobo gives you a look of disgusted confusion that isn't quite directed at you, but more at the ridiculous idea that you've suggested to him. he takes a long drag from his cigar as he folds one leg over the other and grunts "why would you do somethin' stupid like that to a perfect bod like yours?" and the matter seems to be settled there
diana prince is absolutely appalled that you would consider losing weight. after all, she can still lift you and carry you in certain...situations...so why would you ever consider such a foolhardy decision, love?
marvel:
frank castle is bewildered why you would wanna do something like that. tells you that you're not eating enough, because he wants to make sure that not only are you well-protected, that you're also well-fed. come on now, honey, don't do that, will you?
bucky barnes likes a partner with a big figure, and looks at you with outright confusion when you suggest the idea. Come on doll, let's talk you out of that idea right now; no need to be suggesting so outlandish stuff
ben grimm absolutely adores your figure, your body; how it feels under his hands. The idea that you would want to lose any of that is absolutely horrific and it's probably one of the only times that you'll see real panic in his eyes when you suggest it
rogue is practically apoplectic if you consider losing any weight. thinks the more of you, the better; after all, it's important that she gets to visually appreciate you since she can't do as much touching as she wants to do, right?
those are my thoughts.........feel free to comment more below......adios....
Izuku is literally obsessed with your thighs. He could spend hours touching them, caressing them, kissing them, even biting them. They’re his sanctuary. His weakness.
And yet, you hate them. You find them too wide, too big, the skin covered in cellulite you can’t stand.
But Izuku loves them with a kind of fervor that feels almost insolent, sometimes even indecent. To him, they’re perfect—everything you think is wrong, he worships.
You’re lying on the bed in nothing but panties, one leg bent, the other stretched out. He’s on his knees between them, his big, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, gripping your flesh with a tender sort of possessiveness.
“They’re perfect,” he breathes, almost angry that you could ever doubt it.
He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh. His mouth lingers there for a long time. He kisses slowly, then drags his tongue along your skin, exhaling a hot breath that makes you shiver.
“I love when you sit on me… I love their weight, their warmth… I love when they’re wrapped around my face. I love them so fucking much.” His voice is low, sincere, and rough with desire.
You look away, a little embarrassed, but he slides his hand up to your stomach, then your hip, making you shiver to bring your gaze back to him.
“Look at me, baby. I want you to see how much I love them. How much I love you.”
He goes back to kissing your inner thigh, creating a slow, reverent path up to the edge of your panties. His lips barely graze your skin, just enough to make you tremble.
“These thighs… they’re mine. They drive me insane.”
He kisses the skin right at the edge of your panties, leaving a shaky breath there. Then his teeth brush gently against the elastic, as if he’s holding back the urge to devour you whole.
He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in your scent, this warm and wet heat he craves so deeply.
“Baby…” he murmurs against your lower belly. He sounds consumed by a desire he’s trying to control.
You take in a soft breath, your chest rising. Your stomach tenses under his touch, his hands still holding your thighs like he never plans to let them go. You slide one hand into his messy curls.
“Izuku…”
He looks up at you, eyes green and glowing like you’re divine. Like you’re the only beautiful and real thing in his whole world.
“You have no idea what it does to me when you let me touch this…” His thumbs draw soft circles on your thighs. Then he bites gently at your skin. You tremble. “And I need you to know something.”
He kisses you again higher now, closer to where your panties are getting soaked. “You’re fucking stunning, baby.”
Your eyes sting with unexpected tears. You weren’t ready to be touched like this, with his words. He slips a finger slowly under the waistband of your panties, gentle, careful.
His eyes never leave yours.
“Can I?” he asks softly.
You nod, unable to speak through the knot in your throat. He removes your panties with reverence, sliding them down your legs, letting them fall to the floor without breaking eye contact. Then he opens your legs gently, slowly like you’re a gift he’s been aching to unwrap.
“You know where I wanna be forever?” he whispers against your skin, between kisses. “Right here. Between your thighs.”
His tongue flicks out, sliding between your soaked folds. A sharp cry escapes your lips. He groans in return deep, hungry like your taste just awakened something feral in him.
His arms slip under your thighs, pulling them up around his face, spreading you open completely to his mouth. He licks you slowly, then faster, sucking your clit with insane precision.
Your hips move on their own. Your thighs tremble around his head. You clutch the sheets.
“Izu-… it’s too much..”
But he doesn’t stop. He wants you to feel how desperately you’re wanted. How entirely you’re loved.
You lose yourself in the rhythm of his mouth, the tremors running through you, the raw pleasure building as his tongue and fingers move inside you.
Minutes pass, maybe more—until you come hard, screaming his name, your thighs locked tight around his face. He groans with you, whispering I love you right against your soaked pussy.
He doesn’t move. He stays there, resting his face against your heat, catching his breath like he just found religion. Then he lifts his head, lips shiny, eyes glazed with need and love.
“I’m seriously thinking about spending the rest of my life between your thighs, mama.”
a/n: i rlly think spam u w/ izuku smut😩 ⟢﹒ masterlist
thinking about Pro hero Bakugo who wears a locket on him at all times. The picture in it? A beautiful picture of you smiling on your wedding day.
It's not on a necklace where it can snag or get pulled but somewhere else, safer. Also not as visible. But then the press gets a photo of him and someone sees it.
The pretty design on the back of the golden locket stands out. The press and his fans go crazy over it. Everyone already knows Bakugo is down bad for his wife but now there's a locket with unknown photos in it.
Bakugo chooses to ignore it till he's in an interview and gets asked "so everyone's dying to know. What's in this secret locket of yours?" A confused look comes to his face.
shoto's sweetheart! shoto todoroki x reader | he makes you cry but of course it's the happiest of tears to ever slip <3 ₊˚⊹♡
it's exactly five AM when shoto's alarm clock goes off. it takes his body half a second to react, thumb slamming down on the dismiss button hastily before he lets out a steadying breath, turning slowly to where you were tucked into his side, fast asleep. he reaches forward automatically to move a stray strand of hair that had fallen on your face to confirm you're still asleep before carefully untangling his limbs from your own and getting out of bed
you shift almost immediately at the sudden loss of warmth, with a small, involuntarily whine getting caught in the back of your throat as you search for him subconsciously in your sleep. shoto's surprised you can even sense he's not in bed anymore, and his eyes flit around in rising panic before he quickly grabs his pillow and nudges it in your direction. using his quirk, he warms the fabric with the palm of his hand in an attempt to replicate his usual body heat you cling to so adamantly—and you take the bait, pulling the plush pillow close to your chest as your limbs go slack once again.
shoto feels a sudden surge of affection at the sight of you—the barely perceptible pout on your lips and the way you look so peaceful sleeping in one of his old UA t-shirts has him feeling like he was being warmed from the inside out. he leans down to place a gentle kiss onto your temple, lips brushing against your hairline and brow bone as he places a handful more before pulling away, adjusting the blanket around you to ensure you sleep peacefully for the next hour. he leaves your shared bedroom with the door clicking close behind him and heads straight towards the kitchen.
shoto pulls open the refrigerator door and carefully takes out the bowl of pancake batter he'd prepared the night before and sneakily tucked into the back of the fridge before he turns on the stove a moment later.
today was your birthday, your first with shoto, and he'd spent more hours than he could count reading articles about what couples should do for eachother on their special day—had been obsessing over the day dedciated especially for you and silently looking forward to this morning for ages, and now, it had finally come.
he moves through all the ingredients as the gentle aroma of breakfast soon fills the air. the quiet sizzling of flipping pancakes and the slashes of his knife chopping up different colorful and fresh fruits are all pieces weaved intricately into becoming part of the perfect breakfast in bed for you to start your day with.
shoto works meticulously with brows pinched in concentration as he carefully arranges your breakfast. after he adds all the finishing touches to your plate, he places all the food on a tray before he walks over to your bedroom. balancing the tray in one hand, he opens the door carefully with his other before stepping inside
it's nearing seven AM now, and you've just begun to rouse from your slumber. carefully, shoto places the tray of food down on the bedside table before he crawls into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he picks you up easily, maneuvering you until your body is draped over top of his own
you let out a small hum of confusion, arms encircling his body instinctively as your eyes blink open tiredly. shoto cards a hand through your hair, using his grip on your head to gently tilt your head upwards and place a gentle peck onto your mouth
your eyes widen a bit in realization, and you quickly shift to sit up as you send shoto a sleepy grin—he blinks back in response, rounded gaze watching you rub away the sleep from your eyes as you make yourself comfortable in his lap
"morning sho'," you giggle, and shoto places a hand on your back with a soft look in his eyes
"good morning... and happy birthday. i made you breakfast in bed."
your eyes widen in surprise at his words before your gaze snaps towards the tray resting on the bedside table beside you two. you let out a loud gasp, and shoto smiles as you clamber out of his lap and towards the tray with so much enthusiasm that he has to take the tray from your hands and place it on the bed himself so you don't accidentally knock it over
"oh my—sho, this is—this is so sweet! oh, baby, did you make smiley faces on the pancakes? hearts too? oh, this is so well made!" you beam with shining eyes, and shoto nods with a hum
"i saw you saved some breakfast ideas like this to your pinterest board. i also watched some youtube videos and got some practice rounds in before this morning so i knew they'd come out well. i hope you don't mind eating in bed, but i thought it would be nice. there was an article i remember reading that said breakfast in bed is a romantic gesture for lovers, so... i can feed you too, if you'd like. and we'll both get dressed afterwards so i can take you for a walk. just us, okay? we'll go to your favorite ice cream shop and i can give you your presents when we..."
shoto trails off when he sees the look on your face, and his lips immediately morph into a frown as he shifts forward to hold your face
"what's wrong? why are you crying? i... we can eat in the kitchen if you don't want to get crumbs on the bed—"
you let out a sudden cry, and shoto physically flinches from surprise before he's by your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms as he pats your head in an attempt to soothe your wails. he's so confused and doesn't know what else to do, but then he hears you laugh, watery and soft against his chest, and he relaxes a bit, albeit still very baffled.
"this is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me, sho'." you confess with sniffle and wobbly smile, and shoto stares down at you with wide, unblinking eyes before nodding slowly
"i'm... i'm happy you liked the gesture, love."
you laugh, sudden and bright—and shoto feels dizzy when you kiss him, feels dizzy when you hold him so tenderly that he can't help but melt underneath the hold of your delicate fingers and loving touch
"this birthday present is gonna be hard to beat once your day rolls around!" you muse once you pull away, playing with the ruby and ivory tufts of hair at the base of shoto's neck before he smiles softly
"you're presence is the only gift i need." he murmurs. it's a confession he says softly, truthful and earnest like shoto was, and by the look in his eyes alone—you know he means every word.
HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER
YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD
MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME
requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)
with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
framed
pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader
summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)
masterlist ⟡ requests
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”
“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”
Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth.
You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him.
But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.
“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.”
Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.
Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.
Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.
Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.
You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?
Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.
You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”
An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.
“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.
Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure.
When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words.
“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.
From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.
“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”
The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.
“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”
Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.
“Okay…?” you prompted.
“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”
Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.
“I… make you happy?” you clarified.
“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”
With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.
“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”
You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.
“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”
Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”
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