superbatluvr
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Leandra wants Hawke to date. She should've been more specific with her request.
Bookmarked by superbatluvr
20 Dec 2025
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“Sit still, will you?” Robert chides, oil dripping from the metal tongs as he clicks them conversationally. “They’re almost done.”
Robert Robertson braces a casual hand on his hip as he flips the last sizzling disk of pepperoni cooking over Chad’s tits.
Chad, Flambae, reformed supervillain and currently being used as a cast iron skillet, bites back a strangled noise as the metal scrapes against sensitive skin; hot grease making it a smooth glide as his pecs glisten like they’ve been polished.
“This… is so fucking weird.” He breathes, the back of his head thumping against the countertop. “You’re a goddamn pervert, Bob Bob.”
“You can say that again.” Robert agrees easily, staring down at the man pliant beneath him with mock confusion. “But, remind me, who’s the pervert who agreed to do it with me on a Saturday afternoon?”
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Robert cooks and eats sausage off of Flambae boobs and I am definitely going to dog hell.
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Bookmarked by superbatluvr
17 Dec 2025
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Disclaimer for parts:
I tried to keep it brief, I only used the word clit.Just a lil fic that smacked me in the face while driving (as they usually do for some reason).
Inspiration came from the song No Return, by Velvet Desires.This is definitely not written as good as the song is, and I'll probably edit this a few times until I'm happy, but damn did it fit them in my head.
Bookmarked by superbatluvr
16 Dec 2025
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“So when I said I’m afraid I’ll fail you…”
His voice softened to something he didn’t recognize.
“…I mean, I’ve already failed you once. And I don’t get many second chances.”
Bookmarked by superbatluvr
12 Dec 2025
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The air to Robert’s left grows warm, then hot—a concentrated sunlight that finally forces him to glance up.
Flambae’s hovering over the catwalk now, still nothing but a silhouette of fire. No trace of flesh. No trace of bones. Even his eyes are consumed by flames, leading Robert to wonder about the reliability of the man’s vision. He is a floating fiery ghoul, by all accounts.
One who may or may not be able to see.
Even so, the sight is formidable. He’d be impressed—seeing the effect up close like this is different than seeing it through the Mecha Man suit—but the image of the man slipping on a puddle and breaking his tooth on the bar makes it difficult to be anything but vaguely amused.
“If you’re gonna throw me off, could you at least do it in your other form?” Robert asks listlessly. “I’d like to die without third-degree burns, if at all possible.”
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or; dispatch, but flambae is a romance option
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Bookmarked by superbatluvr
08 Dec 2025