Luffy Headcanons With Black Reader

My Zuzu!

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Let talk about how Izuku would be the perfect boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. Like forgot Bakugo tough but soft love and Kirishima gym rat love and look at how Zuku is like total boyfriend material!

-- Izuku who when he first discovers your pretty face quickly asks you about your quirk and backstory even how you got your hero suit designed! Writing everything you say with a quickness, but he doesn't even notice himself writing notes about your appearance like how your lip pucker when in thought, your eyes simmer when you talk about your favorite thing about your hero design, and how quickly your face animates itself to a new emotion every few sentences. After meeting him he makes a huge effort to get to know you besides your quirk and heroic morals he wants to know everything about you even things about your parents (he used those facts for when you start dating)

-- Izuku after months of being your friend fighting alongside you and you tending to some of his scars he starts to have more unfriendly thoughts about, and no not any freaky stuff more of he hates how you laugh at every flirty joke Denki makes or how he love that you fuss over him and his recklessness he just eats up every new hairstyle you get, every new shoe, new dress he just hasss to complement you making you smiles at him so hard he blushes under that gaze you give him. Too bad it took practically a whole pregnancy for him to confess!

-- Izuku would when makes dates makes sure he gets everything perfect from a small date to a cafe he gets you a tiny allmight keychain as a momentum, dates at the aquarium? a jellyfish plushie is in your arms by the end of shark's exhibit, a concert for the two of you favorite band? Oh, baby got a favor from Bakugo to get you their new album. He makes sure any cuddle dates are so cozy and warm so you can't leave his arms; with pillow forts and fresh popcorn and a cute Disney movie with his strong arms around you warming you up nicely. Izuku who covers you up in his bed is you fall asleep fist and gets one of his allmight plushie and places it in your arms

-- Izuku who is always touching you doesn't matter if it's your leg on his thigh or his hand holding your pinky, he just needs to touch you if you're going to be close to him but what about far away? He has a whole keychain of allmight that everyone knows is his and he attaches it onto your bag and boom now everyone even your teachers know your " Zuzu Baby"

-- Speaking of Zuzu baby, he loves pet names and since his name Izuku has about fifty names in it you choose ' Zuzu' which when you first called him it he face reddens a bit since you always gotta call him babe or baby he naturally registers his name to be Zuzu. He's a boy who doesn't care if his friends hear you call him this name because you call him it out of love and he can't ask for more, I mean your his baby what the need to go getting mad because you didn't call him Midoriya he doesn't even call you by your real name you baby, pretty boy/girl, beautiful, pretty, anything he could think of that remind him of your called it

-- Now even though he's soft he ain't no punk he just doesn't really get bothered by mean commets anymore (he was quirkless majority of his childhood this dude got more thick skin than Bakugo) he just laughs awkwardly and when alone he talks all his shit

" And Bakugo gonna call me useless!?"

" Nooo baby why you didn't say nothing?"

" He got kidnapped and nobody wanted to save him but Kiri! I would be pissed everyday too"

" Omg! Izu stop!"

-- Like Zuzu is messy also he was a quite kid y'all so when you thought he wasn't listening HE WAS, and since your if s/o then bookie he is talking so much shit and gossip with you to the point you look at him differently like where did my softy go? He just said he would whoop Todoroki's ass if he called him a mutt

" Baby really?"

" It'll take a while but I could!"

" Shoto? The fire and ice combo package?? You could whoop his ass?"

" If I was called a mutt! He'll have two scars"

Yea... he talks too much but, he gonna back it up especially if it was about you. He cares about your mental a lot so if you ever tell him you're feeling a bit down simply because a hoe talking shit, he got 508 Instagram accounts to troll them, and you'll never know

-- Izuku who is only a boy so sometimes that cute miniskirt gets the gears in his head turning, in his room right behind the hero journal he got a little book filled with drawings of you so detailed it almost creepy, a small page of you drawn in many lewd styles. Every make out session you feel hi hand twitch trying to stop himself from touching our hips or to fondle your chest when you cuddle

-- Izuku who when the time is right will show you, he isn't just Zuzu baby all the time his mind evreytime you change clothes wondering what will happen if he takes a peek at your naked form?

-- 'That'll never happen though, Izuku is too much of a sweetheart to be a perv right?' You think looking at him scribble in his book today you're in his room studying, you ask to see his book and he blushes shaking his head and hides the page from. After a few minutes he gets up to go to the bathroom now your chance!

Getting up from your spot you take a peek at the page and it just a drawing of you listening to music from earlier with cute love notes along the side, smiling you hide the page again not looking at the page behind it with you drawn with your tits out glistening in the sun.

We love Zuzu!

This IS FRICKEN FRACKIN CUTEEE

Country boy dio! who only loves his sweetheart and their little family.

__________________________________________

Who convinced you to come live with him on the farm. He spends every day workin hard on it. Dealing with all the animals, workin in that hot sun all day. Harsh tan lines turning his once pale skin a golden bronze. His blonde hair slicked back into his mullet. Sweat sticking to his skin from the past four hours of him barreling hay to keep everything in pristine condition so you didn't have to worry about a thing.

It had been such a long time since he had left his piece of shit to rot in his loneliness. Once his dear mom had passed and things started to get bad between him and his dad he left and didn’t look bad. He started doing any work he could to get. He went from dealing to helpin in some different shops doing just about everything. Within the years he had fucked up and had four kids. He loved them even if he knew he didn’t have means to care for them. He did his damned best to make sure they had what they need before he had anything.

Shit was hard for a hot minute. That was he stumbled across an elderly couple who were saying how they needed to get rid of their old farm but had no one that even wanted to look at it. He couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity. It was hard for the first two years but him and the kids had somewhere warm to stay. He ended up confiding in Jonathan who felt like it was his duty to help Dio. He ended up talking to some friends and spread word around about Dio’s work and soon enough people were coming to him for just about everything. Business was booming all year round.

He never expected any kind of success, just wanting to make enough to get by but this was amazing to him. But he did have a problem, having four little boys was not easy. Especially when he went out to the city to restock on stuff. Ungalo and Rikiel were both over hyper and god it was hard to keep up. They would run around the store like they would back on the farm. Dio would always scold them but this time he couldn’t because he was as actually glad they did since that led him to meeting you.

He had noticed they ran away once again and when he saw them they were in your arms as you asked them where their parents where. He was shook by your looks. The way your clothes fit, huggin you nicely. The books you were once holding now pressed against his chest. He could see the dermal piercings on your chest peeking out your shirt. It was so new to him and god be moved it.

He snapped out of it when he saw the boys pointing at him and he had to rush over while still holding Giorno and Donatello.

“M’ so sorry bout that. These two given me hell.”

“Don’t worry bout it, I got siblings I know how it is. You and mama must have your hands full.”

“Nah s’ just me.”

“Oh shit, my bad hun. Didn’t mean to like be insensitive.”

“No no, don’t worry doll.”

You smiled a bit at the name as you handed off Ungalo and Rikiel to him.

“I’ll see you around I’m hoping?”

“Yeah, most definitely.”

———————————————————————

“Pa! S’ getting too hot out here. Come in the house!”

He turned around when he heard your voice. He put his pitchfork down and took in the sight of you standing on the porch. You looked so fucking good. Your curls were framing your face, your plump lips with a small frown due to you hating how the sun was beaming against you. Dio loved it though, seeing it bounce off your moisturized skin. And you of course weren’t by yourself no. You had his- you guys four little boys. Giorno on your hip, rikiel standing next to you and holding on your leg, and ungalo chasing Donatello all around the porch.

He wanted to marry you then and there. You accepted his four boys and raised them like you had given birth to them. And the boys loved you like no other. Often fighting with their papa to get your attention. Rikiel and Giorno were especially bad. They absolutely adored you. And dio hated to admit it but he sometimes grew jealous at how much you babied the boys.

He made his way over to you when he realized you were still callin out to him. A small smirk appearing on his face as he approached you.

“Miss me, doll?”

You didn’t even get to respond when Donatello and Ungalo tackled their father into a hug. They only 6 and 7 but they were damn big boys just like they daddy. He chuckled as he picked them up into his arms as if they weighed nothing.

“Y’ four bein good for ya mama/papa, huh?”

Rikiel was the first one to speak up, peeking from behind your legs.

“Ma/pa said you were gonna take us t’ the city! And that we were gonna see TiTi Erina and Uncle Jonny!”

Dio cocked an eyebrow at this which caused you to explain.

“Erina called earlier while I was cookin. It’s lil Lisa Lisa’s birthday tomorrow. Wan’ take the boys to see their cousin. Plus I could do some shoppin while we’re out there. Get the boys some new clothes. Same f’ myself. Like to look good f’ my man.”

Dio couldn’t help but chuckle at your last comment. He also took notice at how his accent was starting to rub off on you.

“Yeah alright, guess m’ takin you four t’ the city after all.”

Amid the kids cheering Dio had leaned down to plant a kiss on your glossy lips. But the kiss was cut short when a tiny hand tugged at Dio’s hair. It was none other than his youngest boy Giorno. The mini version of him, they were so alike even though he was only a mere two years old.

“Y’ lil brat, can’t hog ‘em all to y’self.”

He was only met with babbles from Giorno which made you chuckle.

“Protective jus’ like his daddy.”

“Hmph. Guess he is.”

His smile grew on his face as he watched you usher the boys into the house. God he loved you more than life itself…

Part 2 coming soon!

Invincible variants x reader Pt. 6✩ ‧ ₊ ˚

♡ A new variant appears?♡

✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Broken Convergence‧ ₊ ˚

☆ WC: 12k+ [Part 6] ☆ TW: fluff ☆ Author's Note: Hi everyone. Sorry for the late update; I went to Knotts Berry Farm and got hella sick. People really need the decency to cover up when coughing (￣へ￣）Anyway, I wrote this chapter with a fever, lol, I hope y'all like it! ––––––––––––––

Omni had only a split second to react. His enhanced senses detected the threat before the sound reached his ears—a rush of air, the crack of wood splintering, and the unmistakable scent of rage. The muscles beneath his red and white suit tensed as years of combat training took over, his jawline hardening with determination.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD OMNI—!"

In one fluid motion, Omni slipped his mask back over his eyes, concealing the vulnerability he'd shown only to Y/N moments before. The black lenses obscured the conflict in his blue eyes as he covered her body with his own. His massive frame enveloped her completely, shielding her from the incoming assault. The mattress springs groaned in protest as he shifted his weight, his arms creating a protective cage around her smaller form.

Mohawk Mark burst through the doorway, the wooden frame exploding into splinters that scattered across the cabin floor like deadly confetti.

His blue and black suit was torn in places, smeared with dirt and blood—evidence of the destruction he'd been wreaking across the planet. His signature mohawk was disheveled, strands of dark hair falling across his forehead like jagged shadows. His eyes blazed with unrestrained fury, pupils constricted to pinpoints as he caught sight of Omni hovering protectively over Y/N.

Mohawk's lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing teeth clenched so tightly that a vein pulsed visibly at his temple. The purple-blue line throbbed beneath his skin in time with his racing heartbeat, a visual indicator of his barely contained rage.

"I KNEW IT!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, his face flushed dark with rage until it matched the crimson of his blood-splattered suit.

 "Sneaking off to have her all to yourself!"

He launched himself at Omni, his body becoming a blur of motion. His fist connected with Omni's forearm as the red-suited variant blocked the attack with mathematical precision. The impact sent shockwaves through the cabin, rattling the remaining windows and knocking dust from the ceiling beams. The sound was like a thunderclap contained within the small space, reverberating off the walls and assaulting Y/N's ears.

Despite Omni's protection, Y/N felt the vibration of the impact jolt through her body. Mohawk's knee drove into her abdomen as he collided with Omni, reopening the barely-healed wound in her torso. Her vision exploded with white-hot pain, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as fresh blood soaked through her bandages. The warmth of it against her skin was instant and alarming, a stark contrast to the chill that began to spread through her limbs.

Mohawk's momentum carried both him and Omni through the opposite wall, their bodies tearing through the aged wood like it was paper. Splinters and debris showered the forest floor as they tumbled outside, uprooting trees as they grappled, each impact reverberating through the ground like thunder.

Y/N curled into herself, clutching her reopened wound. Crimson seeped between her fingers, warm and sticky against her skin. The copper scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, making her stomach twist with nausea. Her breath came in short, pained gasps as she tried to focus through the haze of agony. Beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead as her face contorted with pain, her brows drawing together and lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

"Damn it," she hissed through gritted teeth, her pupils dilated with shock. The wound from Prisoner's rusted pipe strike had never fully healed, and No-Mask's hurried medical work hadn't been enough to prevent infection.

As a man-made Viltrumite, she lacked the immunity to disease that true Viltrumites possessed. The infection had been festering beneath her skin, weakening her from within. She could feel it now—the unnatural heat radiating from her wound, the subtle but persistent throbbing that extended beyond the immediate injury.

The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. A section of the roof had already partially collapsed, sending dust and debris raining down onto the bed. Y/N's eyes darted around the deteriorating structure, fear flickering across her features as survival instincts finally kicked in.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk pounded his fist into the ground where Omni had been a millisecond before, the impact creating a crater six feet wide. The earth itself seemed to scream in protest, fracturing and buckling under the force of his rage.

"She's not yours!" Mohawk bellowed, throwing a punch that connected with Omni's jaw. The sound was like thunder, the shockwave rattling what remained of the cabin's windows. His eyes were wild, pupils constricted to pinpoints, lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed clenched teeth. A thin line of saliva stretched between his upper and lower lip as he shouted, his rage turning him feral. "None of us get to have her if all of us can't!"

Omni absorbed the blow, head snapping to the side before he recovered, his movements calculated and precise despite the fury of Mohawk's attack. Unlike his opponent, Omni's face remained a mask of calm, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, the only evidence that Mohawk's blow had landed. He wiped it away with mathematical precision, not a wasted movement in sight.

"You don't understand what's happening," Omni stated, his voice level despite the situation. He dodged another punch, the air whistling as Mohawk's fist passed inches from his face. His body moved with fluid grace, each dodge and counter-strike executed with perfect efficiency. "She needed protection—"

"Protection?!" Mohawk laughed, the sound hollow and manic as he grabbed a nearby tree, uprooting it with terrifying ease. Soil and roots dangled from the massive trunk as he hefted it like a bat. Muscles bulged beneath his torn suit, veins standing out in stark relief against his skin. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "Is that what you call fucking her while she's injured? Some protection!"

Y/N felt heat rush to her face at Mohawk's crude accusation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and indignation. The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling, a section of which had already partially collapsed.

Something primal stirred within her—self-preservation that had lain dormant under the collar's suppression. With desperate concentration, she focused on the power that had been denied her for so long. The sensation was like electricity coursing through her veins, uncomfortable yet exhilarating. Her muscles trembled with the effort, her face contorting as she pushed against her limitations, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.

The energy within her built slowly at first, then with increasing speed—a tingling at her core that spread outward to her limbs. It was like rediscovering a part of herself that had been amputated, painful in its return yet undeniably right. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, fine hairs standing on end as power surged through her.

With a strained grunt, Y/N launched herself toward the hole Omni and Mohawk had created. Her flight was wobbly, unpracticed—she ricocheted off the remaining wall, crying out as the impact sent fresh waves of pain through her torso. Blood trickled from the reopened wound, drops falling like crimson rain to the ruined cabin below as she corrected her trajectory and burst through the opening just as the cabin's roof collapsed with a deafening crash.

Dust and debris billowed outward, enveloping her in a cloud of particles that stung her eyes and choked her lungs. She coughed violently, each spasm sending darts of pain through her reopened wound. Her flight faltered, her concentration wavering as she struggled to stay airborne.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk and Omni clashed in midair, the sound of their collisions echoing like cannon fire. Where Mohawk fought with wild, erratic movements fueled by emotional rage, Omni moved with precision, each strike calculated for maximum effect. Trees splintered and fell as they used the forest as their battleground, neither willing to yield.

"JUST FUCKING DIE!! She's MINE!" Mohawk roared, his voice cracking with emotion. His eyes were wild and unfocused, the veins in his forehead prominent as he drove his fist toward Omni's face. Sweat beaded on his brow, flying off in droplets with each violent movement. His mohawk had become completely disheveled, hanging limply to one side. "I found her first!"

Omni deflected the blow with efficiency, his expression composed despite the fury blazing behind his mask. His jawline remained tense, only the slight flare of his nostrils betraying his emotional state as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Every movement was a study in controlled power, not a single motion wasted.

"Your claim is irrelevant," Omni replied, his voice cold and even. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, assessing Mohawk's weaknesses with clinical precision. Each word was delivered with perfect speech as if he were discussing a scientific theory rather than fighting for the possession of a woman. "You're too volatile, too unpredictable. You'll get her killed."

Y/N hovered uncertainly above the destruction, her limbs heavy and uncooperative as she struggled to maintain altitude. The forest below was being systematically destroyed, a mirror of the greater devastation they'd been inflicting on the planet before she had entered their lives. Massive trees lay uprooted, their ancient trunks splintered like matchsticks. Craters scarred the earth where superhuman blows had connected, the once-lush landscape now resembling a war zone.

"Enjoying the fight, my little warrior?" a silky voice whispered in her ear.

The whispered words caressed her ear, warm breath tickling her neck. Y/N flinched violently, her concentration breaking as she faltered in the air. The almost imperceptible scent of expensive cologne mixed with something darker, more primal, invaded her nostrils. Her stomach lurched as she began to fall—only to be caught by strong arms that pulled her firmly against a solid chest.

Sinister's hold was both gentle and possessive, his yellow and black suit vibrant against the blue sky. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes—eyes that burned with an intensity that made her breath catch. The scent of sulfur and something darker, more primal, clung to him as he pressed his nose against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply like a predator committing its prey's scent to memory. His breath was hot against her skin, raising goosebumps despite the fever burning through her.

His entire body stiffened, the smile freezing on his face. When he pulled back to look at her, his expression had transformed into something dangerous, the mask of charm slipping to reveal the predator beneath. His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the iris as his nostrils flared, drinking in her scent with animal intensity.

"Why does Omni's scent cover you so completely?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. His fingers dug into her arms, not enough to bruise but enough to demonstrate the barely leashed strength he possessed. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he struggled to control his reaction, pulsing visibly beneath his skin. 

"He was watching you… What exactly happened between you two in that cabin?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Sinister's grip shifted, one hand moving to cup her face. His thumb and forefinger pressed against her cheeks, squeezing until her lips puckered slightly. A drop of blood welled at the corner of her mouth where her split lip reopened, the metallic taste coating her tongue. His touch was paradoxically gentle despite the power behind it, his fingers warm against her fever-chilled skin.

"Why him?" Sinister whispered, his face close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes, a momentary glimpse of raw pain before it was swallowed by possessive fury. The muscles in his jaw worked beneath his skin, tension radiating from his body. 

"Why not me? I would have protected you just as fiercely. I would have worshipped you more thoroughly."

His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, wiping away the blood. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from his body. His pupils dilated as he stared at the smear of crimson on his glove, his breathing becoming more ragged. He brought the blood-stained finger to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the crimson smear. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the metallic taste of her. When they opened again, they were darker, hungrier.

"Release her, Sinister."

The commanding voice cut through the tension like a knife. Viltrumite Mark hovered several feet away, his pristine white uniform a stark contrast against the smoky sky. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his face a mask of disapproval, eyes cold with barely restrained anger. Unlike the others, Viltrumite Mark carried himself with an almost regal bearing—shoulders squared, chin raised, every inch of him radiating authority.

"This doesn't concern you, old man," Sinister snarled.

His grip on Y/N remained unyielding, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her suit where it clung to her fever-dampened skin. The heat of his body radiated through the material, creating a cocoon of warmth that simultaneously comforted and alarmed her. His arm snaked possessively around her waist, resting just below her wound. The subtle pressure sent lightning bolts of pain through her abdomen, yet there was something intimately protective in the way he held her—like she was something precious he'd lost and miraculously found again.

Viltrumite Mark's expression hardened, the muscles in his jaw flexing beneath his skin like steel cables being pulled taut. Afternoon sunlight caught in his eyes, illuminating the amber flecks hidden within the depths of brown, giving them an almost supernatural glow. A subtle twitch appeared at the corner of his right eye—the only visible indication of his growing anger.

"Everything concerning her involves all of us," he stated, his voice dropping an octave, the words vibrating with barely restrained fury.

He moved closer, each step measured and precise, the pristine white of his uniform a stark contrast to the destruction surrounding them. The devastated forest stretched like a wound across the landscape, with uprooted trees, and shattered earth testament to the variants' earlier battle. The distant smoke of burning cities hung on the horizon, a grim reminder of the chaos they had unleashed upon this world.

"You will release her. Now." The command hung in the air, heavy with authority.

"Or what?" Sinister's lips stretched into a smile that was all teeth, gleaming white against his tanned skin.

His eyes never left Viltrumite Mark's face, challenge radiating from his posture—from the defiant tilt of his chin to the ready tension in his shoulders. His body coiled like a spring, prepared for conflict, fingers digging minutely deeper into Y/N's flesh. The small indentations would surely leave bruises, and violet shadows to mark his possession.

"You'll fight me? Go ahead," he taunted, his breath hot against Y/N's ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "But remember who bleeds if I drop her."

"Stop it," Y/N said, her voice stronger than she expected.

She pressed her palms against Sinister's chest, creating a small space between them. The firm muscle beneath her fingers tensed at her touch, his heartbeat pounding against her palms like a war drum. Her eyes flashed with determination despite the pain etched into the lines of her face, fever making her skin glow almost luminescent in the filtered sunlight that pierced through the swirling dust.

"I'm not a prize to be fought over," she declared, each word precise and cutting.

Both variants looked at her with surprise, clearly not expecting resistance from her in her weakened state. A bead of sweat traced its way down her temple, a testament to the infection raging through her system, yet her gaze remained steady and defiant.

Viltrumite Mark recovered first, his expression softening fractionally. The harsh lines around his mouth relaxed, though the tension in his powerful frame remained. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly, becoming less threatening while still maintaining his authority—a predator choosing to retract its claws, but only momentarily.

"Of course not," he agreed, inclining his head slightly. The gesture was almost courtly, a curious formality amidst the apocalyptic landscape. "You are far more valuable than any prize. Which is precisely why you should not be manhandled by this—" his lip curled with distaste, "—degenerate."

Sinister's laughter erupted, sharp and brittle like breaking glass. It bounced off the ruined landscape, echoing in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the devastated forest.

"Such hypocrisy!" he spat, the words dripping with contempt. "You fucking smell her too, don't you?"

He leaned in closer to Y/N, his nose brushing against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The intimate gesture was performed with deliberate provocation, his eyes remaining fixed on Viltrumite Mark, gleaming with malicious amusement. 

His lips, warm and soft, grazed her pulse point—not quite a kiss, but something more possessive, more primal. Y/N couldn't suppress the involuntary shudder that rippled through her body, her traitorous nerves responding to his touch despite her better judgment.

"Tell me, old man," Sinister continued, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that seemed to caress her skin, "does it burn you up inside knowing he got to her first? That she chose that cold, calculating bastard over the rest of us?"

Viltrumite Mark's nostrils flared as he took in the scene, his enhanced senses confirming what Sinister had said. The scent of another variant on Y/N's skin was unmistakable—the unique pheromonal signature of Omni lingering on her like an invisible brand. His expression hardened, the lines around his mouth deepening as his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped in his cheek.

The white of his uniform seemed to glow in the afternoon light, immaculate despite the chaos around him—a visual representation of his attempt to maintain control, to rise above the base instincts that drove the other variants.

"What have you done?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. His gaze fixed on Sinister, misinterpreting the situation. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking with the tension. "You think you can claim her? Mark her with your scent like some animal?"

Sinister's lips pulled back in a sneer, his arms tightening protectively around Y/N. For all his antagonism, there was something genuinely defensive in the way he held her now as if shielding her from judgment.

"Are you blind? I just fucking told you it wasn't me," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. The vein in his temple pulsed visibly with each heartbeat, his anger a living thing beneath his skin. "It was Omni. The so-called perfect, logical Mark couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Viltrumite's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed to slits. His carefully maintained composure cracked, revealing a glimpse of the fury beneath. The perfect stillness of his body was more threatening than any movement could have been.

"Liar," he snarled, launching himself at Sinister with blinding speed.

Sinister released Y/N just before impact, sending her tumbling through the air as he met Viltrumite Mark's charge. The collision sent shockwaves through the atmosphere, the sound like a thunderclap as the two variants grappled midair. Their bodies moved so quickly they became blurs of yellow, black, and white, punctuated by the explosive sounds of their blows connecting.

Y/N struggled to stabilize herself, her limbs heavy and uncooperative. The infection was spreading rapidly, sapping her strength with each passing moment. Her vision blurred, the world tilting dangerously around her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her skin flushed with fever despite the chill in the air. The edges of her sight darkened, threatening unconsciousness as her body fought the invasive infection.

Below, the battle had escalated. Omni and Mohawk had noticed the new conflict and were now involved in a four-way brawl that tore through what remained of the forest like a tornado. Trees snapped like toothpicks under the force of their blows, the earth itself cratering with each impact. The air vibrated with the concussive force of their combat, dust and debris swirling in chaotic patterns around the fighting variants.

Most of the forest had been uprooted, leaving a desolate wasteland punctuated by splintered stumps and massive trees embedded in the earth like javelins. Boulders had been pulverized into dust, the very ground scarred and cratered by their supernatural strength. The destruction was systematic and complete—a microcosm of what they had been doing to the entire planet.

Y/N watched in horror as the variants tried to tear each other apart. All because of her. All because each believed she belonged to them alone. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as if trying to escape. The stitches in her side pulled with each labored breath, blood still seeping through the bandages to stain her clothing.

"Stop!" she cried, her voice lost in the cacophony of destruction. Her face contorted with desperation, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Please, stop!"

Mohawk, his face twisted in a feral snarl, ripped a massive tree from the ground and hurled it at Omni. The red-suited variant easily dodged, the improvised projectile sailing past him toward Sinister and Viltrumite.

Both variants moved in unison, avoiding the missile without breaking their combat rhythm. Viltrumite punched the tree as it passed, splitting it in half. One section continued its trajectory, spinning wildly through the air.

Directly toward Y/N.

Under normal circumstances, she would have easily evaded the danger. But weakened by infection, disoriented by blood loss, and out of practice with her powers, Y/N found herself frozen in place. Her muscles locked, her mind blank with sudden panic, eyes wide with terror. The fever clouding her thoughts slowed her reactions to a crawl, leaving her hovering helplessly in the path of destruction.

The massive tree trunk hurtled toward her, and she couldn't move.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched the projectile approach, oddly detached from the reality of her impending doom. She could see the rough texture of the bark, and count the rings in the exposed wood where it had been torn from the earth. She could make out individual leaves still clinging to its branches, trembling in the disturbed air. She could hear the whistle of air being displaced as it approached, feel the subtle change in pressure against her skin.

"NO!" The cry came from multiple throats at once, a chorus of horror as all four variants realized her peril simultaneously.

They moved as one, abandoning their fights to converge on Y/N. Four blurs—red and white, blue and black, yellow and black, pure white—streaked through the air, racing against the projectile threatening to end her life.

Omni reached her first, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her aside. His body was solid and warm against hers, his grip secure yet careful to avoid her injury.

 The scent of him—clean, masculine, with undertones of sandalwood—enveloped her, familiar from the night before together. For a moment, despite the danger, her body responded to his proximity, remembering the gentle yet passionate way he had touched her in the cabin.

Sinister appeared a fraction of a second later, his body positioned to shield her from impact. His back pressed against her front, creating a protective sandwich with Omni behind her. The heat of his body seeped through her suit, his powerful back muscles tensing as he prepared to take the brunt of the impact. There was something achingly vulnerable in his willingness to use his body as a shield for her—this man who had helped destroy her world.

Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk arrived in the same instant, each grabbing part of the tree trunk, their combined strength bringing it to an abrupt halt mere inches from where Y/N now hovered in Omni's protective embrace. The wood splintered under their grip, sap oozing from the fresh breaks like amber tears.

The sudden silence was deafening after the chaos of battle. All four variants were breathing heavily, not from exertion but from fear—fear for her safety. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated, faces drained of color at how close they had come to losing her again.

Y/N stared at the tree trunk still held in Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk's grip, her heart hammering against her ribs. The blood drained from her face as shock set in, leaving her pale and trembling, her lips bloodless and parted in silent terror. 

For a moment, she couldn't process how close she'd come to death. Her mind struggled to reconcile the violence around her with the protective circle now forming.

A hot flush spread across her cheeks as she realized the intensity of their gazes. Each variant looked at her with fierce protectiveness—Omni's eyes burned with determination behind his mask, his jaw set tight; Mohawk's wild gaze was tempered with genuine fear, his usual sneer replaced with concern; Sinister's face showed naked possessiveness, his lips slightly parted and breath ragged; and Viltrumite Mark's regal features were softened by relief, his eyes reflecting a pain born from past loss.

Omni's arm tightened around her waist, careful to avoid her injury. "Are you alright?" he murmured in her ear, his voice low and urgent as his hot breath fanned over one side of her face.

Despite the mask covering his eyes, she could see the concern etched into every line of his face—the tight set of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows, the tension around his mouth. For once, his voice held a tremor of emotion, breaking through his usually perfect control. The hand at her waist moved in a small circle, a subtle, unconscious caress that sent warmth blooming through her despite her weakened state.

"I—yes," she managed, though her voice shook as badly as her limbs. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her weak and disoriented. Blood continued to seep through her bandages, the crimson stain spreading wider across the fabric. The world spun around her, fever and blood loss taking their toll. She leaned heavily against Omni, no longer able to support her own weight.

Mohawk and Viltrumite Mark discarded the tree trunk, letting it fall to the devastated landscape below with a thunderous crash. The four variants formed a protective circle around Y/N, their previous animosity temporarily forgotten in the wake of her near-miss. Their bodies created a wall between her and the world, a barrier made of flesh and bone and superhuman power.

Y/N looked at each of them in turn, seeing the intensity in their eyes, the tension in their faces, and the mix of possessiveness and genuine concern that animated their features. It was overwhelming, this circle of identical yet different men, all focused solely on her. Each face was the same, yet each expression was unique—Omni's controlled precision, Mohawk's volatile emotion, Sinister's predatory charm, Viltrumite Mark's regal authority.

"This is ridiculous," she said, her voice steadier now despite the blood loss making her light-headed. Her eyes flashed with defiance, fever giving them an unnatural brightness. "You're fighting over me like I'm some... some trophy, but none of you bothered to ask what I want."

The variants exchanged glances, a mixture of guilt and stubbornness on their faces. The tension between them was palpable, a living thing that crackled in the air like electricity. For a moment, no one spoke, the only sound was the distant crash of falling trees damaged in their battle.

Mohawk was the first to break the silence, a bark of laughter escaping his throat. The sound was harsh and abrupt, startling against the sudden quiet. His blue and black suit was torn in places, revealing tanned skin beneath. Dust and debris clung to his signature mohawk, dulling its usual sharp silhouette.

"Well, sleeping beauty, what do you want?" he asked, cocking his head to one side, his mohawk flopping slightly with the movement.

There was genuine curiosity beneath his usual bravado, his brown eyes searching her face intently. A drop of blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow, tracing a path down his temple like a crimson tear. His gaze flicked briefly to Omni's arm still wrapped around her waist, a scowl darkening his features.

"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like Omni already staked his claim." The accusation hung in the air, loaded with resentment and jealousy.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks, painfully aware of how she must appear to them—Omni's scent on her skin, her lips still swollen from his kisses, her body cradled protectively against his. She felt Omni's grip tighten almost imperceptibly around her waist, a silent claim that contradicted his seemingly logical demeanor. His thumb moved in a small, soothing circle against her side, the gesture intimate and possessive.

"I don't belong to anyone," she stated firmly, though her voice lacked some conviction as she remained in Omni's embrace. Her chin lifted defiantly, eyes flashing with feverish intensity. "Not the GDA, not Cecil, and not..." she hesitated, her eyes moving from one variant to the next, lingering on each identical yet distinct face, "...not any of you."

They all pause, as the air around them seems to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern before turning to normal…

She sighed ignoring it as a bitter laugh escaped her lips. The sound was hollow, edged with pain and frustration. "Without the collar, I don't serve a purpose for any of you. I'm not a weapon, not a tool to be used and discarded." The words burned in her throat, raw with emotion. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles white with tension.

Viltrumite Mark's expression softened almost imperceptibly. The hard lines around his mouth relaxed, his eyes warming with something akin to tenderness. The white of his uniform caught the late afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic appearance that belied the destruction he had helped cause.

"You misunderstand," he said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. 

"We used the collar as just another means for us convincing ourselves there was a logical approach to keeping you alive. Now without it, our claim still stands,” he hums softly.

“We don't seek to own you or use you. We seek to cherish you." A flicker of vulnerability crossed his usually stoic face, a glimpse of the man beneath the regal exterior. "Each of us lost you once. We cannot bear to lose you again."

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, the sincerity in his voice striking something deep within her. Before she could respond, another voice cut through the moment.

"Can't we all just have her?" The question came from behind them, unexpected and startling.

All heads turned to see No-Mask hovering several yards away, his expression unusually thoughtful. Unlike the others, his face was still fully visible, allowing Y/N to see the earnestness in his eyes, the slight uncertainty in the set of his mouth. His face was somehow softer, more open than the others, lacking the hardened edge that years of wearing a mask had given them.

Without the barrier of a mask, his emotions were laid bare—confusion, desire, hope all visible in his expressive features. The late afternoon sun gilded his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the depths of his unguarded eyes. There was something disarmingly honest about him that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her condition.

"What did you just say?" Sinister's voice was dangerously soft as he regarded No-Mask. His body tensed, readying for another potential fight, the muscle in his jaw jumping with tension.

"I mean, she's clearly important to all of us," No-Mask continued, his expression thoughtful. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that was both nervous and thoughtful. 

"Fighting over her is just going to get her killed." His eyes darted to Y/N's wound, concern evident in his gaze. "Look at her—she's already suffering because of our conflict."

Another figure appeared beside him, drifting lazily through the air. Prisoner Mark, his burned face twisted in a permanent sneer, his eyes roving over Y/N's body with unconcealed interest. The scar tissue pulled his lips into an asymmetrical grimace that might have been a smile. Light glinted off the metal restraints still attached to his wrists, remnants of his imprisonment that he wore like trophies.

"I mean, she's got three holes," he drawled, his voice rough and gravelly from smoke damage. 

"But we can make it work." His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the movement slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving Y/N's body. The crude suggestion hung in the air, made all the more disturbing by his casual delivery.

Disgust and revulsion flooded through Y/N, her stomach churning with nausea, her upper lip curling in distaste. Yet beneath her revulsion, there was something else—a flutter of confused interest as no one seemed to disagree with Prisoner's statement. The silence from the others was deafening, their lack of objection more telling than any words could have been.

She looked up at Omni, his hands still loosely around her waist. His face betrayed nothing, but the tension in his body told a different story. The muscles beneath his suit were coiled tight, his breathing carefully controlled. She thought she had built a connection with him in the cabin during their half-night together. She thought he saw her differently, as more than just a replacement for the Y/N he had lost. But now, surrounded by these men who all wore the same face, she wasn't sure anymore.

The realization hit her like a physical blow: Why were all these men so obsessed with her? Was it truly her they wanted, or the memory of the women they had lost? Was she nothing more than a ghost to them, a shadow of women long dead?

She needed to get away. Away from these men who looked at her like she was a prize to be won, a possession to be claimed. Away from the conflicting emotions they stirred within her—the disgust and the attraction, the fear and the longing.

With a desperate surge of strength, Y/N pushed Omni away and fled, pushing her weakened body to its limits as she shot through the air. The wind whipped past her face, cooling the fever heat of her skin. Below, the forest blurred into a sea of green, the destruction caused by the variants' battle a dark scar across the landscape.

Freedom was within her grasp. She could escape, could find somewhere to hide until she'd recovered enough to—

Strong hands closed around her waist, halting her flight so suddenly that the air was knocked from her lungs. Looking back, she found herself staring into Mohawk's face, his expression unexpectedly gentle despite the harsh lines etched around his mouth. The setting sun backlit his signature mohawk, creating a halo effect that softened his typically menacing appearance. Tiny beads of sweat glistened along his temples, catching the golden light. His jaw—usually set in a perpetual sneer—had relaxed, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm but gentle. His hands were steady on her waist, his grip secure without being painful. "Not in your condition."

Unlike the other variants, Mohawk wore his emotions openly on his face. The harsh lines around his mouth had softened, and his perpetually furrowed brow had relaxed. His eyes—those deep brown pools flecked with amber when caught in the right light—held a desperate intensity that made her breath catch. Behind the typical hardness of his expression lurked something raw and unguarded. When he looked at her, the snarky mask slipped, revealing not just desire but a terrifying depth of obsession.

Even now, as he held her suspended in the air, his thumbs absently traced small circles against her sides. The sensation sent shivers across her fevered skin, conflicting emotions of comfort and unease battling within her.

"Let me go," Y/N demanded, her voice weaker than she intended. She struggled against his hold, but her strength was fading rapidly. The infection was spreading, her temperature rising dangerously. Perspiration beaded on her forehead, trailing down her temples in rivulets that caught the dying sunlight like diamond tracks. Her skin flushed an alarming crimson, hot to the touch and stretched taut across her cheekbones. "I don't belong to any of you!"

"No, you don't," Mohawk agreed, surprising her. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his emotional state. The hand not supporting her waist came up to brush a sweat-soaked strand of hair from her forehead. His calloused fingers felt blessedly cool against her burning skin.

"But you need help. You're dying, Y/N. You are not a Viltrumite like the rest of us... you are man-made." His eyes dropped to her wound, where fresh blood was seeping through the bandages, the crimson stain spreading in a grotesque blooming pattern across the fabric. The metallic scent of her blood hung in the air between them, sharp and alarming. "Your body can't fight this infection without help."

The blunt assessment stopped her struggles. She knew he was right—could feel her body failing, the infection burning through her defenses like wildfire. Without proper medical care, she wouldn't survive much longer. The fever was clouding her thoughts, making her limbs heavy and uncooperative. Her vision blurred at the edges, reality wavering like heat rising from desert sand.

"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable. She searched his face, looking for deceit, for hidden motives. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across his features, highlighting the tension around his eyes, the tiny scar at his jawline she hadn't noticed before. A muscle jumped erratically beneath the skin of his cheek, betraying his carefully controlled emotions.

"I'm not your Y/N. I'm not any of your Y/Ns." Her voice cracked on the last word, raw emotion breaking through. "Why can't any of you just see me for ME?!"

Mohawk's expression softened, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyebrows drew together in an expression of heartbreaking honesty. "No, you're not," he acknowledged.

His eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. As she looked into their brown depths, she saw beyond the anger and violence that defined him—saw the obsession simmering beneath. 

Mohawk wasn't just attracted to her; he was consumed by her, possessed by her very existence in a way that bordered on terrifying. There was love there, yes, but twisted and desperate, born from loss and madness.

"But you're still Y/N. A different version, perhaps, but still the woman we all loved—in our own ways, in our own worlds." He faltered, struggling with words that didn't come easily to him. "Fuck it, I can't... Fuck," he mumbled, his composure cracking further.

His hands came up to her face, moving slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. Y/N glared at him but remained still, allowing his touch. His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against her fevered skin, calloused thumbs brushing across her cheekbones with a tenderness that seemed out of place amidst the destruction surrounding them.

The physical contrast was striking—his massive hands, capable of ripping trees from the earth and punching through concrete, now cradling her face as if she were made of spun glass. She could see the dirt embedded beneath his fingernails, the scrapes across his knuckles from the earlier battle, the slight tremor that betrayed his emotional state. Each point where his skin touched hers became an anchor in her fever-hazed world, electric and alive.

Mohawk's eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. She could see the microscopic dilation of his pupils as they fixed on her face, the slight moisture gathering at the corners, the way the afternoon light caught the amber flecks within the deep brown. Tiny blood vessels mapped the whites of his eyes, evidence of exhaustion and stress. His lashes—longer than she'd noticed before—cast faint shadows on his cheeks when he blinked.

He traced the contours of her face as if memorizing them, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly—like he was touching a ghost he'd never expected to see again. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, the touch feather-light yet sending shockwaves through her system. 

The pad of his thumb was rough, calloused from years of violence, yet his touch was exquisitely gentle.

"Please... fucking please, I waited so long..." he whispered, his voice breaking with need, quivering with a vulnerability that the cocky Mohawk would never normally allow anyone to hear. 

His eyes dropped to her lips, darkening with desire, his breath coming faster, stirring the loose strands of hair around her face. "Let me."

“I know Omni got to kiss you first... to hold you first... but I need this more than I've ever needed anything…” His expression spoke volumes, raw emotion written across features usually set in arrogant lines. The late afternoon sun caught in his eyes, illuminating the desperate yearning there—a silent plea that went beyond mere desire.

Despite everything—her anger, her confusion, her illness—Y/N found herself nodding, a barely perceptible movement. Mohawk leaned forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind. His lips brushed against hers, gentle and questioning at first, then with growing hunger as she didn't pull away.

He growled against her lips, a primal sound that vibrated through her core. He spoke against her lips. At this moment, nothing else existed—not the destruction below, not the other variants flying towards them, watching, not even the infection ravaging her body. There was only this connection, this single point where past and present converged.

The kiss deepened, his lips warm and insistent against hers. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he drew her closer. The slight scratch of his stubble against her skin added to the sensory overload, a delicious friction that contrasted with the surprising softness of his lips. Mohawk kissed with none of his usual aggression, instead with a desperate yearning that spoke of years of loneliness.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open briefly during the kiss, catching glimpses of his expression—eyes closed in concentration, brow relaxed, the harsh lines of his face softened by something akin to peace. When his eyes opened to meet hers, she saw naked adoration in them, dreamy and unfocused with desire. His lips, usually set in a hard line or cruel smirk, were soft against hers, moving with a gentleness that belied his brutal nature.

Despite his obvious hunger, he held himself in check, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss further, to run his hands over her body. She could feel the restraint in the tension of his muscles, in the careful placement of his hands—one at her waist, one at her nape, both trembling slightly with the effort not to crush her against him.

Y/N found herself responding, her hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath her palms. The solid warmth of him was like an anchor in a storm, steadying her as fever and desire made her head spin. His suit was damp with sweat and smooth against her fingertips, the powerful muscles beneath twitching at her touch. For a moment, the world around them faded—the destruction, the other variants, her illness—all of it receding as she lost herself in the passionate fire of his kiss.

He gently pulled her flush against him, a soft gasp escaping her as their bodies connected. The height difference between them meant that his evident arousal pressed against her stomach rather than her hips, the prominence of his bulge impossible to ignore even through his full-body suit. Glancing down briefly, she could see where the fabric stretched taut, a small dark stain spreading at the tip where his excitement had overcome even the containment of his uniform.

His response to her was primal and unashamed, his body reacting with an honesty his words couldn't match. Each small sound she made—each gasp and sigh—elicited a corresponding groan from him, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into her own. He mumbled incoherently against her lips, soft words meant only for her, desperate professions intermingled with curses.

"Oh god," he whispered against her mouth, the words half prayer, half profanity.

The moment was shattered by a growl of rage.

Y/N and Mohawk broke apart to find the other variants surrounding them, faces twisted with jealousy and possessiveness. The passionate moment dissolved into tension as four pairs of identical yet distinct eyes locked onto them with tangible fury.

Omni's usually composed features were dark with fury, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. The perfect order of his appearance had fractured—his hair disheveled from the earlier fight, a vein pulsing prominently at his temple, his breathing uncharacteristically ragged. What made the display so shocking was how completely it shattered his carefully maintained facade of control. 

Sinister's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits behind his black lenses, his shoulders rising and falling with each rapid breath. His gloved hands opened and closed reflexively at his sides, the leather creaking audibly with each movement. The smirk that typically adorned his face had vanished, replaced by a thin-lipped expression of pure rage. Unlike Omni, Sinister made no attempt to hide his emotions—his jealousy radiated from him in almost visible waves.

Viltrumite Mark's jaw worked silently beneath his skin, the muscle jumping erratically at the hinge. His white uniform, though still immaculate compared to the others, bore smudges of dirt and debris from the earlier conflict. His eyes never left Y/N's face, something possessive and dangerous lurking in their depths.

No-Mask's reaction was the most naked, his face contorted with undisguised pain and betrayal. Without the barrier of a mask, every emotion played across his features in high definition—the shock, the hurt, the jealousy. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as if the sight of Y/N in Mohawk's arms had robbed him of speech. A flush crept up his neck, staining his cheeks crimson with emotion.

HI gaze dropped momentarily to the prominent bulge in Mohawk's suit, the wet spot at the tip of his erection visible to all. No-Mask's expression shifted from pain to embarrassment to anger in rapid succession, his own body responding involuntarily to the sight of Y/N's flushed face and swollen lips.

Sinister caught the direction of No-Mask's gaze and let out a bark of laughter, the sound brittle and sharp. "Getting a little excited there, Mohawk? Can't say I blame you." His tone was deliberately casual, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his own jealousy. 

"Though I prefer a more... private approach to these matters." Despite his mocking words, there was an undercurrent of pure rage in his voice.

As soon as the other variants approached, Mohawk's arm tightened around Y/N, his moment of vulnerability disappearing behind a sneer. The air around them seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken tension as the others formed a loose circle around them, hovering like sentinels in the devastated sky.

Omni's face was a study in controlled panic. While his posture remained rigid and his movements precise, his jaw muscle twitched beneath the skin, a hairline fracture in his perfect composure. The corner of his left eye spasmed minutely, and a vein at his temple pulsed in rhythm with his accelerated heartbeat. His breathing was deliberately measured, each inhale and exhale carefully calibrated to maintain the illusion of calm while his eyes, behind his mask, never left Y/N's face.

"I thought we forged something unique in the cabin," he stated, his voice carefully neutral despite the accusation inherent in the words. "Was that a lie?"

Sinister's head tilted slightly forward like a predator tracking wounded prey. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening in the afternoon light. The corner of his mouth curled upward in a half-smile that never reached his eyes—eyes hidden behind black lenses that reflected Y/N's own pale face back at her.

"Don't act so surprised, Omni," he taunted, his voice silky with malice. "Did you think she would be satisfied with your clinical approach to pleasure? Your calculated touches and precisely timed kisses?" He moved closer to Y/N and Mohawk, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face with unexpected gentleness. "She needs passion, fire... not your cold logic."

No-Mask couldn't contain his panic, hovering several feet away, hands opening and closing at his sides. His eyes were wide and wild, darting between Y/N and the blood seeping through her bandages. The crimson stain had grown significantly larger during the brief kiss, the fabric now saturated to a disturbing degree.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Viltrumite Mark snarled, his regal composure shattered completely. His pristine white uniform stood in stark contrast to the chaos of his emotions, the fabric rippling as his muscles tensed beneath. His usually authoritative demeanor had given way to something raw and urgent. "She's dying, and you're all fighting over who gets to kiss her next? Are your dicks controlling your brains now?"

The crude phrasing from the typically dignified Viltrumite Mark shocked them all into momentary silence. He no longer hovered regally above them but had descended to their level, hands clenched into fists at his sides, jaw set in a hard line.

"You need medical attention," Omni stated, his voice steady despite the worry evident in his eyes. A single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple, disappearing beneath the edge of his mask. His hands opened and closed at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking softly with each movement. "The infection is spreading rapidly. If we don't act soon, you'll die."

"So what?" Y/N challenged, her voice brittle with pain and defiance. She pushed away from Mohawk, her movements uncoordinated and weak. Blood had soaked through her bandages completely now, the fabric dark and heavy against her skin. The metallic scent hung in the air around her, sharp and concerning. Her eyes burned with fever, pupils dilated and unfocused as she swept her gaze across all of them. "Why should I trust any of you? You came here to destroy my world, to kill everyone!"

The accusation hung in the air between them, sharp and undeniable. The devastation below—uprooted trees, cratered earth, the distant smoke of burning cities—stood as mute testament to her words. From their elevated position, they could see the destruction that stretched to the horizon—forests flattened, roads cratered, and buildings reduced to rubble. In the distance, several pillars of smoke rose from what had once been thriving communities, now reduced to ash and debris.

Silence fell over the group, heavy with unspoken guilt. It was Sinister who finally broke it, his usual swagger absent as he spoke.

"Because we lost you once," he said, his voice low and controlled, though something in it wavered ever so slightly. He didn't remove his black lenses, but the set of his mouth—usually twisted in a cruel smirk—had softened into something almost vulnerable. "All of us, in different ways. And it broke us."

He gestured around at the assembled variants, his movements precise and measured, lacking their usual predatory grace.

"Look at what we became without you. Monsters. Killers." He paused, a smirk returning to his lips as he added, "Well, I was always a killer. Enjoyed it, too. But the others..." He let the implication hang, eyes hidden behind his black lenses but his meaning clear.

He floated closer to Y/N, his approach cautious, as if afraid she might flee again. When he stood before her, he did something unexpected—he took her hand in his, the leather of his glove warm against her skin as his thumb traced gentle circles on her wrist.

"I know you're not her—not my Y/N," he said softly. "But when I saw you, something inside me that died with her came back to life." His free hand hovered near her face, trembling slightly before he let it fall away, as if he didn't trust himself. "I can't lose that again. I can't go back to being just an... empty fucking killer without you."

"Planet shit doesn't fucking matter!" Mohawk's voice cracked with emotion, the smooth veneer he usually wore shattering like glass. He pushed forward, hovering closer, his face contorted with an emotion too complex to name. Sweat beaded along his hairline, causing strands of hair to stick to his forehead in dark, damp tendrils. His gaze never left Y/N's face, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. The prominent bulge still strained against his suit, a visible reminder of their interrupted kiss.

"The main point is—" He stopped, struggling to find the right words. In a movement both desperate and gentle, he pushed Sinister out of the way to take her hands in his. Sinister's face darkened with anger, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he was forced aside.

Mohawk looked deeply into her eyes, his own intense and sincere. The pupils were so dilated that only a thin ring of color remained visible, black swallowing brown in a visual representation of his emotional state. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His expression mirrored the vulnerability he'd shown during their kiss—raw, unfiltered emotion that he'd never allow anyone else to witness.

"We won't fucking lose you again," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that seemed to caress her skin like a physical touch. The sound vibrated in the air between them, intimate despite their audience. His grip on her hand tightened fractionally, not enough to hurt but enough to convey his desperation. "Even if we have to share you. We can find a way to work it out."

The last sentence hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Y/N's stomach flutter despite her condition. Mohawk leaned closer, his breath warm against her face as he uttered a final promise, the words carrying the weight of an oath: "You will love us, Y/N... Love me..."

The declaration sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with her fever. There was something in his tone—a certainty, a devotion—that both frightened and thrilled her.

Before she could respond, the air around them seemed to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern. 

The variants tensed, sensing the disturbance—a tension in reality that they'd felt earlier but had ignored in their confrontation. Now it returned, stronger and more insistent like fabric being stretched to its breaking point.

With a sound like reality tearing, a black portal materialized twenty feet away in the air. The edges crackled with dark energy, ribbons of shadow writhing around its circumference like living things. From its depths, a body was thrown—no, hurled—into their midst.

Darkwing crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, his body a broken, bloody mess. His costume was in tatters, revealing flesh beneath that was more wound than skin. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, clearly ripped backward if not worse. The other appeared to be barely attached, held to his body by thin strips of muscle and costume fabric. His mask was half torn away, revealing a face so bruised and bloodied it was barely recognizable as human. Through split and swollen lips, he drew rattling breaths, each one sounding more painful than the last.

From the portal stepped a figure that radiated casual cruelty—Lensless Mark. His uniform was tattered and ripped, his face and hands spattered with blood. Unlike the other variants, his mask resembled that of a luchador, lacking the traditional goggles and giving his face a strangely naked quality despite being covered. His lips were curled in a smile that held no warmth, only satisfaction at the suffering he'd caused. Areas of his suit were torn at the pecs and abdomen, revealing tanned, scarred skin beneath.

"How touching. The monsters have found their beauty," he drawled, his gaze sweeping over the assembled variants before landing on Y/N.

All heads turned to face him, bodies instinctively shifting to place themselves between Y/N and the newcomer. The protective formation happened without discussion or planning—a unified response from men who moments ago had been at each other's throats.

"So this is what's been keeping you all distracted," he continued, his gaze roving over Y/N's body with interest. Unlike the others, there was no warmth in his assessment, only a cold calculation that made her skin crawl. "I was wondering where everyone disappeared to after I got trapped in there. NO fucking help came for me. "

His appearance shocked the other variants. They had believed him dead, pulled into the shadowverse by Darkwing. Their expressions reflected their confusion and growing concern. With the war still ongoing and so few of them remaining after the brutal fighting, Lensless's return was an unexpected complication.

"What did you all call her? Y/N?" he mused, his head tilting as if considering the name. "Hmm. Yes. Rather mundane, isn't it?"

"This doesn't concern you," Omni said, his voice icy as he shifted to partially block Y/N from Lensless's view. His body language was pure protectiveness now, all traces of his earlier jealousy subsumed by this new threat.

Lensless laughed, the sound sharp and without humor. "Oh, but it does. Angstrom is looking for all of you. The final phase is about to begin." His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he focused on Y/N again. 

"Though I must say, I'm curious about what makes this one so special that you'd take a detour from our true mission."

In a movement almost too fast to follow, he appeared directly in front of Y/N, brushing past the protective circle of variants. His gloved hand reached out, gripping her chin and tilting her face up to his. His touch was neither gentle nor especially rough, simply... clinical. His thumb pressed against her lower lip, forcing it down slightly as he examined her face like a specimen.

"Awww I don't see it," he pronounced, his voice tinged with disappointment. 

"She looks like any other human to me. Fragile. Breakable." His grip tightened fractionally, enough to make Y/N wince. "Already dying from a simple infection. Pathetic."

The attack came from all sides at once.

Mohawk's fist connected with Lensless's jaw, the impact creating a sonic boom that shattered what few intact tree branches remained below. The punch sent Lensless spinning backward, a spray of blood arcing through the air from his split lip.

Before he could recover, Sinister appeared behind him, driving a knee into his spine with such force that Y/N could hear the vertebrae crack. The blow arched Lensless's back at an unnatural angle, his mouth opening in a silent scream of pain.

Omni and Viltrumite Mark moved in perfect unison, like dancers who had rehearsed for years. Omni struck high, his calculated punch landing precisely at the junction of Lensless's neck and shoulder, targeting the cluster of nerves there. Viltrumite Mark struck low, his fist driving into Lensless's solar plexus with enough force to expel all air from his lungs.

The combination of blows sent Lensless plummeting toward the devastated forest below. He crashed through three massive oak trees before hitting the ground with enough force to create a small crater, dirt, and debris exploding outward from the impact site.

No-Mask circled around, waiting for his opportunity, his face set in lines of determination rarely seen on his usually expressive features. He hovered above the impact site, ready to intercept if Lensless attempted to flee.

Y/N hovered, forgotten in the chaos of battle, her condition worsening by the second. The world tilted and spun around her, fever making everything blur at the edges. She pressed a hand to her wound, feeling fresh blood seep between her fingers. The warmth of it was alarming, spreading across her abdomen in a widening stain.

Below, the battle had expanded, the variants using the devastated landscape as both weapon and battleground. Mohawk tore a shattered tree trunk from the ground, hurling it at Lensless with enough force to level a building. The makeshift projectile whistled through the air, trailing leaves and splinters in its wake before Lensless dodged at the last second. The trunk embedded itself in the hillside behind him, quivering with the force of impact.

Omni calculated his trajectories, using precision strikes to herd Lensless into Sinister's path. Each punch was measured and deliberate, not seeking to cause damage but to manipulate Lensless's movements. Where Lensless dodged one blow, he found himself in the path of another, Omni's strategy becoming clear as Lensless was forced closer and closer to where Sinister waited.

Viltrumite Mark moved with regal fury, each blow causing sonic booms to ripple through the air. His white uniform was a blur of motion, seeming to be everywhere at once. Unlike the others, his attacks held nothing back—each punch and kick was delivered with the full force of his Viltrumite strength, intended not to subdue but to destroy.

Despite being outnumbered, Lensless held his own, his childish laughter echoing across the battlefield as he taunted and dodged. His fighting style was unpredictable, and chaotic, making him difficult to pin down. Where the others fought with purpose and strategy, Lensless fought like a child pulling wings from insects—with casual cruelty and evident enjoyment.

"You're all pathetic!" he called out, evading another coordinated attack. His voice carried across the battlefield, high and mocking. 

"Pining after a ghost! She's not even the same woman you lost!"

His words struck deeper than any physical blow could have. For a moment, hesitation rippled through the attacking variants, a half-second of doubt that Lensless immediately exploited. He surged upward, breaking free of their formation, and shot directly toward Y/N.

"Let's see how quickly you forget her when she's gone for good," he snarled, his hand reaching for her throat. The afternoon sun glinted off his gloved hand as it stretched toward her, fingers curled like talons.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched him approach, her body too weak to move, her mind oddly clear despite the fever. She could see every detail of his face as he neared—the hatred in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth, the tiny scar that bisected his right eyebrow. She could hear the panicked shouts of the other variants as they raced to intercept him, too far away to reach her in time.

In that moment of perfect clarity, something shifted inside her. The power that had been dormant since they'd removed the GDA collar flickered to life, responding to her desperate need. Energy surged through her veins, temporarily burning away the fever's fog.

As Lensless's hand closed around her throat, Y/N's eyes began to glow with an inner light. The blue-white radiance started at her pupils, spreading outward until her entire eyes were luminous pools of energy. Power radiated from her in visible waves, her hair lifting in an invisible wind, strands floating around her face like a dark halo. Her skin took on an ethereal glow, veins beneath the surface illuminated with the same blue-white light that consumed her eyes.

Her hand shot up, gripping his wrist with strength that belied her condition. Her fingers—moments ago weak and trembling—now closed around his arm with crushing force. The material of his suit compressed beneath her grip, the bones of his wrist grinding together audibly.

"Not today," she whispered, her voice resonating with newfound power. The sound seemed to come not just from her throat but from the air around them, as if reality itself amplified her words.

The energy exploded outward from her body in a concussive wave, sending Lensless flying backward with such force that he created a trench in the earth when he landed. The ground split open beneath the impact, dirt and rock spraying outward like water from a broken dam. Trees that had survived the earlier battles were flattened in concentric circles from the epicenter of Y/N's power.

The other variants braced themselves against the blast, shielding their eyes from the brilliant light emanating from Y/N. The wave passed over them, powerful enough to push them back but not to harm them—as if her power somehow recognized them as not-enemies.

For a moment, she hovered above them all, radiant and terrible, her body still suspended in the air by her own power. The infection that had been killing her was temporarily burned away by the energy coursing through her system. Her wound glowed from within, the damaged tissue knitting itself back together visibly, the process accelerated to a speed visible to the naked eye.

Beneath her torn clothing—the fabric of her suit shredded across her abdomen, exposing the smooth skin beneath—they could see muscle and tissue regenerating. The deep gash that had been leaking crimson life across her stomach closed before their eyes, angry red flesh knitting together with pulsing blue-white light. The tattered edges of her suit fluttered in the energy field emanating from her body, occasionally revealing glimpses of the curve of her breast where the fabric had been torn diagonally across her chest. The legs of her suit, stained dark with blood and dirt, ripped low on her hips, frayed and revealing a sliver of skin just above her hipbone.

The variants watched in awe, their identical faces transformed by different shades of the same emotion—wonder mixed with desire, concern tangled with reverence. The setting sun cast them all in amber light, highlighting the tension in their jaws, the dilation of their pupils, the parted lips as they struggled to comprehend what they were witnessing.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the power faded. The light dimmed, starting with her skin, then her veins, until finally, her eyes returned to their natural color. The glow receded like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving Y/N looking small and vulnerable once more. Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion replacing the momentary strength, and she began to fall.

Five figures moved as one, racing to catch her. The air crackled with their passage as they broke the sound barrier, converging on Y/N's falling form from different directions. They reached her simultaneously, each grabbing a part of her with careful strength—Omni supporting her shoulders, his gloved hands cradling her with gentle precision; Mohawk at her waist, his fingers splayed possessively across her exposed midriff; Viltrumite Mark securing her legs, his normally stoic expression softened with concern; Sinister cradling her head with uncharacteristic gentleness, leather-gloved fingers threading through her hair; and No-Mask hovering protectively above them all, his unobscured face displaying every nuance of his worry.

As a unit, they descended to the forest floor, moving in perfect coordination despite their earlier antagonism. They touched down on a relatively undamaged clearing, gently lowering Y/N onto one of the few untouched patches of soft grass left. The setting sun painted the scene in gold and crimson, the long shadows of the men stretching across Y/N's still form like protective fingers.

Omni knelt beside her, his pulse quickening beneath his uniform as his fingers sought the pulse at her neck. The skin there was soft and warm against his fingertips, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a counterpoint to his own racing pulse. 

"It's steady," he reported, relief evident in the softening of his shoulders. The usually immaculate lines of his uniform were marred by dust and blood, a physical manifestation of the cracks appearing in his carefully constructed facade. 

"The wound is healed on the surface, but the internal damage may remain. Her fever has broken, but she's severely dehydrated and exhausted."

"What the hell was that?" No-Mask asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at Y/N's unconscious form. His hand hovered near her face, not quite touching, trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. Unlike the others, his unmasked face revealed every emotion—awe, desire, fear—all written clearly in the widening of his eyes and the tension around his mouth. A smear of dirt marked his left cheek, a bead of sweat tracing its way down his temple. 

"I've never seen power like that from any Y/N in our universes."

"The GDA must have modified her differently in this reality," Viltrumite Mark mused, his regal stance betrayed by the concern in his eyes as they remained fixed on Y/N's face. His white uniform, normally pristine, bore the marks of battle—a tear across the chest, a smudge of dirt on the shoulder, droplets of blood spattered across the fabric. The sun caught in his hair, turning the brown strands gold at the edges. 

"Perhaps removing the collar didn't just free her from their control but unlocked abilities they were suppressing."

"Who gives a fuck about the how," Mohawk interjected, pacing restlessly nearby. Each step left an impression in the soft earth, his movements jittery with excess adrenaline. His signature hairstyle, usually maintained with meticulous precision, now lay partially flattened on one side, giving him a lopsided, almost vulnerable appearance. A bead of sweat traced the sharp angle of his jaw, disappearing beneath the high collar of his suit. "Did you see what she did to Lensless? One fucking touch and she sent him flying like a rag doll."

A grin spread across his face, carving deep lines around his eyes that crinkled with genuine joy rather than his usual cynicism. He gestured expansively, his gaze never leaving Y/N's still form. "My—our girl's got teeth."

His expression softened as he knelt beside her, one gloved hand hesitantly reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. The touch was feather-light, his fingertips lingering on her temple with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his usual brutality. "She's more than just a pretty face. She's fucking magnificent." The admiration in his voice was tinged with possessiveness, his eyes darkening as he added, "And she's ours."

"She's not out of danger," Omni cautioned, his hand resting lightly on Y/N's forehead. Though cooler than before, her skin still held an unnatural warmth beneath his touch. A muscle in his jaw twitched with suppressed emotion, a hairline crack in his usually perfect control. 

"That power surge likely depleted what little reserves she had left. She needs proper care, not just field medicine."

A groan from the nearby trench reminded them that Lensless was still a threat. The sadistic variant was pulling himself from the ground, blood streaming from multiple wounds. His suit was torn across the chest and abdomen, revealing muscled flesh beneath, scored with deep gashes that oozed crimson. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheek mottled with bruises. Blood dripped steadily from his split lip, splattering onto the churned earth beneath him in a rhythmic pattern. Despite his injuries, his visible eye gleamed with manic intensity, and his lips were twisted in a grin that spoke of insanity rather than humor.

"You think this changes anything?" he called, staggering to his feet. Each movement was labored, with evidence of broken bones and internal injuries. Blood dripped steadily from his fingertips, pattering onto the churned earth beneath him like macabre raindrops. His chest heaved with each breath, a wet rattle suggesting punctured lungs or broken ribs. Still, he straightened, defiant even in defeat.

"She'll die, just like all the others. And you'll all go back to being the monsters you truly are," he taunted, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground. The crimson spatter formed a grotesque pattern at his feet, shining wetly in the dying light. "We still have a mission to complete! Fuck this world and its beings. Angstrom is waiting for us!"

Mohawk's expression darkened, shadows gathering in the hollows of his cheeks as a savage smile spread across his face. "You know what? I'm going to enjoy this." He cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunshots in the quiet forest. His body tensed, muscles bunching visibly beneath his suit as he readied for the kill.

"Go," he said to Omni without taking his eyes off Lensless. "Take her to the meeting point with Angstrom. I'm done with this piece of shit."

Omni hesitated, looking down at Y/N's pale face. For once, indecision was written clearly in the set of his shoulders, the tension around his mouth. The evening light caught the moisture gathering in his eyes, transforming them into pools of liquid amber behind his mask. A single tear escaped, tracking a clean path through the dust on his face before falling onto Y/N's cheek—a glistening diamond against her flushed skin.

"Don't die," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. The kiss was feather-light, almost reverent, his breath warm against her skin, carrying the scent of aftershave and something uniquely him. His fingers brushed her cheek, lingering as if trying to memorize the texture. "Please."

With that, he was gone, streaking through the sky with Y/N held securely against his chest. His arms formed a protective cage around her, one hand cradling her head against his shoulder while the other supported her back. The wind whipped past them, ruffling her hair and cooling her fevered skin.

The remaining variants turned as one toward Lensless, spreading out to surround him. The setting sun cast long shadows ahead of them, turning four figures into monstrous silhouettes against the devastated landscape.

"Four against one?" Lensless laughed, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand, leaving a crimson smear across his cheek. The sound was wet and choked, bubbles of blood forming at the corners of his mouth. "Hardly seems fair."

"Good," Sinister replied, his smile all teeth, sharp canines gleaming in the dying light. His eyes were cold behind his black lenses, his posture deceptively relaxed even as his fingers flexed in anticipation. 

"We don't play fair anymore."

–––––––––

As Omni flew with Y/N toward their destination, her eyes fluttered open briefly. Sunlight filtered through clouds, casting dappled patterns across her face as the wind tousled her hair. Despite her condition, a small smile curved her lips as she looked up at him, raising a hand weakly to touch his face.

"You're crying," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of wind. Her fingers, warm and gentle, traced the damp trail on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

"No, I'm not," he denied automatically, his usual defenses kicking in even as another tear escaped to contradict him. The droplet caught the light, transforming into a prism for a heartbeat before the wind whisked it away.

Y/N's smile widened slightly, her hand weakly reaching up to touch his cheek again. Her fingers came away damp, glistening in the sunlight. Her lips, still tender from Mohawk's earlier kisses, parted slightly as she whispered, "Liar."

A laugh escaped him, the sound rusty from disuse. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the tension in his jaw easing for the first time since they'd arrived in this universe. 

"Just stay with me," he urged, tightening his hold on her slightly. Her body fit perfectly against his as if designed as his missing piece. "We're almost there."

"Will you share?" she asked, her voice fading as consciousness began to slip away again. Her eyelids grew heavy, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks like butterfly wings. "With the others?"

The question caught him off guard, making him falter slightly in his flight. "What?"

"Will you share... me? Can you all... love me?" Each word seemed to cost her tremendous effort, her eyelids growing heavier with each syllable. Her fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his suit, holding on as if afraid he might vanish.

Omni was silent for a long moment, considering. The idea of sharing her with the others—his other selves—went against every possessive instinct he had. His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin as he battled with himself. And yet... if the alternative was losing her entirely...

"Yes," he finally said, the word feeling strange on his tongue. His voice softened as he added, "If that's what you want."

The admission sent an unexpected warmth through him. The knot of tension in his chest—a constant companion since he'd lost his Y/N—loosened slightly. Perhaps sharing her was the only way any of them could truly have her. Perhaps, in this fractured reality, they could find a new kind of wholeness with her.

Their Y/n.

–––––––––––––––

I'm losing motivation for this story (Even though I already had the whole storyboard written out). (っ- ‸ - ς), But I'll PULL THROUGH! Let me know if you guys are interested in more plot and perhaps smut later on in the story. Quite literally, maybe even the next chapter...

I'm really trying to include 'love' for all the variants. let me know if you want another or specific one to be included more.

Lensless Mark = No Goggles Mark

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

I love thinking ☺

How They’d React

A Headcanon List - Reader Insert

How [name] would react to:

You wearing their clothes

You surprising them at work for the first time

You telling them you were pregnant

Waking up next to you for the first time

Seeing you naked for the first time

You surprising them at home after they’d been a work all day

You baking them their favourite treats without them even needing to ask

Seeing you talking to your ex

Finding you crying

Hearing that you were seriously injured

Realising what they said had hurt you

Hearing other people flirt with you

Bumping into you all the time when you’re nothing but strangers to each other

You asking them out on a date rather than the other way around

Seeing you in your wedding attire

Being there when you gave birth to your first child

Finding out you hadn’t seen their favourite movie or tv show

Finding out you’d dated someone they knew/one of their friends in the past

feel free to use these however if you do perhaps leave credit by tagging me and including a link to my original post? thanks!

Summer Drinks 🍒🍑🍓

Character of choice x Girly!Black Reader Drabbles

So, imagine you and your man it the summertime and the two of you want to get away for a while; you call off work, he books the destination, you pack all necessary items and your off to a dream vacay! On the plane your lover holds your hand and smiles his fear f heights calmed into just small thought floating around huge thoughts of vacation travels and your new pretty tiny bikini ( this is for plus-size too! Be sexy girllll)

After the plane ride your lover paid the airport for a car so you wouldn't have to wait for a Lyft and yalls off the paradise, the palm trees swaying in the breezy winds, your nose smells ocean water and a hint of sandy fumes. As he drives his hand is on your thigh holding you as close as he can, your hair draped down your back and your hand out the window feeling the breeze. He backs into your resort parking and leads you through a hotel of green! Plants of monstera plants and smaller palm trees, the bar filled with fruity smells and liquors catching your eye; you tell him to check in while you waltz to the bar reading over a chalk board menu you order a " Fruitful Margarita with salt on the rim with extra cherries on the size" The bartender smiles and whips up one of the most flavorful margaritas you've ever drank.

Your lover comes back around after putting up your bags and holds onto your waist commenting on the drink, you ask about the bags, and he told you he put them up, you're feeling bad offers him a sip of drink and he sips it once, then twice, then he takes the cups and almost downs it! Shocked you gently take it back and orders him one while he looked over the menu for a tiny snack, with two drinks and some chips you both with drinks in hand explore your ocean side resort; Lover boy looks into the gym and jacuzzi while you look at a tiki themed pool, the people there either relaxing in the beaming sun or swimming in the pool with gleeful smiles, walking two the water your lover comes behind you and leads you towards a table. He such a worry wart as he spreads sunscreen on your legs and arms and ties your hair up.

Smiling in the water as you float and sway you see an older lady with a smoothie from one of the tiki hunt bars, getting from the pool you walk over again to the menu and see " Achol infused breezy peachy smoothie!" Wow! this place is coming up with some names, ordering two you walk over to your lover wow relaxing with headphones and closed eyes, he peaks open an eye to you sitting down and passing him the drink, he sips it once, then twice, then slurps the peachy drink down and you watch as you take tiny sips.

Now it night time, you've showered with all summer products smelling like a coconut or pineapple woman and lover hugs your frame kissing upon your neck in a tipsy daze, you both head down and hop in the car (don't drink and drive) the sounds of club music and smells of ocean water parties fills your nose as you look out the window, him shows you this club you've gotten free tickets too! He opens your door and your pretty pink dress flows in the winds as your sandals hit the wooden floor, the club lights are fire lit torches and the booths decorated with grassy theme decor, as people dance you and your lover order an appetizer and you again order another summery drink buttttt this time it's a night life happy hour " 2 drinks for the price of 1! From beers to wines Order Now!" You look over ever every drink settling for a " Tiki Man Pineapple Mimosa" and him a beer.

Now after a few more drinks and dancing the night away you've landed yourself on the bed with a huff, your sandals well one sandal on your foot as the other one you kicked out at the door you lover peels the other one off and asks did you enjoy your day? In your drunken daze you giggle and smile adding away, he tells you to wake up so you can shower, and change. After a nice bath and you oiled up your body and put on some loose pjs and you lay don next to him, with a kiss on the forehead and a few pillow talks you both drift off to a slumber.

Summer Days: 1 done, 19 More to go!

A.N: ( IM MAKING A SERIES THIS WHOLE SUMMER YALLS. I missed writing so for the rest of summer imma push a summer themed storys. Like its nit a collab but ya'know just writing stuff)

Like and comment if you likeeee!!

Pretty girl

Tsubaki x Black Reader ( we a girly girl now!)

F/c= Favorite Color

f/ch= favorite character

s/s= shoe size

" She's a lovely girl, I wish she would see it though."

' Tsubaki, she honestly the prettiest girl I've ever seen! I mean look at how stunning she is! She has pretty hair, cute outfits, and she has the patience of God she's like Anna Hathway! But she never sees it...'

I think this as I boredly stare at the board, Steins trying to dissect some bird again and Maka trying to stop him? I dunno I just twirl my hair and daydream when Patty taps my shoulder.

" Hm? Oh, hey patty girl" I smiled at her.

"Hiiii! Me and Liz, Tsubaki, and Maka was thinking of going to the shops after classes today and I want YOU to come!" She's like honestly like a mind reader or somethings because, I was going to go to like the thrift or the shoe store because I literally have nothing to wear!

" Omg! I legit love you, I'll go! When we leaving" I open my phone and try to set alarm because Death knows I can't keep up with the time when I'm going somewhere. Patty sends me the time and where to me and we talk about random things like does Lord Death know how to do cartwheels, can aliens turn into objects, do animals try to put on clothes? Ok Soul looked at us weird when he heard me say I thought animal testing was animals rating products...

*After Classes, around 2:45 and We in our room in a choas*

" I SWEAR I HATE FASHION SOMETIMES!"

I scream into my pillows, like nothings ever goes right!? I have a denim skirt that I thrifted, and I wanted to pair that with this white halter top but, it dirty and I can't wear it again because I stupidly spilled like red sauce on it! Which is confusing because it's not ketchup so what is it? I dunno so, I try a pink long sleeve but nooo its hotter than ever and I have nothing else to pair it with!

As I flip through the piles and piles of clothes I get a knock on my door, my meister/weapon is out for a family trip, so I answered and there goes pretty girl.

" Hey reader! wanted to come over before our hangout to see you."

Tsubaki tender smile graced her lips, and I smiled back subconsciously. I let her in and I sigh sadly.

" Tsubaki help me pleaseeee, which shirt pink halter with dark denim or yellow thank top and light blue jeans?" I switch the shirts put and down so she can see, and she takes a moment to pick.

" Pink top, it matches the jewelry you have"

" You're a genius!" I squeal and run to change clothes, thank Death I had just my locs in two ponytails (or whatever style you wanna wear). A spritz of perfume or 50 spritz and a twirl in the mirror and I walk out with a strut.

" I look fabulous, I look like coquette icon who Lana Del Ray? I see only Reader Del Slay!" I cockily strut around the room while Tsubaki chuckles and acts like a fan girl.

" Omg! Its reader!? Omg sign my shirt!" We both giggle at that and I grab my keys and we walk out my dorm, its 10 minutes before we supposed to meet up Patty and them so we just walk around campus talking about what we've been up too.

" So, your saying BlackStar had to go to the school nurse because he...fell off a building trying what now?"

" It's honestly still confusing to me" Tsubaki sighs pitifully, and I giggle at that. We walk to the entrance of the DWMA and we see Patty, Liz, and Maka waving at us. We walked down and we headed to our first store; 'Deathly Good Looks' it's like a thrift store but, no granny clothes a lot of vintage items and a bunch of items from the late 80's to mid 2000's. We walk around trying on sunglasses, hats, and purses and I move onto the back of the store looking for anything pink or f/c and fav/ch, as I looked around, I see Tsubaki looking at this dress with wonder..

" Ouu! Thats so pretty, your gonna try it on?"

" Hm, you think I should? I don't know if it'll be as cute on me"

I don't know but when she said that I almost tackled her, WHAT DOES SHE MEAN!? She could pull off a garbage bag and I'll want to wear it!

" What do you mean!? You'll look like a 90's baddie with this! especially if you wear some brown sandals, shades, and have a cute hair style you'll look better than the girl who first owned it!"

Tsubaki blushes at that and I wished I paid more attention to that though; I push her towards the dressing room and tell her to try it on; she takes a few minutes and when she comes out, I couldn't help myself.

" GOOD GOOGGLY MOOGLY WHATS ALLAT BACK THERE!"

I didn't even to say it! But the dress said her body was teaaa and the way she just walked out like she ain't all of us up?? Who does she think is?

" So, it is pretty? I like it" She asks looking in the mirror.

" I'll bite you" I say intense, and she laughed, the girls came over and complemented the dress on her and she changed back; we paid for our items and headed to the shoe store, since the kishin was released we've all had no late-night curfews unless you had a mission or a kishin was around, so we headed to the shoe store quick.

At the store I think I was in heaven honestly from platforms, pumps, flats this store would be bankrupt without me like I'm single handily an unofficial official owner! We look around and I show Maka some sandals that would match this dress she wore to the death anniversary, I saw some Bebe slippers and I went to see what size they we're a perfect s/s! I put them in a mini basket they have and look for more shoes today wasn't that good a lot of sneakers which I should've got if the sandals weren't telling me to buy them! Liz and Patty had like 50 carts of shoes and Tsubaki had a few items, we paid for those items after telling the twins when are they going to wear 'stripper heels'? And we headed to a nice diner close to the school.

We ordered our food I got a tiny burger and fries (if tiny means a sonic burger with a side of large fries and a triple Oreo fudge milkshake then yea girl...tiny) and we sat down and talked and gossiped about the boys, what drama was around, and stuff we've been doing. As we talked and ate, I kept staring at Tsubaki...omg that's sounds so creepy I gotta fid away with words, or is it thoughts since I'm not speaking? I don't know point still stands! But she's so pretty it's hard not too! She caught me a few times and blushed this time I saw and it's so cute I wanna bite her but, that'll be weird.

When we were done, we headed back to the dorms and said our byes, me and Tsubaki headed to her dorm since we were only one level down.

" Hey.. so, a saw you staring at me at the diner, I just wanted to see if you was ok?" ...' I'm not a spy, I'm not smooth, how could she see me I thought my side-eye was perfect! Omg she probably thinks I'm creepy and is gonna hate me!' The thoughts ran quick through my head as I awkwardly smiled and chuckled.

"Oh that! oh it was um..."

" Was what you said at the shop earlier true? Am I pretty?"

I was confused until I thought back to my she's so pretty rant...If I said it out loud then she heard which means she think I like her and I do and she's like me back now we-

" Your speaking out loud again reader"

oH...That's amazing thank youu!

" Oh..act like you've never heard that I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable! bUT-"

" I like you too reader...a lot actually

" You saying i'm bad? Ok girl thank you!" I say now giggling and twirling my hair, see I knew I gotta all the girls like I'm Nick Cannon with this!

Tsubaki goes on to tell me she didn't think she was as pretty as I made her to but, it broke my poor heart because she so gorgues!

" Tsubaki girl, I can't lie good, nor I can't say if someone is ugly or beautiful because I have my flaws but you! Your like so pretty it hurts! I look at you and your aura and the way you act entranced me, the way you care for your friends all the time you're so tender it makes me blush anytime you have a concern over me! If you don't feel beautiful then I don't know what I am!"

Tsubaki stares at e during my rant with wide eyes and when I was done a tear fell down as she hugged me tight..

" Thank you..Thank you so thinking that reader..."

I hold her and tell it it's all true, we walk to her dorm and she stops.

' So, are we a thing now? It's fine if-"

" So we married now?" we said at the same time, we both laughed at that.

" So..we girlfriends?

" Yea! I guess so!" I said all giggly now, Tsubaki smiled at me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as a bye.

" Bye Sweets see you in class"

" Bye bye Prety girl!" I said walking away with a wave.

Pretty girl, My pretty girl

A.N: (I finished! OMG THIS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER THOUGHT OF! Like y'all don't know how Patty and her was my soul eater crushes before anyyyy one! But let me know if you like this and I can write more for her because she so bad!

Neva lied Izuku really my last reason

My Zuzu!

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Let talk about how Izuku would be the perfect boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. Like forgot Bakugo tough but soft love and Kirishima gym rat love and look at how Zuku is like total boyfriend material!

-- Izuku who when he first discovers your pretty face quickly asks you about your quirk and backstory even how you got your hero suit designed! Writing everything you say with a quickness, but he doesn't even notice himself writing notes about your appearance like how your lip pucker when in thought, your eyes simmer when you talk about your favorite thing about your hero design, and how quickly your face animates itself to a new emotion every few sentences. After meeting him he makes a huge effort to get to know you besides your quirk and heroic morals he wants to know everything about you even things about your parents (he used those facts for when you start dating)

-- Izuku after months of being your friend fighting alongside you and you tending to some of his scars he starts to have more unfriendly thoughts about, and no not any freaky stuff more of he hates how you laugh at every flirty joke Denki makes or how he love that you fuss over him and his recklessness he just eats up every new hairstyle you get, every new shoe, new dress he just hasss to complement you making you smiles at him so hard he blushes under that gaze you give him. Too bad it took practically a whole pregnancy for him to confess!

-- Izuku would when makes dates makes sure he gets everything perfect from a small date to a cafe he gets you a tiny allmight keychain as a momentum, dates at the aquarium? a jellyfish plushie is in your arms by the end of shark's exhibit, a concert for the two of you favorite band? Oh, baby got a favor from Bakugo to get you their new album. He makes sure any cuddle dates are so cozy and warm so you can't leave his arms; with pillow forts and fresh popcorn and a cute Disney movie with his strong arms around you warming you up nicely. Izuku who covers you up in his bed is you fall asleep fist and gets one of his allmight plushie and places it in your arms

-- Izuku who is always touching you doesn't matter if it's your leg on his thigh or his hand holding your pinky, he just needs to touch you if you're going to be close to him but what about far away? He has a whole keychain of allmight that everyone knows is his and he attaches it onto your bag and boom now everyone even your teachers know your " Zuzu Baby"

-- Speaking of Zuzu baby, he loves pet names and since his name Izuku has about fifty names in it you choose ' Zuzu' which when you first called him it he face reddens a bit since you always gotta call him babe or baby he naturally registers his name to be Zuzu. He's a boy who doesn't care if his friends hear you call him this name because you call him it out of love and he can't ask for more, I mean your his baby what the need to go getting mad because you didn't call him Midoriya he doesn't even call you by your real name you baby, pretty boy/girl, beautiful, pretty, anything he could think of that remind him of your called it

-- Now even though he's soft he ain't no punk he just doesn't really get bothered by mean commets anymore (he was quirkless majority of his childhood this dude got more thick skin than Bakugo) he just laughs awkwardly and when alone he talks all his shit

" And Bakugo gonna call me useless!?"

" Nooo baby why you didn't say nothing?"

" He got kidnapped and nobody wanted to save him but Kiri! I would be pissed everyday too"

" Omg! Izu stop!"

-- Like Zuzu is messy also he was a quite kid y'all so when you thought he wasn't listening HE WAS, and since your if s/o then bookie he is talking so much shit and gossip with you to the point you look at him differently like where did my softy go? He just said he would whoop Todoroki's ass if he called him a mutt

" Baby really?"

" It'll take a while but I could!"

" Shoto? The fire and ice combo package?? You could whoop his ass?"

" If I was called a mutt! He'll have two scars"

Yea... he talks too much but, he gonna back it up especially if it was about you. He cares about your mental a lot so if you ever tell him you're feeling a bit down simply because a hoe talking shit, he got 508 Instagram accounts to troll them, and you'll never know

-- Izuku who is only a boy so sometimes that cute miniskirt gets the gears in his head turning, in his room right behind the hero journal he got a little book filled with drawings of you so detailed it almost creepy, a small page of you drawn in many lewd styles. Every make out session you feel hi hand twitch trying to stop himself from touching our hips or to fondle your chest when you cuddle

-- Izuku who when the time is right will show you, he isn't just Zuzu baby all the time his mind evreytime you change clothes wondering what will happen if he takes a peek at your naked form?

-- 'That'll never happen though, Izuku is too much of a sweetheart to be a perv right?' You think looking at him scribble in his book today you're in his room studying, you ask to see his book and he blushes shaking his head and hides the page from. After a few minutes he gets up to go to the bathroom now your chance!

Getting up from your spot you take a peek at the page and it just a drawing of you listening to music from earlier with cute love notes along the side, smiling you hide the page again not looking at the page behind it with you drawn with your tits out glistening in the sun.

We love Zuzu!

THE MIND OF A WEIRD BLACK GIRL

CHAPTER 1: "I'M JUST A GIRL!!!"

Platonic yandere!batfamily x Neglected weird black!reader

SYNOPSIS: You're not childish, are you?

3:00 am. I should be dead asleep right now, completely unconscious, but tonight I couldn't help myself. I mean, who passes up an update on their favorite Tumblr fanfic? This fic has got me stuck at my desk for days on end. I keep telling myself that this is the last one and that I'm done, but then out of the blue, an ask pops up from the floodgates, and I'm back on my grind; no Kevin Gates. The blue rays of my computer screen glow against my dark skin. I can feel my eyes getting red and heavy. Another swig of Monster will keep me alive. One sip, and I feel my body tingle. That definitely wasn't good. I can hear my mom's words ringing in my head: "I saw a story on Facebook about a girl who drank so many energy drinks her heart stopped." She really needs to get off Facebook, and I really need to invest in some water. *Ping* OOOH, Leon Kennedy smut? Don't mind if I do! I laugh evilly to myself, clicking the fic with the pretty pink dividers.

*BEEP BEEP* "AHHH!!" I fall out of my gaming chair, my face hitting the cold floor. I rub my eyes that were under my glasses. I turn my head to see the screen of my alarm clock. FUCK! I'm late! I grab my school uniform and race to the bathroom. That's weird. I'm the first one here. It doesn't matter; take what you can and do what you need. I take a quick shower, put on deodorant and perfume, and stare at all my imperfections. My eye bags are getting bigger; that’s what happens when I watch 24 episodes of One Piece nonstop. Taking off my bonnet, I pray my hair cooperates with me now. I flat iron it until my arms go numb. I smell something burning. You know what? Just thug it out. Great, I look respectable. Grabbing my jacket, I run down the stairs. We really need an escalator.

Running into the dining room, I see everyone at the dinner table, no one in a hurry or rush. "Young master, would you like to join us?" The British accent of the old butler made me calm down, only for a millisecond. "Sorry, Al, but I'm late!" I grab a waffle off the table. "What in hell's name are you talking about?" the little devil speaks up. "Damian," his name makes my skin crawl. Ever since he got here, he's been on my back like white on rice. "None of your business, pipesqueak!" I glare at him. Still, my father's icy blue eyes shine on me like an interrogation light. I straighten myself. "Sorry to burst your bubble, [Name], but it's Saturday." I try to hold in an involuntary groan. Every time Tim speaks, it’s like he’s trying to correct me on something. I get it, you're smart; get a life. "I knew that," I huff, the fastest lie in history. "Then why were you running like a chicken that lost its head, and why are you all dressed for school?" Jason says sarcastically, sipping his coffee. His mug has a middle finger on the bottom; it seemed like it was pointing at me. Asshole.

"Well, I was just... whatever." Grabbing a piece of French toast, I go to sit down, but Steph's hand reaches out to cover the seat. "Sorry, [Name], this is Cass's spot." Oh, what is this, middle school? I walk to the other side of the dining table, but both Tim and Damian cover the seat. "This is for Dick." Oh, this is middle school. My blood is beginning to boil. "Great, I guess all the seats are taken. Thanks, team." I snatch a plate of pancakes off the table, walking up to my room. "Thank Allah! I can't stand it when she sits with us. She won't stop rambling about Power Rangers. She's so childish." I hear laughs coming from downstairs. Well, isn’t that just great? So much for a family breakfast. I eat in my bed. I’d rather doom scroll through Tumblr than talk to those losers—those really cool, strong, popular losers. I stare up at the Batman merch in my room. They’re all in order from Batman all the way down to Duke, the last member of the family. I used to find it weird having merch, shirts, and posters of them. I mean, they’re my "family." It’s just odd, you know? But I idolize them; even Damian—fighting crime, saving lives—all that crap. They're cool, but who knew cool people could be so cruel and mean? But let's be real; the family tree should've ended at Duke. I have no powers, no cool ninja training. I'm not smart or athletic. I sweat at the idea of running a mile. I get good grades, but I’m not Tim Drake-smart. I’m not even a Cass-level fighter. Hell, I don’t fight, period. The bottom line is, I’m "normal," as normal as a high school girl who likes video games, comics, anime, and cartoons can be. Other kids wouldn’t call you "normal," but in my family, I’m a saint compared to them.

But that's enough of that. I'm going downstairs to put my food away. Everyone’s gone, just Alfred in the kitchen cleaning up. "Hey, Al, where's everyone?" I say, putting my dish in the sink, then picking up a sponge, ready to help the old man out. "Oh, family outing." Family outing? "To where?" "To see a play, I believe, or a show. Maybe I saw tickets?" A show? "Don't you think it's too early for that stuff?" I reply, my hands getting wet with soap foam. "It's a long play; they had to get there early." Oh really, huh? "Was there a ticket for me?" "I'm afraid not." Oh, just great. Dad can buy tickets for his clan of kids, but not for his singular daughter? Fucking fantastic. My hands stop scrubbing the plate. "Oh cool." I didn't want to sound disappointed, but let's be real—I was. They always do things without me, and whenever I'm invited to things, it's out of pity—like a little kid your mom forces you to play with because she met the other mom, and now you guys have to be friends and hang out by pure association, even if you don't want to. I can see it whenever they're around—going to the theater with Steph, Cass, and Babs to watch some superhero movie, I shout out facts like crazy: "You know Spider-Man isn't allowed to drink any alcohol!" during the Into the Spider-Verse movie premiere. I could feel them rolling their eyes at me. Fake fans. Next time, they didn't invite me at all. Maybe I talk too much, or I’m too childish. I tried to invite Tim to play a fighting game with me. "The MHA fighting game? What are you, twelve? You're so childish, [Name]." He's acting like MHA is a bad anime. I went to their library with Jason once and picked up Percy Jackson. "Look, Jay, they have the whole series!" I looked down and saw him holding The Giver. Oh well, these are completely different books. "Can you try not to read something so childish? Grow up, [Name]." Oh yeah, only middle schoolers read Percy Jackson—it's not like he's a staple of my childhood or that I grew up with vivid character designs of him, not at all. But it seems like a recurring theme: "You're childish, so, [Name]." "Grow up, [Name]." Maybe that's why I wasn’t invited. I'm immature and childish. Hell, even Damian’s more mature than me, and he's like 14. But I'm not childish; I'm just passionate and energetic, and I like things. I like a lot of things. Is it wrong to enjoy stuff to the fullest? I could never be nonchalant. If I can't show how I feel, then who am I?

"Young master?" "Sorry, Al, just deep in thought." I sighed. He patted my back gently. "You could spend time with me." "You don't mind?" "Not at all." At least there's someone who loves my passion. "You don't mind?" He shakes his head gently, so I spend Saturday with Alfred. It was mostly cleaning and listening to R&B. I never knew he liked Janet Jackson, but who doesn't like Janet Jackson? She's Janet Jackson! We were lip-syncing to Ginuwine: "So Anxious!" The house was clean; time to watch trashy TV—Dance Moms. It's our main show. "No! Why are they dancing like that? Horrible choreography!" I laugh. "You couldn't do better!"

"I have to run some errands; would you like to come?"

"Nah, I'll chill here, thanks, Al."

He pulled me into a strong hug despite his frame and then pulled me off the couch. "Get me something pretty, please!" I screamed out.

"Yes, young master!"

I giggled. If it doesn't burn my stomach in seconds, I don't want it. Flipping through the TV channels like crazy until I hit the news, I saw them all together without me in fancy clothes and coats, smiling at the camera. This was more than a play or a show; this was some kind of event, and they didn't think to bring me or tell me. They didn't think of doing anything to inform me, and the way they were smiling and talking, it was like they planned this all week, all month even. And no one even told me—they didn't invite me; they left me here.

"Dick, where's your little sister tonight?" said a reporter.

"Which one?!" Duke chimed in with a big smile.

"No, I mean [Name]," the reporter said, putting the microphone in his face.

"You know how she is. [Name] is just too childish sometimes."

Dick ran a hand through his hair, laughing. His blue eyes gleamed at the camera. Childish?

"Yeah, she can't go to events like this; she'd lose it," Steph barked out, making Tim chuckle.

"Yes, she's a handful; she wouldn't know how to act around these cameras."

Really, Dad, really? They're all laughing and making fun of me. The same words come up: "Childish," "Grow up," "Handful." I'm not that bad, am I? The final nail in the coffin: "She's so immature." From Damian? Immature? I'm not immature; I like comic books and collect figures and plushies and trading cards. I make cosplays and write fanfiction. That doesn't make me childish; I'm just passionate, that's all. I have passion. I care for the things I like, so what if they were made for little kids and boys to play on the playground? It doesn't mean I can't like it, doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, doesn't mean I can't handle a few cameras or a few mics.

Hot tears run down my face. "I-I I'm not childish! I can handle it! I can be a Wayne! I can grow up! I can!" Who am I trying to convince—me or the damn TV screen? I feel my body shaking. I rip the plug of the TV out of the wall, throwing it to the ground. I run upstairs to my room, seeing the Batman and Robin merch staring at me. "Childish? I'll show you childish!" I wipe the figures off my shelf; they hit the floor, smashing apart. The heads fell off and the wings of Red Robin's suit broke. I smashed the Lego Batmobile piece, scattering it everywhere. I ripped the posters off my wall. "Who's the handful now, huh, Bruce?" I stomped on the poster and snatched a Batman plushie off my nightstand. I took a mechanical pencil and stabbed it; the stuffing pooled out like blood. "I'm not a handful!" I threw it against the wall near Damian's action figures and Dick's.

"I'm not a handful!" I yelled as loud as I possibly could, my voice breaking. I flopped down onto the floor, my legs shaking. I could hardly breathe, staring at the mess all around me. I sniffled and wiped my face gently. I picked up the Batman plushie and pulled it close to my chest. "Sorry, Daddy."

@milkbean69

@mal-flores

@kultofkorii

@hebaoffside

@ichbswa

@simpingpandas

@sh0dor1

Omg... He fell!

Todo Aoi x Black Reader!

This my first story y'all so be nice! well critic but keep it cute!

' Omg...this nigga dumb as hell' I thought, seeing Yuji and Todo arm wrestlin but with..pinkies? Like I understand they both got loose screws in they head because of..I truly don't know but, they don't get it all up there! I was watching til my friend Liyah taps me and snickers " Girl you finna burn a hole in they head!" she giggled, and I just roll my eyes adjusting myself in my seat to look at her. " Hey na!, not too much I'm only watchin" I responded still somewhat looking at them but not Yuji; I mean he's cute and all buttt, I LOVE ME SOME TODO! I mean his muscles, and his smile that little smirk just gets me goin!, and lets not talk about his confidence! Usually, cocky guys just give off red flags but him, he's confident in himself! He don't need to prove himself to nobody because he knows he's the shit he like drake but not drake ( Fucking hate drake).

Me and Liyah continue talking about random shit like baddies and if Coi Leray a real rapper when Yuji and Todo waltzes, they big asses up to us.

" Hye ladies- I mean young pretties!" Yuji starts, to be honest he walked up like Chris Brown did that girl in the Fine China music video all smooth and stuff, me and Liyah side-eye him and we say our little " Hii!"s Yuji starts talking about how it's a new cafe opening up downtown and he and Todo wanted to invite us! I turned to Todo to speak to him but, he avoids my eyes! Like I'm Ms. Netta in the face and I'm like ' Don't make me cry rn why tf you are looking at me like my lace liftin!?' (But you don't have a- chile..) I looked and Todo, his tan a little darker around the cheeks and I ask what wrong.

" N-nothing! Just a little hot today! Afterall, I just whopped Yuji's ass in battle so i am a little sweaty" Yuji then cuts his eyes to Todo and gives him a stank face.

" Todo..I flipped you 12 time-"

" That don't matter brother" Todo cuts him off with a smirk.

Me and Liyah laughed at that and agreed, Yuji told us be ready by 5pm and we say our goodbyes and I headed to my dorm. I opened the door and let out the biggest giggle of my life! I'm going on a date with my man that's not my man, but ya know..we basically dating! I opened my closet to pick an outfit, not thotty but shows some skin, not too modest thought because it too hot to be a nun, and not too casual because we never gave basic; I just picked some blue and white dunks, light blue flare jeans, and a cute top and I touch up my hair and face ( Face card neva declined) and I called Liyah while doing my hair to see is she ready.

" Hey boo! You ready or almost ready?"

" Heyyyyy! About that.. I cant go"

... and I remember thinking.. I'm about to beat this bitch up.

" What you mean ' YoU CaN't Go' I mock, getting anxious and a bit pissed off.

" I'm Sorry! My job said for an extra $50 I can come in really quick for today! But don't worry Yuji told me Todo is still going an-"

" Wait YUJI NOT COMING!?" I almost yelled, I mean if the world wanna crash down on me it can! But GOD WHYYYY??

Liyah explained Yuji had a mission a bit far and he went but, Todo was going because it close to his gym. I just roll my eyes at the phone and just says ok and hangs ups, I finish up my hair and face and I grab my purse and keys when I open my door and Todo is mid pause of knocking on my door.

" Oh! Hi, why are yo-"

" Hello lovely reader!"

" Hi Todo, are you here to pic-"

" Ive come to pick up up for our outing this evening!" ...Well no shit I couldn't have guessed. I turned to lock my door and we are off to the cafe, as we're walking Todo seems quiet...for the first time he's not yelling or anythuing but he's calm almost nervous.

" Everything alright Todo?" I asked looking up at his stature.

" yes..eveything fine reader, just a bit off ease" Todo says stone faced or regular I don't know really but, I ask what wrong and he gets into how he feels like I don't like him like I like Yuji... this man must be dumber than a box of nails because I can't!

" That's not true Todo, I like you just as much as I like yu-"

" But its not what I want." He stops, I turn to look at him confused.

" I want you to LIKE me, not friend like, not family like but, LIKE me how I like Takada Chan, LIKE me how I like you"

I fucking knew it.

I get bitches and niggas, I'm that girl fr, I'm practically like Lori Harvey; Todo just confessed to me and all im doing is smiling like got $5 from my auntie randomly. I giggled though and Todo looks up at him and kind of frowns.

" I know you may not return my feelings but laughing i-"

" OMG SHUT UP BRO" I yelled and somewhat laughed, Todo confused just plainly stares at me.

" I've liked you since liem forever, when you told me how your favorite singer girl impacts you ti was soo cute! Like you really are kind, goofy, maybe a bit idoitic but it ok! Becasue it makes you well you!" I go on and on with my feelings and when im done odo is just crying

" Oh! Todo i dint mean to-"

" THATS THE KINDEST THING SOMEONE HAS EVER SAID TO ME!" Todo says well sobs, He hugs me tightly and goes on about his crush and I'm just patting his back awkwardly (I'll bite him tbh)

Todo lets go and wipes his face and smiles at me a bit, I return it and I grab his hand and I hold it tightly. The warmth of his hands cools down my cold hands, the world seems to slow just a bit, and everything seems more peaceful.

We interlock hands and Todo smiles, and we walk onwards happily...until Todo trips on a rock and busted his ass.

" OH- Omg..OMG! Are you ok!?"

Todo just lays there and says nothing...for a while, I look around and I just drag his body to a bench. He's big and hungry because aint no way your 17 and you weight 55,000 pounds you big and freaky man! I fan and him and clean him up with a spare napkin and he groans to consciences.

" You ok?"

" Yes...where is Takada Chan?"

...Don't tell me he thought I was Takada bro...he so dumb.

Omg y'all this was like a spontaneous thing! And it soooo long like I'm really Shakespeare fr if you think about it. But yea this my first lil story or whatever tell me if like it or if it needs some work because I lowkey wanna expand on my headcanons about this FINE ASS MAN! 😍😍

Brat...

Any character x Black/ Spoiled reader

(Reader grown up sucking on a sliver spoon yall! and this diver is by F2u or something simliar I didnt see a user but its not mine please tell nn me who it is bc i found it on smb fic)

Imagine you're a rich bitch with a rich ass man on you. I mean you grew up always having a hefty amount of cash, daddy and mommy jobs paid them thousand every year, so you've always had the nicest things! Look at Reader/ Last Name! new shoes, pretty hair with the cutest curls, and that bawdy always gave home fed.

Now going to school you wasn't mean just a little ditzy, your mommy and daddy didn't want you to know a single thing about the bad world besides, you're not going into to politics so who care right? WRONG!

You're a good girl, and good girls need to know about the bad guys and girls who can tamper with that golden heart of yours or that golden egg in your pretty purse.

But he wouldn't because why? Rich girl with no idea of the world and it's trouble? He wouldn't think to slip a hand on that plump ass and say it because people are looking at you nor would he hug you and put his face in your neck to shield you from his friends?

" BUT! - BUT BABY WHYYYY!??"

You whined loudly in your boyfriend's chest, his body blocking the front door and looking down your frame; strong muscles folded over his arm and his brow furrowed just a bit.

" Doll face, now you know you not tellin me everything hm?

I roll my eyes and stomp my feet looking away from his sharp gaze, ya see we trying to go to this party right, and big dude won't let us go without looking over whose there, where, when who and why all the five damn w's we learned in English class.

" I told you! Lisa, Tanya, and Simone are going and it's Toni;s party baby!"

" I know that doll but where Toni's house?"

Dammit, I failed to mention Tanya is Toni friend and not mines, so that girl house is forgin to my mind but I put up a front and just tell him a random address; to which he looks up her gosh dammit house! I mean he dont truat me or somwthing?

" Hm..You said 4561 Danbury Ave?

" Yes baby now can you move??"

" Your a bad liar, this is the address to a Kroger"

I thought it was Walmart; I just look up shocked and he just chuckles shaking his head. He put his hand on my cheek, and I lean into it subconsciously and he rubs my check. I looked into his eyes, and he just has a disappointment I looked down and he just sighs.

" All I want is for you to be safe baby...but I see you just wanna be a brat huh?"

His tone is now dark and cold, I look up at him but, his hand moves my head back down. I stutter out apologizes but he covers my mouth and shushes me.

" You know, you've never told me about Toni"

" She's Tanya's friend! And I thought I could get to know her."

" So where the address? Did she invite you?"

" Well, no but-"

" Then you don't know anything huh stupid girl? You think she's all nice and giggles huh? Because of a dumb conversation you had over shoes she's the worlds' brightest star?"

" No! But if I got to know her"

" Dammit girl! She could be a fucking axe murder and YOU would've been next because you want to ' make friends. "

He never yelled at me before, I jump at his tone and his grip tight a smidge, he lifts my face up and he has now a sad look on his face. I start to feel bad putting my hand on his cheek apologizing solemnly but, he shakes his head putting my head away from his face.

" Your too naive.... I think I've been too soft on you doll" He pauses.

"Upstairs...On the bed, take that tiny ass top off baby and get pick three toys baby. And make on the spread bar."

When he said the bar, my head shot up and I shook my head backing to the couch.

" No- no baby! I think we can talk it out ya'know? you don't have to use that righttt? It was a silly mistake and-"

" ENOUGH!"

He voices booms and I jump again and look up at him, his face furious and stature tense. He walks up to me and hold my chin up roughly and whispers.

" Your already in deep shit doll face, I suggest you get up there and look realll pretty for me yea? Because after this...ion think you'd wanna lie to my face again, right?"

I just nod and quickly jogged up the stairs in my heels, I take off the tiny ass top that I had and peeled off the thong, heels, and wiped my make except for the eyeliner off. I grabbed the bar, a bullet vib, and his favorite and I lay on the bed face down ass up when the door open, OMG IM GOING TO DIEEE!

" Turn around reader."

"Yes sir..."

I turn around and sat on his lap hoe he likes and he holds my face gently.

" I'm sorry for yelling baby, but you know how I feel about lying and lied about a bad thing baby."

" I know! But! I never get to go somewhere without, and I wanted to see the girls and stuff, so when I didn't have the address I panicked, I'm sorry sir."

He twirls a curl from my head and kisses my cheek, he tells me it's alright but I'm still getting. my punishment.

" I'm going to let you pick which toy first baby but first, spread'em"

*Cue the big and freaky scene*

After 55 rounds and tears later, he runs me a bath and carries me to the tub gently laying me down. Tired and sleepy I let him clean my body and put on fresh clothes on me. He lays me besides him and as I fall into slumber I whisper 'goodnight.'

" Goodnight...Brat"

A.N: (I FINISHED AND PHEW IM DONE! yall this my could've been for alot of my mans but, yall this one is like for my girls who think Gojo and damn Armin aint no strong, dom, daddy baby that big NANAMI AND ERWIN! no hate tho I love Gojo and Armin but...he just dont give big daddy he gives like frat or sum. But, tell me if yall like it!!)