Touchstarved! Hc’s - Bnha

Missing You - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd Smut Blurb 

Word Count: 2,600 

Titans Masterlist 

Warnings and notes below the cut, and the warnings do contain ‘spoilers’ for this fic, so if you’re okay with pretty much anything, the first line of the fic is highlighted for you to skip to it. 

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Sugary Secret

(Doflamingo x Reader)

Summary: The king of Dressrosa shares a midnight snack with you. Don't tell anyone. It's his little sugary secret.

Words: 1k

Tags: Doflamingo x afab!Reader, Reader & Doflamingo Are Married, Cuddling, Fluff, Size Difference, SFW, One Shot

A/N: I am sleep deprived, much like Doffy here. (Hugs him) It's okay, Doffy, let's cuddle, we can fall asleep easier like that. I wrote this ages ago cus I wanted a cuddle with Doffy in Dressrosa. Short and not detailed enough with descriptions for my liking, but I'm not that good quite yet with describing the SIZE of this man. Ugh, I love him. Would cuddle, cuddles would be 100000/10 with him. Wish I could make this Hammock NSFW Fic but hooo boy that intimidates me so it's SFW. Also, huh, my first actual fic(that I publish on tumblr)! Of course it would be Doffy. 🩷

You got woken up by some sort of sound of...

A bag?

It sounded like a bag. You realised the usual ten foot giant wasn't all wrapped around you, hugging you possessively. You blinked at the lack of him. The bed felt very big and very empty without him.

Then, you heard it. Crunching.

You perked up, shooting up in the bed. You knew that sound.

Cookies.

You floundered around for the switch of the bedside lamp. Once you found it, the illuminating orange light cast a small light around the large suite of the bedroom.

And there was the king of Dressrosa, satten on a circular coffee table, a lid full of cookies held in his left hand while his right hand grabbed the pile of cookies.

Upon the light hitting his handsome face, bare of his sunglasses, the king of Dressrosa froze like a cat caught catching a rat, pink eyes widening slightly.

You looked at Doflamingo. Doflamingo looked at you. 

Silence.

Staring at you, he tossed another cookie into his large mouth, the crunch as he chewed on it filling the large bedroom.

You blinked, more bewildered than anything. It was still night out, but it must be very very early morning.

You wondered if he'd had a nightmare. Usually, you were able to keep them at bay with your presence, running your fingers through his hair and soothing him in his sleep until the nightmare ebbed away, chased away by your loving touch, but sometimes that didn't work.

“Before you say anything,” said Doflamingo, his deep voice covering you with a weight similar to his feather coat. “I am the king. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. If I want to eat cookies at 3 am…” The blond pulled the box closer to his stomach protectively. “I will eat cookies at 3 am.”

When you continued staring, Doflamingo added, “Don't tell Monet.”

Poor Monet has given Doflamingo trauma or something of the like because she always kept him on schedule. He could never escape his royal duties with Monet around. He'd tried, much like you did. You both got dragged back to the palace within thirty minutes, feeling properly ashamed from the cold, chilly gaze Monet gave you.

“I am the king, and I am hungry, so what if I'm eating cookies?” continued Doflamingo. “I deserve cookies. I work hard all day.”

“And I deserve to eat cookies.  I’m a Celestial Dragon, nobody can tell me what to do.” said Doflamingo. Was it you, or was he eating the cookies faster, as though afraid you would start scolding him any moment, stop him from indulging in the sweets? “Even if you're my wife, I won't listen to you. I won't abandon the cookies, and if you got a problem, then -”

“Can I have some?” you asked, breaking off Doflamingo's monologue.

He stopped. “Huh?” he asked, tilting his head, confused.

You couldn't help it anymore. You smiled, beaming at your husband while his thin, blond eyebrows furrowed in further confusion.

That was it. He looked so adorable when he was confused. You giggled.

“Cookies,” you said, smiling, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “Can I have some?”

Doflamingo dropped the cookie in his shock. His pink eyes stared at you for a moment, completely surprised.

Then, a huge, big, excited smile engulfed his face, stretching from ear to ear.

Without replying, Doflamingo hopped down from the table, carrying the box of cookies, and approached your side of the bed. Within a second, he lifted you into his arm, cradling you to his chest. 

He chuckled at your squeal, the sound drumming against his bare chest.

With a twitch of fingers, he opened the doors of the balcony, and walked outside, into the night, carrying you and the cookie box. He sat himself down on the large hammock, placing you on his thigh.

The night in Dressrosa was fresh and warm, the entire country swathed in darkness, streets lit by the moonlight above. The stars glittered in the night sky. You stared up in awe at them until Doflamingo’s long digits cradled your jaw, demanding your attention. When you turned to him, he offered you a cookie. It looked incredibly small between his tanned, large fingers, like a blueberry.

The cookie was circular and thick, dusted with melted sugar. You ate it, chewing on it. It melted in your mouth.

You moaned happily. The cookie was delicious! The body was chewy and soft, like a muffin.

Doflamingo chuckled, the stars twinkling in his pink eyes. “They’re polvorones, a Dressrosan dessert.”

“Delicious,” you murmured, mouth watering, smiling.

Doflamingo hummed in agreement. He slid his large body down to lie down, lounging on the hammock, curling his long arm around you, pulling your head onto his shoulder, sliding your body onto his torso, where you laid atop his chest.

You took another polvorone from the bowl and offered it to him. Doflamingo outright grinned, a lewd smile on his face.

He laughed softly, the deep sound of it resounding across the balcony, across your very body.

He opened his mouth and ate the offered treat, moaning with each chew shamelessly, half-lidded eyes staring straight at you, his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs caressing your hips.

You lost sensation in your palm.

“Delicious,” said Doflamingo after he swallowed, repeating your words back at you, the fierce gaze of his pink eyes melting your heart. “Melts right in my mouth.”

The long, tanned digits dragged up your spine. The king smirked, white teeth flashing. He tilted your chin up with his thumb, drawing your face up to his, making you look straight into his breathtaking eyes.

“Just like you,” he crooned with a smile of the half-crescent moon in the starry night sky.

Your beetroot face made your husband laugh again, the sound filling the night of Dressrosa.

In the morning, Monet, after not finding you or Doflamingo in the throne room, and after neither of you appeared at the breakfast table with the rest of the family, went looking for the two of you. Imagine her surprise when she found the royal bedroom to be empty. She was about to pull the alarm - Doflamingo must have swept you away to the sky again and you two were probably somewhere in the streets of Dressrosa or a restaurant, or worse, on another island - but then she went to check the balcony.

You and Doflamingo were sleeping in the hammock, Doflamingo’s long arm wrapped around your waist possessively, curled around you like a rope. His other arm covered your entire spine, his palm larger than your head cradling the back of your skull, his long fingers relaxed in your hair. You laid atop his torso, your head buried in his neck, the tips of your toes resting on his thighs. In your sleep, your hands were wrapped around his neck, your fingers buried in his short, soft blond hair. Both of you looked peaceful.

There were cookie crumbs on you both, an empty tray with remnants of polvorones on the table beside the hammock.

Monet let you and Doflamingo sleep, and called Diamante to let him know everything was all right.

You were safe, snuggled in the warmth of your husband, sleeping in the arms of your king.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

For anyone who is waiting on the link to the fic I’m trying to locate, unfortunately there has been minimal progress as of yet, at least on my end. If you’d like to help, it would be much appreciated! And not just by me, as it appears! I will keep you updated if there’s any progress :) thank you for being patient! Hopefully it will be found soon!

Batman chasing phantom around gothem threatening adoption

Phantom has been hiding out in gothem after an incident with vlad, he's somehow gained the bats attention

Batman is around danny for less than 5 minutes before his adoption senses go off, phantom manages to escape but bruce has alfred prapare a room, prepared the batkids and has the adoption papers ready

The next time batman and phantom meet, phantom tries to sass his way out but batman has something else on his mind

He walks up to him and says "sighn here"

Phantom asks "what this"

Batman "adoption-"

Phantom didnt let him finish his sentence, batman is known as a serial adopter and dannys trying to get away from one crazy man trying to adop him, HE DOSENT WANT ANOTHER

Less than an hour later their are videos of the sassy new meta in gothem running away from batman screaming that he'd rather be sent to arkam than be adopted

While batman responded with 'it is inevitable you will become my new child' while chasing after him, adoption papers visible in his hands.

The batkids see it and start placing bets on when phantom will give into batman because he's right...

The adoption is inevitable

DC/DP Crossover Idea #26

Wes and Tim somehow become friends, mainly from Wes appearing in front of Tim one day, dumped a bunch of photos and other stuff and is like ‘I know who you are.’ And Tim wonders if he’s suffering from karma.

Of course, Tim eventually uses this to be a menace to his family. By never telling them about Wes figuring out his and their identities for one, and then inviting this ginger gremlin over for dinner sometime later, and then just letting Wes say the most unhinged shit at the table that’s just a brush close to him just straight up saying ‘I know who you are.’

it’s hard to give jewelry as gifts sometimes

Me, trying my hand at making memes for the first time: ʸᵒ ᵈᵃⁿⁿʸ ᶠᵉⁿᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ¹⁴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵃ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ

Also me, making my memes and apparently making people have crises over The Box Ghost having a Minnesota accent: >:)

This isn’t a post i was hoping to make.

I actually had this in my drafts since I made the post to look for that fic, in preparation for when i hoped to find the link.

unfortunately, however, i have to face the music

i remembered that the fic was, indeed, on AO3

so I took to scouring through my extensive read history, even going back to the beginning of 2022

there was no sign of it, however as I was searching, i passed by multiple notices that some works had been deleted

so, it saddens me to inform you, that that fantastic fanfic that i know was absolutely amazing, was most likely deleted.

i don’t know why, from what i remember it was an absolute masterpiece

i’m sorry, friends. i wish i could have shared it’s splendor with you.

~Taglist~

@sylum @bubblegum-bee-otch @kenmasslave @scentedsciencequotesknight-blog @thatsharklovingwoman @alextheknight707 @always1s4youbitch-blog @sakusasimpbot @star583 @therobishow @somebodyfuture3 @beelsprettygf @av1vaa @dollypipp @yukisshittyposts @herrscher-of-amour @myrunawaysweets @angrymunchkin @soy-ang @ara-theo @dazzlingd1x @thatbtchtoxin (it won’t let me tag you so I’ll let you know!) @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @munchkinfox @emilymikado @littlepunkbunny @azuremyst99

don’t mind me being horny over Jim Halpert and how he would stuff you with a vibrator before work and has the remote in his pocket and adjusts the settings just when you think you’re safe. how he watches you squirm in your seat but try and pass it off so no one knows what’s really going on.

how he looks like a predator about to pounce on his prey with the triumphant smirk on his face as he watches you try and contain your moans. he plays with the controls while he’s getting coffee, enjoying the bitter drink while he watches you try to focus on the words in front of you and shakily apologize to Dwight when he scolds you on not getting work done.

how, at the end of the day, he pulls you aside to a private office where you won’t be bothered and teases you more with the toy that was buzzing away in your tight little cunt the whole day before he fucks you relentlessly on the table and kisses you breathless so that the others don’t hear your begging moans.

Stay Away From My Son

A/N: Being the longtime lover of Criminal Minds I am,, I’m making a full fic from a TikTok scene I made lol I had this whole big scenario in mind for it so I decided I’d expand on it here. Have some Team Dad!Hotch and Team Son/Little Brother!Spencer

disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it’s characters, they belong to Jeff Davis

Characters: Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ” Jereau, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, Original Male Character(s)

WARNINGS: groping, grinding, spicy content(not smut)(lime? maybe?), weapons, swearing, probably bad writing, attempted present tense(not what I’m used to but I’ll try ;-;)

As much as Hotch didn’t like- no, detested sending one of his own into danger without proper protection, it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t even send Reid in there with a gun, he’ll have to rely on the younger’s acting skills to keep him safe. They’d figured out the Unsub’s identity and got all the evidence they need to convict him and his current location, which also happens to be his hunting ground. He works at a gay nightclub as a bartender, a job that wouldn’t make it suspicious if he flirted with the patrons.

His type is Twinks, especially first timers that fell for his charms and would willingly follow him out back where he would have sex with them before drugging them and taking them to his place, an apartment above the club. Now, to lure him out to avoid putting civilians in danger and as to not scare them, they sent Reid in undercover.

Spencer, in a brightly colored, loose fitting crop top with very short jean shorts the rest of his legs in fishnet and chunky heeled combat boots, light makeup on his eyes and glittery cheeks makes his way into the club. Garcia has their computers queued up with the security feed inside the club, All their eyes trained on Reid and Lukas Mertins, their Unsub. Spencer makes his way through the crowd, blending in and letting the larger men grab on his hips and rub up on him, the other smaller-statured men dancing up against him as a show for the others. Finally, he makes it to the bar and sits down, panting and excitedly and nervously looking back at the crowds, fitting into his role perfectly.

Lukas takes the bait instantly and looks Spencer up and down like a Lion about to pounce on an injured Gazelle. He slides his way to Spencer, startling him with an introduction.

“Hey, there. I haven’t seen you around. Newcomer?” He asks, deepening his voice as to be alluring.

“Oh, yea! I just moved here from Wyoming!” He yells over the booming music, “I’m Callum!” He sends a charming grin to the man.

“What’s your poison? Gin? Tequila? No, you strike me as a Sex on The Beach kind of guy!” Lukas sends a wink at Spencer, confidence radiating off of him.

“How’d you know?” Spencer grins back at him with that amused surprise Lukas was expecting.

“Little bartenders’ secret, cutie, maybe I’ll teach you some time,” he speaks as he begins making the drink, when he notices Spencer taking out his wallet, “oh, no! You put that away! First timer’s get their first drink on the house!”

“Really? Are you sure?” The easy conversation continues on before another twink runs up and all but drags Spencer back to the dance floor as if they knew each other forever. Lukas keeps his eyes on “Callum” the whole time, clearly taking the shine to him that everyone had hoped(and dreaded).

Spencer makes his way back to the bar, giggling and panting as he returns to his flirtatious conversations with the Unsub.

“Hey, Callum, do you wanna get outta here? My shift just ended.” Lukas leans in close to say the words directly into Spencer’s ear.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer sends a lustful smile at him, his lip between his teeth. Smirking, Lukas jerks his head to gesture Spencer to follow him to the back which lead to the alleyway.

Before they even cross the door’s threshold, Lukas has his lips against Spencer’s, his tongue damn near down his throat. As he gets them out the door, the loud slam resonating through the speaker, his hands are firmly gripping Spencer’s ass, kneading and landing the occasional slap.

Spencer’s hands are lost in Lukas’ hair as the larger man backs him up against the brick wall. Patting his ass, Lukas gets Spencer to jump and wrap his legs around his waist. Holding Spencer up with his own body and the legs around his waist, he begins grinding against him, moving to attach his lips to the brunette’s neck.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so fuckin’ good,” his hand slides up Spencer’s body and plays with his nipple, coaxing moans from the twink in his arms.

“Lukas Mertins! FBI! Get on the ground with your hands behind your head!” Hotch yells at the man, all too eagerly as the team notices. The blonde immediately drops Spencer though he doesn’t let him get away. Mertins wraps his arm around his neck, holding him flush against his body, pulling a pocket knife from his slacks and presses it tightly against Spencer’s throat in retaliation to the guns aimed at him with 5 accompanying death glares.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so. You back the fuck off or I’m taking this slut out.” He hisses out and glares directly at Hotch.

“Hang on there, Reid.” Morgan calls out to said agent when he sees the flash of panic that appears for no more than a few seconds.

“Let him go, Mertins. You’re not getting out of this.” Hotch all but growls out, sending quick glances at Spencer to ensure he’s alright.

“I beg to differ-” Before he could finish, Hotch fires a shot into his shoulder, making him drop the knife and release Reid to cradle his injury as he stumbled to the ground, grunting and growling in rage.

“Then beg.” Hotch snarls, grabbing the jacket they had grabbed for Reid and hurrying to put it around his shoulders, Prentiss coming forward to pull him into her side both for warmth and a sense of protection, while Morgan happily forces Mertins’ arms behind his back. If he accidentally tugs just a bit too hard on the arm Hotch shot, then no one mentions it. Nor do they mention if he just so happens to grab onto the same shoulder to bring him to his feet.

“Least you can do is have the twink suck me off.” He sneers, nodding at Reid.

“That what you think he is? Some twink?” Hotch squints challengingly at the man, daring him to go on.

“He gave me blue balls.” With that, his glare is directed at Reid who only barely shows any of his discomfort, though enough to have Hotch pissed at the man before him.

“Did he?” He feigns surprise and sympathy as he slowly takes the 3 steps forward. Suddenly, in a flash of barely a second, his knee rises to meet Mertins’ crotch, a deep grimace returning as the Unsub groans and collapses to his knees as he curls in on himself. “Now they’re black and blue balls.”

The whole team says nothing as they watch the scene and make not a move to intervene, though some are wearing smirks at Hotch’s display of protectiveness.

“And you say you’re not the dad.” Prentiss, still with a slightly shivering Reid in her arms, teases. Hotch glances back at her, a glare with no heat behind it playing on his features, though he says nothing.

No one says a word but they all notice his lack of denial.

Emily leaves Spencer with a quick squeeze as she goes to take Mertins from Morgan when they begin to head back to the vehicles.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” Derek asks, pulling Spencer into his side for side hug for comfort and to provide some warmth.

“Yea, or well, I will be. Once I can brush my teeth.” Spencer’s answer prompts a chuckle from most of the team and a soft grin from Hotch, who’s just relieved Spencer is alright.

“That was impressive, you know. I don’t know many people who could keep their cool in a situation like that.” Dave smiles at him and gently touches his shoulder as he passes to one of the SUVs.

“He’s right, Spence, that was really brave.” JJ offers gently, a smile on her face she usually reserves for her sons.

“Bravest twink I ever met,” Emily teases, a playful and kind smile on her lips that Spencer can’t resist returning.

Once everyone gathers into their respective SUVs, they begin the drive back to the station to firstly get Spencer back into his own clothes and to pack up to head home. Hotch takes to sitting in the back with Spencer as Emily drives, holding Spencer as he’s still shivering; as well as for his own peace of mind to ensure he’s safe, not that he’ll admit that out loud.

“That was impressive, you did very well,” Hotch sends a small, proud smile to him, though it soon turns to slight worry, “are you okay, though? That was a lot.” Spencer smiles at the concern, really seeing his “Dad Mode” as the team calls it.

“I’m okay. I’ll be much more comfortable in clothes with more coverage and some mouthwash, but I’m alright, right now.” Nearly the moment he finishes his sentence Emily’s phone blares to life, flashing with Penelope’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up, Garcia?” Emily announces into the phone, signaling she’s on speaker.

“Oh my sweet Boy Wonder! How are you?! Are you okay?! That was amazing! I didn’t know you could move like that! I’m definitely taking you the next time I go dancing! Please tell me someone punched that guy in the dick! Did he hurt you?! Be ready for a hug the moment you get back!!” She rushes, hardly taking a breath between sentences, making Emily and Spencer laugh and Hotch lightly chuckle with a fond smile.

“I’m alright, I promise. We’ll see about that dancing. Don’t worry, his genitals did not leave unscathed. And I’m looking forward to it, Penelope.” Spencer stays grinning throughout his update.

“Good! And, see, this is why I’m not in the field! No one messes with my Beautiful Boy Wonder! He wouldn’t be walking away at all if I was there!” She lets out her mini rant, adding in more bits of her protectiveness of him, in particular of the team, before she eventually hangs up.

They get back to the station, wrap everything up, get Spencer back into his own clothes, and bid adieu to the local enforcement and climb on the jet.

Spencer’s still low body temperature is making him tired, which he tries to explain the science behind as he’s floating in and out of consciousness. Hotch, who’s sitting beside him, smiles fondly at his habits and lightly directs his head to lean on his shoulder, where the Doctor promptly falls asleep.

The team, expectedly, grins at the sight and Derek and Emily immediately jump at the chance to take pictures, most of which sport a Hotch glancing at the camera with an amused smirk.

“Still not ‘the Dad’?” JJ smirks at Hotch over her book, gesturing with a quick glance at the man on his shoulder.

A defeated smile on his lips, Hotch huffs a silent chuckle, “No comment.”