#i just have. something itching in my brain that i need to cry out but only to the right audience

[tony-andonuts]

Hiiii i so badly wanna lightly vent about something embarrassing and dark but------

[sutorus]

Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘

JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD

FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs

A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO

GOJO SATORU

warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety

you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous. 

one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief. 

so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body. 

any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms. 

but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time. 

his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it. 

you furrow your brows. 

“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for. 

“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”

you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck. 

“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.

satoru notices, but not in the right way. 

“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word. 

satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder. 

gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers. 

he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes. 

“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”

you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”

you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes. 

“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”

he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile. 

“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.

satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly. 

“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“

“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”

at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch. 

“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”

“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”

“yeah? you’re not upset?”

“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”

you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.

you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul. 

GETO SUGURU

warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive

you don’t know how long it’s been. 

maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety. 

you don’t know how many times you came. 

your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal. 

suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt. 

he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same. 

the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again. 

“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“

“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”

you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum. 

your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm. 

except this time, the break doesn’t come. 

“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy. 

he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again. 

“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“

“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation. 

usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations. 

“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”

you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none. 

“please please fuck please no more—“

it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place. 

oh right. the safe word. 

you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress. 

it all happens so fast, after that.

suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation. 

“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”

“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically. 

“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”

you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words. 

hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach. 

“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”

you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure. 

“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.” 

suguru turns his head to look up at you. 

“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”

“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”

“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown. 

you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking. 

you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.

“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.

“hmm?”

“can you promise me something?”

he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”

“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”

it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)

“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”

you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man. 

he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features. 

if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you. 

until you met toji, that is. 

he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar. 

as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too. 

tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty. 

“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket. 

“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”

you smile sweetly, linking arms with him. 

soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back. 

you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one. 

he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock. 

“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”

you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time. 

you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it. 

“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”

toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down. 

he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.

the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t. 

and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears. 

toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife. 

suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths. 

he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”

you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs. 

“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.

you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying. 

he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand. 

“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you. 

you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down. 

“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”

he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs. 

toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up. 

“wait here,” he orders. 

you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger. 

toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it. 

“you okay?” he asks. 

you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod. 

“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”

“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”

he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree. 

there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again. 

“i’m sorry, honey. really.”

and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it. 

“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“

“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”

that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on. 

“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”

“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him. 

when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“when?” is all he asks. 

impossibly, your smile grows even wider. 

“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up. 

you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. 

he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror. 

“are ya really going to do this to me now?”

you grin. 

“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”

a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!

[marshmallowdarling]

Retired Knight! Simon is the last person to come around to the thought of you (surprise surprise). Because like these are his boys, who are you to come in and try and steal them away? 

Very much jealous and possessive and the other men eat that shit up! Wrapping his arm around his captains waist when you come into the room, throwing an arm around Johnny’s shoulder while he makes you all breakfast (because everyone needs to eat including you and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you he doesn’t hate you), pressing himself into Kyle’s back while Kyle washes the dishes. Just little things that silently say ‘he’s mine’. 

But again, he doesn’t hate you as much as he loathes the king throwing you into their home and in a way he pity’s you. Having to be a ‘spouse’ for their general who already has three boys at his side, a loveless marriage and having to be the ‘other person’. 

He watches you, at first he didn’t mean to. Habits from the army were hard to break and patrolling their home was a way to soothe his nerves and drain his energy so he wasn’t itching to do something, and he sees you trying to tend to the few animals John got as a present. Key word is ‘trying’ because bless your heart you have never really taken care of barn animals, seen then yes and touched one once or twice but actually tended to one? You thought you had an idea on how to take care of them but that gets thrown out of the window when you try but you don’t want to ask the boys because how hard is it? And you really want to prove you can be useful… 

So, he watches and watches. Watches as you try to haul some hay over to the horse and almost throw out your back. He watches as you try to carry a bucket that seems manageable, but you can barely even lift it an inch from the ground, waddling with it swinging everywhere and needing to set it on the ground for a few seconds after a few feet before trying again and then stopping and then trying again and then stopping and then trying-

And he watched with a raised brow from under his mask when he sees you happily feed the cows some melon, patting their short fur… until another cow’s big wet tongue laves over your hands, and another cows large tongue curls around your shirt- and by the end you’re a wet, sticky mess. 

After watching you for a while he decides he should try to help, not because he likes you but because everyone needs to start somewhere right? And watching you every day failing was painful but you did surprise him when each time you would get back up and dust yourself off…. Even when sometimes you had a little cry or swear before you got up, but you still got up and every time a hint of respect flashed in him. 

He gets to the small barn before you do, knowing your routine from watching you almost every day for a month. When you get there and are rightfully confused he doesn’t say anything for a bit before picking up one of the two buckets on the floor next to your feet, the one with most amount of stuff, before wordlessly showing you how to hold it properly and feed the cows. He doesn’t even ask you to do anything, just letting you stay near the second bucket and after a few minutes when you do get the hint he just gives you a little nod. 

Each day after starts like that, until Kyle realises what’s happening and comes around with a nice cuppa for the both of you while you work in the early mornings. 

But Simon still doesn’t like you, he just tolerates your presents. It’s what he says anyways when Kyle teases him about it while under him, but Simon just grunts and buries his feeling while putting the brat under him in his place. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HOW DO WE LIKE?!?! I'm sorry for dropping but my family is going THROUGH it right now but here's a little peaky peak into my brain lmao

Tag List (omg mom look I made it); @sheep-from-rad , @aldis-nuts , @reap3erslov3 , @pasanau4

[dancingbirdie]

Hello there! I adore your fics and how you wrote Astarion! I was hoping you could write something around the succubus scene? I know you get comforted by Astarion later on in the game regarding it, but due to his own trauma and backstory I would have liked to see him stand up for Tav and protect them during that scene itself, instead of just standing by while Tav is being manipulated 🙈

If you could do something around that, it would heal me! 😂🙏

Hi, anon! I hope you enjoy. I really liked your prompt, but I'll admit it did get a bit darker than I had originally thought I'd write it.

Please take note of the content warnings before you read! As always, comments and reacts are appreciated.

No Self-Sacrifices

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader/Tav

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: Discussion/description of dissociation, implied sexual assault, mentions of Astarion's past, descriptions of violence, blood, mild gore, death, angst.

*****

“Why don’t we play a game?” the Raphael-look-alike called to you seductively from the ridiculously lavish bed. “You win, I give you everything you desire. But you’ll enjoy yourself more if you lose.”

Astarion began to sense that all too familiar, uneasy feeling coiling itself tight inside his chest. The premonition that something was about to go utterly, horribly wrong. He risked a glance toward your allies, Lae’zel and Halsin, but they appeared just as woefully confused as you did. As if you all weren’t aware of the trap you’d just walked into. 

“What’s the game?” he heard you ask. He could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

“It’s a surprise! Off with your clothes,” the devil commanded.

There could be no doubt as to what would take place. Surely, Astarion thought, none of his companions could be so blind as to not see what was about to happen. 

Astarion watched as you bit your lip, hesitating. How you looked wildly about the room, as if you were searching for any last-minute way to avoid this. With his preternatural senses, he couldn’t help but be aware of how your heart rate spiked to a frenzied pulsing as you stood there, terrified of what was to come. 

He watched in horror as your shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Defeated. Resolving to go through with this. And as you began removing your clothes, his vision turned nearly as red as the fiend on the mattress before you. 

“Good, little thief, good,” the monster crooned, totally unaware of Astarion’s brewing rage. “Keep going like this, and you’ll get to live. You’ll be crying out my name soon, you’d better know it. I am Haarlep, Raphael’s personal incubus…” 

The incubus - Haarlep - prattled on while Astarion continued to seethe with barely-contained fury. His fingers twitched, itching – almost of their own accord – to reach for the crossbow strapped to his back. He began shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, restless. He caught the glare Lae’zel was leveling at him from his periphery and turned his head slightly to meet it. 

She gave a slight, but obvious, shake of the head. A silent command to stand down. Then he felt the tadpole squirm in his brain, while a voice that was distinctly Lae’zel’s echoed in his mind. 

Don’t act rashly, vampire. We need to gather more information before we strike.

Astarion nearly laughed aloud. The audacity of this Githyanki, willing to let her comrade be violated in such a way. After all they had done for her. For this party. And yet, part of him knew he shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, he had known plenty of “heroes” who had let equally horrible fates befall others without so much as lifting a finger to help them. 

“It matters not to me.” Your deadened reply to Haarlep brought Astarion back to the present moment. He recognized that tone of voice. Knew when someone was trying to dissociate. To disconnect their mind from their body. He knew all too well what that feeling was like. And it was nearly as horrible to watch as it was to experience it for himself.

“Very well, I will be Raphael himself,” Haarlep continued. “All of him. Now, on the bed. Lie back.” 

Astarion made his decision when he saw you begin to take stilted steps toward the bed. Covering yourself with your hands, trying to maintain some modicum of modesty as you climbed up. 

With Haarlep’s attention solely on you, he reached behind him for the crossbow. His index finger felt for the trigger as he pulled it around before him. One swift flick, and an arrow was suddenly lodged in the incubus’ left pectoral.

Chaos erupted as imps suddenly appeared throughout the room, responding to Haarlep’s distressed cry. You toppled off the bed, head knocking onto the floor, as the fiend raged above you, trying to right themselves and extract the arrow from their chest. 

“Tsk’va,” Lae’zel cursed in Gith, hefting her sword over her shoulder and barreling toward the first enemy in sight. “To battle it is, then!” 

Halsin shifted quickly into his bear shape and let loose a formidable roar, charging for another group of imps across the room. 

But Astarion only had eyes for Haarlep. He stalked slowly toward the bed, unsheathing the twin blades from his back as he did so. 

You watched as he gave one brief, wicked smile before utter carnage ensued.

*****

“Kainyak! Your foolishness nearly cost us all our lives,” Lae’zel spat venomously toward Astarion while she wiped her blade free of the fetid black imp blood. “I should strike you down now for acting with such stupidity.”

To his credit, Astarion barely seemed to acknowledge the Githyanki’s formidable censuring. You watched as he slipped his daggers back into the sheaths at the small of his back and readjusted his armor. He picked up his crossbow and shook it free of blood before strapping it back between his shoulder blades.

“You still have all your limbs intact, Lae’zel,” he replied airly. It was a stark contrast to the way he was standing, body as taut as a bowstring. “And wasn’t that bloodshed so much more satisfying than watching the incubus violate our dear party leader?” 

Lae’zel’s mouth snapped shut, but she continued to glare. The vampire had a point, though she was loath to admit it. 

“I, for one, prefer this outcome to the alternative that was before us,” Halsin agreed, rising from where he had been crouched after dismissing his ursine form. He glanced your way but averted his eyes quickly, to your confusion. 

“Best get dressed, darling,” Astarion drawled, coming over to where you still lay prone on the floor. “As delicious as I find your birthday suit to be, I’d wager you’ll fare better in this wretched place with a little more clothing on.” 

He held out a hand to help you rise to your feet. You observed him cautiously, trying to discern the emotion behind his carefully schooled expression. 

“Why?” you whispered. 

He squinted at you, one brow quirked. “Are you seriously asking me why armor is prudent to have on, in a place like this?” He chuckled before adding, “gods, you must’ve smacked your head harder than I thought.”

“No,” you retorted, refusing to be deterred by his cheeky banter. “I mean, why did you attack Haarlep? You’re never one to be spoiling for a fight.”

Astarion scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest as if insulted. “Careful, darling. You’re almost making me out to be a pacifist.”

“You know what I meant, Astarion,” you grumbled as you began donning your leather breeches and jerkin. 

“And would you have preferred to be fucked by that incubus instead?” Astarion bit out derisively. 

Your head whipped up to meet his gaze, hearing the sudden change in his tone. 

“Of course not,” you scowled. “But you could sense how powerful they were. It seemed like the only way to ensure your all’s safety.”

Astarion grimaced. “So you would have just laid down and taken it? For us?”

“I’m not saying I would have enjoyed it,” you hissed. “But to keep you safe? Keep them safe?” you gestured to Lae’zel and Halsin across the room, polishing and re-polishing their weapons as they attempted not to overhear your barely-whispered argument. 

“Of course,” you concluded, voice resolute. 

“Don’t be a fucking martyr. Not for me. Not for them. Not for anyone,” Astarion growled. 

Your brows shot toward your hairline in surprise. 

“We know what we signed up for when we joined this rag-tag group,” he continued, tone icy. “I’d rather fight a hundred fiends than watch you debase yourself to save anyone, including myself.” 

You let loose a mirthless laugh, feeling angry, embarrassed and too completely exposed. Before you could think better of it, your retort was flying past your lips. 

“You know, Astarion, you have a fucking funny way of showing appreciation for your partner who was willing to be violated in order to keep you safe.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. You immediately knew it, and so did the rest of the party. Suddenly it was like the air had been sucked from the room. 

Crimson eyes bored into your own as Astarion took a step forward to meet you, chest to chest. You glared up at him, refusing to back down. Refusing to be chastised for your willingness to protect him. 

The shared air between you was charged. You could almost feel the electricity surging. 

“Need I remind you? I’ve been violated enough times over the past 200 years to know how unequivocally monstrous it is,” he intoned, his voice pitched dangerously low. “I will promise you this. I am finished with having it happen to me, in front of me, or for me.”

Words escaped you. It was all you could do to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the conviction in his tone. The anger that had sustained you up until this point had all but disappeared. In its place was something far more demure. 

“So yes, I fired the first shot that pierced that devil’s skin. Then I eviscerated their neck with my teeth,” he crooned, reverently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You shivered at his touch, at his dulcet tone that was describing such violence. 

“And I slit his throat with glee,” he continued, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I would do it again. And again. And again. Because I will never witness abuse like what was about to happen, ever again.”

He swept the pad of his thumb over the hollow under your eye, his gaze flicking rapidly over your face. As though he were subconsciously checking you over for any nicks, cuts, or bruises. 

“Do you understand?” he whispered softly. His voice was still laced with rage, but you could tell it was not directed toward you. Really, it never had been. 

The entire situation had obviously touched the most sensitive pressure point within him. Had triggered his urge to fight, to protect, to resist. You couldn’t be angry with him for that. Never. Not one bit. 

You gulped before nodding slightly. “I understand now. I’m sorry.”

You lifted your hand to cover his where it was still cupping your face. Turning slightly, you planted a kiss against his palm. 

“No self-sacrificing on my watch, darling, agreed?” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your waist in a solid embrace. 

“Agreed,” you confirmed, returning his embrace before venturing on through the House of Hope.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Comfort - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: I’m fighting off the evil brain thoughts so I hope this is good 🫣 I hope it’s okay I mentioned the dysphoria so vaguely. I didn’t wanna make it uncomfortable to read

Written for this request

CW: Reader is dysphoric; dysphoria is described as grossness; mentioned crying; Logan calls Reader handsome; probably ooc Logan; ‘I love you’s; fluff; hurt/comfort; no use of Y/N

660 words

You’ve been lying in Logan’s bed for over an hour before he comes back from training. You hide your face in his pillows, hoping he can’t tell you’ve been crying.

“Hey.” He sits on the edge of his bed, resting a hand on your blanket cocoon. You don’t answer him, just press your face deeper into the pillows.

“Hey.” He nudges you. You turn your head to the side, gazing up at him. Your eyes itch and your head hurts from your crying, but you still look up at him.

Your voice is cracked and scratchy when you speak. “What?”

Logan’s tone softens a little. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head and hide your face again. Unburying yourself from the blankets feels like too much. But you feel so gross, made worse by the heat of both his blankets and the thick sweater you’re wearing.

“Just having a sucky day,” you mumble.

He sighs and moves to lie next to you. After a long, long moment of struggle and indecision, you lift up the blankets and press yourself against his side.

When that only heightens the discomfort, you lay on top of him, pressing yourself as close as possible. You can hear his heartbeat and it soothes the grossness of your mind a little.

Logan gently rubs your back. You tense up for a moment, until you realize he’s avoiding touching your lower back or sides. You hide your face against his chest.

“How bad is it?” Logan’s voice rumbles through you. It gives you something to focus on other than the growing sense of quiet panic in the back of your mind.

“Bad,” you whisper. “Worse than last time. It keeps coming back.”

Logan’s hand stills on your back. “That bad, huh?”

“I feel gross.” Your voice cracks a little.

Logan’s quiet for a moment. You don’t blame him. You’re not even sure what would help right now.

“Well, you look handsome to me,” he says finally.

You turn your head to look at him. “Really?”

“Really. Handsomest man I’ve ever seen.”

The quiet panic in your mind slowly starts receding. You take a deep breath. “Keep talking? It helps.”

Logan starts rubbing your back again. “Slim asked about you today. Thought he was gonna start a fight with me. Just like he used to.”

You nod. It’s hard to relax, but his voice is like gruff magic. You can feel every rumble as he speaks.

“Turns out he got over that once he realized I wasn’t interested in Jean like that.”

A tiny smile flickers across your face.

“Still can’t figure out why he’d think I’d still go for Jean when you were right there.”

Your face warms a little. “You were pretty smitten with her before you met me.”

“Yeah.” Logan presses a kiss to your head. “Before I met you. You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever met, and I’ve been alive for a lot longer than anyone here. Not to mention, you’ve got the best damn personality I’ve ever seen in anybody.”

The compliments really make your face burn. You shift against him, moving your head to nuzzle into his neck. Just quietly breathing him in. “I’m your man.”

“You’re my man.” He sounds so sure of it. So absolutely unwavering.

He keeps talking, telling stories about the kids or giving you quiet assurances that you’re his. That you’re his man. That you’re handsome no matter what.

You feel yourself relax against him. There’s still grossness in the back of your mind, in certain areas of your body. But it feels manageable now.

Logan has that effect on you. You know this moment is special. He doesn’t usually give out compliments like this. But it makes you feel warm. He’s soft when you need him to be.

And you’re safe, you’re feeling better, and you’re with him.

You press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too, handsome.”

[alottanothing]

This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.

Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)

And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)

The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.

It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.

When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.

In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.

Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.

There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.

“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”

Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.

“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.

The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.

“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.

With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.

And that act of kindness was your mistake.

His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.

When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.

You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.

When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.

Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.

Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.

A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.

You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.

With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.

Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.

“You need a ride, miss?”

Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.

“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”

Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.

“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.

Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.

“Did he hurt ya?”

You shake your head, “no.”

The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.

“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”

“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.” 

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.

“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”

Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”

He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.

With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.

Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.

Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.

Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.

A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.

Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”

Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.

His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.

While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.

“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”

As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.

His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.

“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”

Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.

“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.

“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”

The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.

No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.

“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.

Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.

“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”

The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.

“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.” 

If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.

To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.

“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”

“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.

With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.

You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.

No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.

“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.” 

The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw. 

“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.” 

He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.

The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine. 

When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive. 

There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.

“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.

“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.

“For what I done.”

You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”

He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.

“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.

His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down,  you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.

“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.

The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.

“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.

“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”

His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.

Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.

Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.

“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.

“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.

You nod, “In shining armor.”

He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. 

He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.

“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.

“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”

His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.

For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.

You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.

In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.

The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.

Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.

For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.

His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.

Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were. 

“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you. 

You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”

“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his. 

Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him. 

“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”

You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.

“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”

Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.

“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze. 

Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire. 

“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches. 

As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.

You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.

He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.

“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”

Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.

Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.

“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.

Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.

Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.

“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”

You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.

He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.

“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.

A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth... 

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.

Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.

Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.

Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.

“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.

When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.

“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”

[gffa]

Okay, so it was a month since my last BATFAMILY fic recs set, but in my defense a) huge life changes and b) I did a quick count up of how many recs I had built up and it was literally well over a million words. A million words! In one recs set! And this is like the seventh one of these that I've done! And I still have at least a thousand fics on my reader that I haven't started! Because this fandom has seriously not just consumed my brain, but given me absolutely amazing stuff to read that scratches all the itches I desperately have--well, okay, scratches the itch I have for my Dick Grayson Problem, but same thing.

I've really needed some escapism lately and being able to laugh or cry or just sink into a nice, long novella or even novel-length fic has really been a godsend has done a lot to soothe me and help me process feelings that sometimes otherwise can feel too overwhelming to deal with. All while also giving me the exploration of issues or decompression time with the characters' issues that the canon itself doesn't have the space for. So, I hope this list can give others something to read in the way it has given me so much that I've loved and brought me joy or emotional catharsis, because fandom has been really incredible about Bringing The Good Stuff and I want to repay the favor!

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ The Halfway Point by Sugarcookie222, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 5k     After a miscommunication with Bruce, a 13-year-old Dick runs away. He makes it as far as a diner in a nearby state. Bruce had left to finalize the adoption papers but clearly needs to work on his communication skills. He calls Superman in a panic to help him find Dick.

✦ be safe, they said (be good) by deargalileo, bruce & dick & alfred, 4k     there's a tree in the wayne's backyard. a very specific tree, one that seems to attract daring children like bees to honey. unfortunately for the children, it is not a tree that is suited for climbing. fortunately for the children, they have fathers who are there to stitch them up.

✦ a haunted ballroom by lothIoriens, bruce & dick & alfred, 11.9k wip     When Dick stumbles across the ghosts of Wayne Manor dancing the night away in an abandoned wing of the house, he thinks that, finally, something might be normal again. But the ghosts are nervous, and he doesn't know why. Something is brewing underneath the surface of Wayne Manor, and it's up to Dick to find out what it is—and it's up to Bruce to make sure nothing happens to his charge in the meantime.

✦ Straight On Til Morning by audreycritter, bruce & dick, 1.2k     Bruce wakes Dick up on a school night to show him the sky. It dredges up memories for Dick, and it would be a disaster, except it’s Bruce. And Bruce understands.

✦ (More) Pressing Matters by Syl, bruce & dick, 39.2k     Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, a cold empty place, shortly after his parents' murder: A re-telling of the Boy Wonder's well-known origin story.

✦ First Action Hero by Goldmonger, bruce & dick & clark & cast, 3.5k     “Jerkwads,” Dick said darkly, taking Clark’s hand. He looked up at him then, dressed smartly in a black suit and tie, and wearing converses with Sonic the Hedgehog on them. “You okay, Uncle Clark?”

✦ Lil Birdy Wants to Fly by lil_taair, bruce & dick, 3.8k     Bruce would have usually appreciated the cheeky smile that was directed at him if his son wasn’t 25 fucking feet off the ground

✦ World's Finest: Fortress of Friendship by WingFeathers, bruce & dick & clark & diana, 6.9k     Finally, Dick talks Bruce into letting him see the Fortress of Solitude – provided that Dick stay safe and out of the way while the Trinity discusses some Secret Important Business about a certain young Amazon. Clark promises that the Fortress will be safe, but is that a promise he can make?

✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), bruce & dick & jim, 8.6k     Dick is excited to visit an American mall for the first time, and Bruce struggles to understand the difference between 'guardian' and 'dad'.

✦ Comfort Food by motleyfam, bruce & dick, ~1k     Dick struggles to find his appetite in the aftermath of his parents’ deaths.

✦ The meaning of justice by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & babs & cast, 4.6k     As Bruce drives toward Gotham Academy, he tries to imagine all the possible reasons for the principal to call him. He has a lot of imagination. Especially when it comes to bad things happening to Dick. Still, his ward being a suspect for attempted murder hadn’t been on his list.

✦ The Question Game by Santana2, dick & bruce, 1.3k     Basketball can be a very enlightening game if you play it right. Little expansion on Robin's part in Downtime

✦ Cat's Eat Birds by Nightwing_DC_2112, dick & bruce & selina & cast, 12k     After a run in with the Scarecrow Robin is separated from Batman fighting off the effects of Crane's Fear Toxin when an unlikely ally steps in to prevent him getting into further trouble.

✦ World's Finest Mini Issue: Happy Birthday by WingFeathers, bruce & dick (& minor clark/bruce & alfred), 1.8k     Bruce hoped for an emergency to get him out of his birthday party. He just didn’t want Dick to be the one in need of help. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Truth Serum is the Worst by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce, 3.1k     Batman gets dosed with a truth serum and unexpectedly spends most of the time talking about how desperately he loves his children, how awesome they are, and how he wishes he was better at being a father.

✦ Holy Time Travel Fuckery, Batmen by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl, dick & bruce, 4.4k     Batman is dead, and Dick has reluctantly taken up the mantle. So then why are there four Batmen, all clearly Bruce, standing in front of him on this rooftop?

✦ The Waking World by Fairy527, dick & bruce, 2.2k     This isn’t the first time Dick has gone to Bruce after a nightmare. However, this is the first time his nightmare has involved Bruce's murder at his own hands, and it doesn't settle well.

✦ More Alike Than You'll Ever Admit coffeeandchocolate, dick & bruce, 1.2k     Dick Grayson has always been there alongside Batman. So if no one else is going to acknowledge that his first year wearing the cowl was harder, well, he's just going to have to do it himself. After Bruce returns from being lost in time, he and his eldest argue.

✦ Almost, Nearly by CKBookish, dick & bruce & jason & cast, 8.1k     Dick was just supposed to go with him to lunch. He wasn't supposed to get shot. He wasn't supposed to be bleeding out in the pouring rain on the steps of Wayne Enterprises. But then Bruce hadn't expected that sniper and he had seen it far to late. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cass, 14.5k wip     Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ Soup's On by HoodEx, dick & donna, 2k     Taking care of Dick never feels like a burden, it feels like an instinct. And Donna's really good at following her instincts.

✦ to dream away a sleepless night by waffle-wonder (cosmic_croissant), dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & duke, 2.7k     Dick was fine. He was fine. Sure, he was having a little trouble focusing on unlocking his apartment door, but that didn’t mean anything. Or- Dick is exhausted. His family catches him when he falls.

✦ Temporary by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 14.8k     The double homicide at Haly’s Circus is not Bruce’s first case involving a child, and while there's no overt indication that Bruce should react differently to this case, he supposes that his previous cases did not involve the witness known as Dick Grayson. On the surface, the Grayson case seems like any other gang case, but the more time Bruce spends with the boy, the more he begins to doubt his own instincts.

✦ To the Moving and the Strange by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & alfred & tim & cast, 6k     Thankfully, Alfred tips his head in acknowledgement. “I do,” he agrees. “I remember a great many things. But I have forgotten things too, and I expect as time goes on, more of them will slip away from me, and it’s entirely possible that I won’t even notice they’re gone. My memories of them will simply be… less.” Dick looks at him, studying the lines of his weathered face. “Does that ever make you feel like... like if you loved them more, you’d remember them?”

✦ better luck nest time by ScarlettSwordMoon, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 47k wip     Feeling as if Dick’s family does not appreciate him enough, an alternate Earth version of Babs turns Dick into a bird. Now each member of the Batfamily must confess something to him if they ever want to see Dick as a human again. AKA The tale of a family and their birb.

✦ deep roots (are not reached by the frost) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, de-aged!dick, 85.2k wip     Dick gets reverted to a younger self after being kidnapped on during a case. But this is far from a routine de-aging.

✦ Bludhaven Police Department by Lady_of_Lorule, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & amy & donna & wally & cast, 31.1k     Sgt. Amy Rohrbach learns that her partner, rookie cop Dick Grayson, is not what he seems. Or how Amy finds out that Dick Grayson is the heir to the entire Wayne fortune, the vigilante Nightwing, the leader of the Titans, and meets some of the Batfam and the Titans along the way. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Too Many Walls and Not Enough Bridges by CamsthiSky, dick & damian, 3.7k     There's something bothering Damian. Dick's determined to help Damian feel comfortable enough to share it.

✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & damian & bruce & cast, 20.1k     After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Do-over by mx_chrx99, dick & jason & todd & damian & steph, 6.2k     Jason never really got to do the "family vacation" thing. Neither did Tim, Steph, or Damian. Dick did, but that was ages ago. Now's their chance to make up for lost time.

✦ pick up off the floor by deargalileo, dick & jason & bruce, 3k     there was a lump on Bruce's office floor. a Dickwing shaped lump.

✦ the trials and tribulations of fatherhood by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 2k     Dick, Jason and Tim compete to see who was the worst child. The answer surprises them all. On an unrelated note, Bruce is wondering if adoptions are a lifetime deal, or if they can be undone.

✦ A Time To Reflect by Experimental_Muse, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & duke & alfred, time travel, 14.5k     Bruce finds himself stuck in the past, and while waiting for the league to pick him up, struggles to get along with his past self. Plus being in a practically empty manor is a bigger adjustment than he'd like to admit. BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST THINK BRUCE AND DIANA SHOULD KISS IT OUT: ✦ One equal temper of heroic hearts by victoria_p (musesfool), bruce/diana, nsfw, 1.5k     Bruce and Diana reconcile at Nanda Parbat.

✦ Thanksgiving at the Kents by starknjarvis, bruce/diana & cast, 8.9k     Clark convinces Diana to come to the farm for Thanksgiving, and Diana finally gets the chance to meet Bruce's kids. There are far more of them than she had expected.

✦ Escape Artistry by David Hines (hradzka), bruce/diana & cast, 24.2k     Wonder Woman is eager to learn new things. Batman, less so. Primarily JL animated continuity; some comic elements from as far back as the Golden Age. Complete. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Will you die for (marry) me? by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & cassie & bart & cast, 7.8k     Tim sacrifices himself on a mission and lives. Conner hates that. They struggle through the aftermath.

✦ A Saturday Evening by malcyon, tim/kon & clark/lois & jonathan kent/martha kent & kara, 13.8k     Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

✦ Sending all my love to you by Paintedqueen, tim/kon, 10.9k wip     Conner and Tim get blasted into New Earth where they meet an old friend.

✦ Composed of Us by starlikeknight, tim/kon & bruce & dick & cast, 37.1k wip     Or, a spiralling Tim clones a baby without thinking about the consequences. And there are many, many consequences. BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ All these things (that I'll never know) by Paintedqueen, conner & clark & kara & jonathan & implied tim/kon & cast, 12.7k     Kon-El's journey on what it means to be Kryptonian.

✦ birthday bash by yeeyee123, conner & clark & jon & tim/kon, 11.8k     Kon’s pumped that Clark has brought him in to help put together Jon’s 8th birthday party. No really, he is! Just don’t ask him directly about it, or he may need to go leave the room and take a breather. Inhaling helium gas from all those balloons isn’t good for you, you know?

✦ Catching Icarus by Fantasyfire, conner & clark & justice league, 24.8k wip     A bad encounter with magic banishes Superboy into another world. Stranded, the Kryptonian clone must deal with a whole new league and a much different Superman.

✦ Nobody's Child by Kizmet, clark & conner & lois & ma kent & pa kent & cast, 18k     Superboy is deaged. While Young Justice looks for a cure Batman sticks Clark Kent with babysitting duties. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Adeamus by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & stephanie & damian & jason & tim & clark & cast, 32k     I'll always be there to catch you, Bruce had promised him once. Dick would like to believe it hadn’t been meant as a threat at the time. (or; Bruce takes over Gotham to keep his sons safe, but he’s already trained Dick too well to always protect others first)

✦ Gorgon’s eyes by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, 9k     Dick will give time to his family. He’s just came back as Nightwing after being undercover in Spyral; he understands that they won’t forgive him immediately. Except, when an encounter with neurotoxin leaves him completely paralyzed, he has no choice but to rely on them.

✦ bad signal by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, 38.4k     The rescue mission went well. Nightwing is safe. Everything should be alright. Right?

✦ And The Crown Will Sing by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, read the tags, 84.7k wip     After an encounter with alien technology, Bruce re-evaluates some previously held ideals. Gotham doesn’t need a Knight, she needs a King. Bruce will do whatever it takes to secure his rightful place as ruler of Gotham. He will do whatever it takes to keep his sons by his side. Even if it means breaking them in first. [Dark Bruce Wayne, eventual Dark Batfam]

✦ borderline by TheResurrectionist, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph, 22.7k wip     A mysterious force connects the Batfamily's minds together.

✦ Parting is all we Know of Heaven by Sword_Kallya, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & amy, suicidal ideation, 11.9k     Three months after Batman returns from the timestream, Dick Grayson has disappeared.

✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, read the tags, 18k wip     Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ A Little Out of the Ordinary by dizarys, tim & dick & conner & slade & cast, 1.5k     A boot scraped against stone at the same time pain seared through Tim’s chest, radiating from one sharp, jabbing point. With a gasping wheeze, he tried to grab at it. But his arms refused to move.

✦ Override Two: Family Protocol by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, talon!dick, 78.3k     When faced with an impossible and inescapable situation, Dick does the only thing left that he can do to save his family. Surrender himself to the Court of Owls to become their Talon in exchange for their lives.

✦ Weekend Commute by CKBookish, bruce & dick & jason & tim & donna & wally & cast, 7.4k     Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k     Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.

✦ birdsong by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & steph & cast, 22.7k     After getting a face full of Scarecrow’s newest toxin, Dick isn’t haunted by his typical nightmares. No. This one has little green pixie boots. AKA Batman: Ego but make it Robin.

✦ New Krypton by Hawkstout, dick & clark & bruce & cast, read the tags, 15.9k wip     Robin is captured by the Kryptonians and put under the care of Kal-El, the man he has known as Superman. Kal-El wants to do his best for Robin and keep the boy safe and healthy. He's fond of him. They were friends once. He hopes that once Robin understands the invasion of his home is for the best that he will grow to see him as a guardian, maybe even as a father. But Robin doesn't need another father. He needs a way to escape.

✦ i was not born to drown by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & tim & damian & donna & wally & roy & cast, 25.2k     Or: After getting shot by Doctor Hurt, Dick develops chronic migraines.

✦ Running Headlong into My Arms by gleesquid, bruce/selina & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred & cast (& some minor pairings), 54.2k     Bruce doesn’t like to credit one thing for saving his life, but if he did, it would be Haly’s Circus that Friday night in September, just as summer was beginning to die. (He'll always be a sucker for kids with sad eyes, no parents, and more fight than the world knows what to do with.) Or: in a universe where superheroes don't exist, Bruce Wayne finds his family.

✦ Waking In The Night Light by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass, 7.1k     Aside from the soft pitter-pattering of rain against the window, it’s quiet in the room. Tranquil, Bruce thinks. Or at least, as tranquil as a hospital room can get. BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred, 49.2k wip     or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne

✦ A Bat and his Birds by SalParadiseLost, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 3.1k     Bruce Wayne adopts a child on impulse... and then another... and then another. He doesn't know what he's doing, but somehow it doesn't end up too bad except for the fact that his kids think he's a vampire.

[j0kers-light]

Hey light! I've had this scenario floating around my brain I thought I'd share. So Joker was having a really rough week and his mood swings were horrendous. Plans he'd spent weeks on were ruined and didn't go well at all. His henchmen were more annoying and tiresome than usual. One day he breaks down, curls up in bed, and has a good cry, thinking he was home alone. Y/n comes home and catches him but decides not to let him see her because it would embarrass him and make him feel way worse. She just watches in silence from afar.

This is probably wayyy out of character but I love it when J gets to show emotion poor guy 🥺

His Lighthouse: Mood Swings (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mood Swings - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

I haven’t been called Light in a while, almost forgot that's me lol 😭😭This ask is definitely wayyyyy out of character however have no fear, Chaos is here! I can always make something work. Here's something short and sweet treat to munch on while I work on the chapter updates! I hope you enjoy anon!

If you wish to be a part of the His Lighthouse taglist, (or His Angel) do let me know via comment, ask, or a quick direct message! 🖤✨

Nothing was going as he planned. It was one thing after another.

The plans he spent ages on perfecting were ruined, tensions were at an all time high, and to make matters worse, his goons were screwing up left and right.  

Normally Joker would have killed any signs of weakness, but he couldn’t get rid of his entire payroll. How was it possible that everyone was annoying? Even Frost wasn’t off the hook. At least he had the decency to acknowledge his mistakes and apologize.

No one else did and that irked J even more. Either everyone was an idiot, or the universe had it out for him.  

Honestly, it could be both. It was turning out to be a really rough week with no end in sight.

There was some hope when a revised plan was going well; however, it was quickly ruined by none other than Batman. Joker could not get ahead. He was this close to pulling his hair. 

He had to get away before his demons started airing the place out.

The whispers were getting louder and louder. ‘Stab him, strangle them...’ and his fingers itched to obey.. until he saw your disapproving face appear in his mind.

His Light would be devastated to find out his no killing streak reverted back to zero. He was doing so well too!  

For your sake, Joker managed to curb his urges, but after one of his goons screwed up and almost leaked the main hideout’s location online, enough was enough.  

Joker could not handle anymore. He forcibly removed himself from the situation with a clear destination in mind: your penthouse. He sought out your peaceful bubble, perhaps you could turn his bad mood back around. Joker had to get away before he did who knows what. 

And just Joker’s luck, his misfortunes followed him home. He was convinced he was cursed because this week was officially the worst.  

He struggled to open your front door (of all days the key would get stuck and that was after dropping them) he felt like a raging bull. Joker saw red and he needed an outlet to purge this negative energy into. He wouldn’t dare place it on you.  

No, he needed to be alone to sort this out. He felt a headache building and strangely enough, his eyes were tingling. Joker refused to believe he was going to cry.

No matter how horrendous his week was, Joker was not a crier. He refused to be weak in front of anyone and that included you.  

That thought made him pause in the foyer. Where were you anyways?  

He called out your name—only for silence to echo back. Of all the days you weren’t home.

J didn’t know if this were a good or a bad thing. He was glad you didn’t see him like this and yet, he kinda wished you were here to educate him on what to do.  

You were aptly named his lighthouse for your skills in leading out of the darkness. And right now, it was so dark, Joker couldn’t see the end of the tunnel. His mind was fighting against him and his emotions were getting the better of him. He didn’t feel like himself.   

He kicked his shoes off and ran a hand through his green tresses.

Your penthouse was pristine, a big burst of color and steeped with a whimsical flare.  

A candle burned safely in a votive nearby and its soothing scent went completely over Joker’s head. He was just too far gone for the little things to calm him down. It would take a herculean effort to get him back sane.. at least back to his normal sane self.  

You always demanded cleanliness and order. Everything had a place and right now, Joker felt like he didn’t belong. He considered trashing the place. The thought was too tempting to pass up. 

As much as Joker told himself to behave, he stomped his way down the hall, breaking anything his hands could get a hold of.

Once he entered the bedroom, he snatched a pillow off the bed and screamed into it. He remembered you saying once that it was a great way to relieve stress, but he still felt the same afterwards. Did he somehow do it wrong?  

His clown makeup was smudged all over the case, and it got his mind thinking. Yelling into a pillow was stupid. He quickly tore it into shreds.  

The imported feathers floated in the air, and they provoked his inner desire to destroy more. He knew you would be angry.  

Well touch luck, Joker was angry too.  

The other pillows suffered the same fate as Joker tore through the room like a tornado.

He would suffer the consequences of his actions later, each tear, every crack, satisfied the demons screaming in his head. A little broken furniture was better than a pile of dead bodies. He hoped you would understand.  

His rampage went on until he was out of breath and was slowly coming to his senses.

Sadly, Joker was still as angry as before. Nothing was working! Joker kicked over the decorative ottoman before belly flopping onto the bed.

Surprisingly, it survived his initial rage and despite his better judgement, Joker let out a gut wrenching yell that ended in a rare sob.  

Joker thought he was stronger than this. He royally failed for letting his emotions get the better of him. This week really took a toll on him, and he had exhausted every method to calm down. All except one.

Joker was powerless against the sudden wave of sleepiness taking him under after his rare show of emotions.  

He clung to the last pillow that smelled of you as you watched on from the doorway. 

Your poor clown was hurting.  

You weren’t ignorant to the levels of stress Joker was going through this week. His nights were longer, his tolerance weakened to the point he almost snapped at you a few times. 

Nothing ever went Joker’s way with the constant perfection he demanded for his criminal heists. He put too many expectations on himself and his goons. 

No one was perfect, case in point, you watched helplessly as Joker broke down. You would worry about cleaning up later. Your heart went out to Joker, who was so far removed from human emotions that he didn’t know he was having a meltdown.  

He didn’t even notice you coming home, he was so overwhelmed.  

He acted like a wounded animal, lashing out while on the verge of tears. Have you ever seen Joker cry before? The details didn’t matter.

You didn't dare to confront him during this rare lapse of character. He would be embarrassed and lash out, thus making things worse.  

You wisely waited in the shadows. When Joker was down for the count, you stepped into the bedroom to offer your silent support.  

You set your purse down and sighed at the mess Joker left behind before climbing into bed. J flinched in his sleep when you reached out for him but he slowly relaxed when his subconscious realized it was you.  

His Light was finally here to help whatever was ailing him.

You cooed softly when Joker tightened his grip on you as his breathing picked up. You didn’t want him waking up.  

Right now, he needed all the rest he could get. He was like a toddler all tuckered out after a tantrum. You let him sleep on your chest as you raked your hands through his green tresses.  

And when Joker woke up hours later in your arms, you simply smiled at him and wiped the dried tears from his cheeks. “You feeling better, J?” 

[captain-pheonix]

Hi this is a silly question but I really like your stuff and I think you're cool and really swag writer so I was wondering if you could do one with the TF2 mercs (and maybe miss Pauling, whatever you want) with a reader who boxes? Can be romantic or platonic, and the gender can be whatever you find easier to write. Ok, thank you ❤️😭

Mercs + Pauling (romantic and/or platonic) x gn!reader who likes boxes 📦 (HCs)

A/n: AHHHH TY ANON ILY 🫶 This isn’t weird at all, seriously, I am a certified creature and you have 100% come to the right person. I collect Apple product boxes and if I’m being honest if I lived by myself I’d just collect boxes regularly. Im making this gn!reader that can be read as platonic or romantic! Hope you enjoy!!

BIG EDIT: HOLY SHIT ANON IM SO SORRY I CANT READ YOU MEANT A READER THAT BOXES NOT A READER THAT LIKES BOXES IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭😭 IM GONNA MAKE ANOTHER POST FOR A READER THAT BOXES IM SO SORRY

Warnings: none (boxes jumpscare, graphic depictions of cardboard)

Pauling

• Girlie is like “huh” but doesn’t really care because all the other mercs are equally if not more insane (and we all know the admin is, too)

• When she finds out, she finds it kinda funny, gives her a tiny break from being a workaholic 25/8

• “What do you find so fascinating about them?” Ms. Pauling says, genuinely curious. You explain that they’re just nice, they itch your brain the right way, and just like how a child sees one of those huge appliance boxes. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense, actually. Interesting. Never would have thought about that.”

• ✨the box hoard TM✨ is probably just in a corner or a closet somewhere

• She’ll probably ask if she can have any because they’d be really nice for sorting paper work

• Up to you, but maybe you give her a few you don’t like as much

Sniper

• bro is confuzzled

• thinks you’re crazy

• exits the room

• (no)

• like Pauling, he’s a bit confused, but after explaining how it’s like that feeling you get as a kid seeing a package arrive in a huge box, he understands it a bit more

• probably a little weirded out by your ✨box hoard✨ anyway

• calls you a cat 😞

• I feel like he’d be the kind who might get annoyed at the box board being around, thinking it takes up space and it needs to be tidied

• might get something to help you organize the boxes

Scout

• finds it absolutely positively hilarious cannot stop laughing

• “What? You like boxes?”

• Shoves you in boxes because it’s funny 😔

• after explaining the whole “it just sorta itches my brain like when a kid sees an empty box something was in” thing, he’s like “oh my gosh, that totally makes sense, actually!”

• 10/10 would just chill in one your boxes even if it’s a little small

• weird but wholesome headcannons that you two would fall asleep/cuddle in your boxes together

• honestly though after a while I feel like he’d join your box hobby

• he might ask for the boxes after someone gets a delivery or orders something just for you

• drawing on the boxes!!!

Medic

• Blud is like “ok cool”

• prob gives you boxes leftover from shipments of medical supplies like plastic bits (I wouldn’t take the ones from his shipments of animal organs 😬)

• those boxes might smell like the med lab 😔

• but I mean if you enjoy his scent or something then it’s probably a nice reminder

• when you talk about how a kid would react when a giant box shows up in the mail and how it never went away he gets it

Pyro

• you know for a fact bro is playing with them

• completely understands right off the bat you do not have to explain anything

Spy

• boxtrot taunt

Demo

• too drunk to give a shite

• you may or may not find some bottles in the boxes

Engie

• May have some boxes kicking around to give you

• kinda doesn’t get it but when you explain he’s just like “ok then guess ur just quirky like that”

Soldier

• I’m gonna follow Electrro64rus and say this man is crazy about boxes

• very excited when he finds out you like collecting boxes

• don’t have to explain why you collect boxes, dude is just excited to also participate

Heavy

• utter confusion

• even when you explain it still utter confusion

[nctstar]

idk if u write for tbz but if u do can i request haechan and sunwoo smut pls! if not gamer! hyuck and renjun would b great ILYYY

hi! this is so late I'm sorry :( I don't write for tbz! but definitely for nct. I tried my best with the gamer aspects but I am not a gamer so...ANYWAY I tried my best, what can I sayyy :D hope you like ily too <3

do i seem familiar?

The softness of his lips erupted on your mouth, shutting your eyes, letting him taste you. He slipped his tongue inside, and you gasped. Pulling away, you wanted to whine, beg, anything to taste him again. He brought one hand to your face, stroking the side of your jaw. “What’s your name?”

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

pairing: hyuckren x fem!reader (no hyuckren ship)

other members: none

word count: 5k

genre: SMUT bro what can i say

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! reader is a streamer/cam girl, reader and hyuckren speak in korean and english throughout and sometimes don't understand each other but everything is consensual! mention of breasts multiple times, threesome, breastplay, use of whore and slut, profanity, degradation (not too crazy), dom!hyuckren, bit of thigh slapping, fingering, squirting, being held down + manhandled, begging. oral (male receiving), praise kink, intense orgasms, double penetration, rough sex, crying during and after sex, tiny bit of overstimulation (not really), finishing inside, kissing, alluding to aftercare at the end (very important!)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: lowkey i think all my smuts are a little bit similar to each other haha. ALSOO the italics in quotations are things said in korean, and non-italics is english, hope that's not confusing.

y_3to3: you look so pretty today baby <3

A flood of messages inundated your screen, aggressively drowning out the simplicity of the one that had caught your eye. Much like a passing quiet comment as you walked down the street, or even less – a whisper of a thought, someone who knew too much, or not at all, the thought begging to be heard.

Your face felt hot under the mask, your eyes threatening to water at the light radiating off your many monitors. The red dot blinked, one, two, matching your heartbeat. Camera on.

“Thank you!” You responded as you fixed your top, a skimpy strappy corset top, your chest bursting at the seams as the old push-up bra did its work. You were suddenly nervous, as if he could really see you. Past all the screens, the messages flooding into your inbox, the red, blinking light.

You wondered what the other men would think knowing you and y_3to3 had met. Would they cry? Wail? Beg on their hands and knees in front of you – in front of him? Would they get aggressive? You hadn’t really thought of that. His handsome demeanour, your soft skin, the way your body just melted under the heat of his body…it was not something you could resist by thinking logically.

“No game today, guys. It’s Halloween! I thought we could just chat for a while!” You fought the urge to itch the strap underneath your right armpit, becoming more and more aware of how uncomfortable the bra was. Smiling through it all, you continued. “Uh, can anyone guess who I am?”

The messages didn’t stop coming, but nobody was answering.

You coughed awkwardly, readjusting yourself in your chair, sneaking glances in the mirror behind your camera to check what you were showing off. Damn, you thought, seeing your boobs pushed together, the pouty pink lips and the doe eyes staring back at you, I look like a whore.

New member. The notification caught your eye. No one had really added themselves mid-stream in a while now, not anybody new, at least.

“Hey, welcome!” Your voice came out hesitant, the same paranoia that always overtook you filling your senses. What if it was your mom, or your boss?

You gulped, but there was a message waiting for you within seconds.

해찬: 마스크걸?

Shit. You didn’t know how to read Korean, only learning how to speak bits and pieces here and there.

“Uh…” You were nervous, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also having this sudden urge to accommodate the stranger that had dominated all of a sudden. “My Korean is not great. And I can’t read. But, thank you.” You cringed at the sound of your own voice, and almost wanted to end the stream right then and there. But then, they replied.

해찬: you speak very good.

A weird warmth spread your stomach, and you couldn’t help yourself. “Thank you, uh, I’m not sure…oh gosh, I guess I have to Google Translate your username! That’s embarrassing.”

해찬: my name is hae-chan.

“Oh, n-nice, nice to meet you.” His forwardness took you off guard, mainly being used to men who had never spoken to a woman in real life joining your chat, timidly hiding in the shadows until they got a glimpse of cleavage and couldn’t hold it in anymore. You gave a small smile, one that would please everyone, but also hide something extra for the people you liked and wanted.

y_3to3: he said you’re mask girl. it’s pretty obvious.

y_3to3: you don’t need google translate. i can do it for you. and more. if you want.

Your heart pounded, suddenly quietened by this virtual conversation. Your eyes read the letters over and over again, until the texts rose on the screen.

해찬: yeah, so can i. i just thought she could read korean. my bad.

Your head swam, not knowing how to process all this. One had itched to turn your camera off, suddenly feeling really vulnerable and exposed. That blinking red light kept relenting in the background.

You clapped your hands together. “Guys, it’s kinda getting late! You guys need your sleep, and so does your Mask Girl!” You ignored the men who moaned and groaned at it being only 11pm, and how you didn’t even dance for them tonight, or spill water down your shirt. “Until next time, okay? Stay safe, everyone!” Your voice felt too perky, like it was out of a Black Mirror episode, unsettling and uncanny.

The red, blinking light went off, and you sighed. A million thoughts entered your brain, but they were all immersed in the fog of tiredness that took over your body. Legs moving at their own accord, you stumbled over to your bed, ripping the mask off in the process. As your stomach pushed up on the already too-tight top, you felt breathless as you lay at the foot off your bed, but you closed your eyes, listening to your muscles screaming for rest. “Renjun, his name was Renjun, I think…” You whispered, feeling a little crazy, a little like a witch or a little girl trying to manifest the attention of their crush they looked at for 2 seconds. He hadn’t taken his mask off, but you had felt him anyways. Inches sheathed inside you, thrusting in time with your moans. “Fuck.” How could you want someone that bad? Is this what those lonely men in your dms felt like?

Nevertheless, the memory of the smell of expensive cologne, hands roaming limitlessly on your uncovered body, dragon-like eyes watching you as you fell apart – all of it let you dream restlessly, your body twisted uncomfortably on your bed, your computer droning in the background and the makeup remaining untouched on your face, skincare be damned.

∞

You hadn’t seen his face before today, and you kind of hated yourself for agreeing to meet him again. He was mask-less, and you quickly realised he had a face sculpted by divine forces themselves, sharp, meticulous, perfect. Enough to ruin your life in a heartbeat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Renjun? I-I’m sorry if I’m not pronouncing that right.”

He nodded silently, and you fought the urge to hold your breath, his skin shone even under the crappy lighting of the PC bang. An awkward silence ensued as your brain scrambled for the right words, not only to say but the ones that would be grammatically correct in Korean. “Thanks for inviting me here. Should we find a place now?”

“Are you hungry?” His eyes searched yours, and you felt the pull you had that night at that hotel room, last night as you read the message, he had boldly hit send on for the world to see.

“No.” You shook your head, trying not to smile in an off-putting way. You prayed he hadn’t noticed the pimple on your face, and your anxiety made sure you were thinking about the fact that you had done your makeup differently every second since you had left the house. It looks good. On camera. Not in person. You kinda look like a slut. But in a good way? Too much blush. Should have worn lashes. Should have worn makeup like the day he felt compelled to take you to a hotel and f-

“I brought my friend. Do you mind?” He looked nervous now, or maybe he was nervous the whole time? You weren’t sure. As you thought of other things, you didn’t process the fact that he had asked you a question.

“Is this her?” You could have sworn you had heard a voice, but Renjun didn’t react to it, and you wondered if it was another voice in your head. “That’s okay, right? Or if you don’t want him here-“

“Him?” Another person was definitely a little unexpected. But you swallowed the little shock you had and tried to reply normally. It’s not that bad. It won’t be awkward. At least he didn’t say she – HAH!

“No, I mean, that’s okay!” Your voice was started to travel upwards to an obnoxiously high pitch, and you willed it down again. “Is he here?”

“Renjun-ah, I already found a place for the two of us. You didn’t tell me she was-oh.” The unidentified voice stopped as soon as the man stood in your line of sight. The first thing you did was use all of your willpower to prevent your jaw muscles slackening and letting your mouth drop wide open.

Holy fuck. He is so hot.

“Donghyuck.” He nodded so slightly it could have easily been missed. Your brain on overdrive at the sight of two of the hottest men you had ever encountered in front of you made you momentarily mute, and it was like Donghyuck picked up on that. Smirking, he looked down, muttering cute.

Oh my god, what is happening right now…

“This is my friend…maybe we better sit down somewhere else?” You nodded, forcing yourself to hum in response so it didn’t seem like you had gone brainless suddenly. You tried to contribute to the visual search, looking around, but your ears heated up at the realisation that Donghyuck was staring you up and down. His black rimmed eyes, whether from makeup or lack of sleep, danced across your body before resting on your facial features, making your stomach start doing backflips. You pointed at an empty row, desperate now to sit down. “There. That works, right?”

“Sure.” The English rolled off Donghyuck’s tongue in a way that indicated it wasn’t his first language, but he was oozing with confidence regardless. You finally met his gaze, fire erupting in your throat as he smirked directly at you.

Minutes later, for some reason, you were seated in the middle of them – Renjun on your right, Donghyuck on your left. The nerves were being pushed aside with a sort of familiar comfort as the game, one you had played multiple times on stream, one you were famously good at, started up. Colours flickered across your shiny eyes as you stared, unblinking.

When you started playing, you might as well have forgotten about the last twenty minutes of your life. Your fingers sprung across the keys, words erupting out of your mouth without permission. At one point, Donghyuck’s character and yours fought for an entire five minutes, both of you getting so close to finishing before swapping over, going at it repeatedly (that’s what she said). At the last minute, you prevailed. You heard him curse loudly as the character fell to the ground, red blinking letters taunting him, filling his screen. “Oh, she’s good.”

“Mmm, she is.” The emotions that had raced through your body moments ago was fighting this newfound adrenaline in your system, and you wondered what to say next. What to do next. Your hands were getting clammy, cold. Your right leg bounced on the seat.

“Again?” You turned to Donghyuck, unaware of the confidence that was taking over. He glanced at you before returning to his screen, rebooting the game. You were getting ready to turn back around, face your screen, when he said,

“Were you mask girl on camera last night?”

It’s like you could feel Renjun’s eyes widen. You were shocked, hairs rising on end. The anonymity that came with your job shattered with dangerous intent, and you tried to shake your head, to deny it. You were never a great liar.

“We hooked up once, Donghyuck. It’s not what you think.” The words pierced you, and you were frozen in place, like someone just superglued you to your seat.

“That’s not what I was saying- Look. Renjun told me what you do. And, you kinda remind me of the girl I saw last night.”

So any girl with tits is a cam girl to you? You wanted to say, but the language barrier and the decency that comes with being in a public place stopped you. And what if I am? Why are you asking me this?

“Why are you saying stuff like this?”

“No, I-“

“Donghyuck.” Renjun’s voice came as a warning, but that was when you noticed Donghyuck’s name on the screen, unapologetically butting into the conversation.

해찬

“Oh my god.” Both men appeared concerned, stopping their bickering. You felt one hand rest on your thigh gently, tentatively. “Sorry, are you-“

“You’re Haechan?” You turned to Donghyuck, and he nodded carefully, dark eyes locked into yours, blank, unassuming. Your stomach swirled with the remnants of the thin instant coffee you had swallowed minutes ago, Renjun’s hand on your thigh stilling your bouncing leg. “I just, well, I didn’t expect-“

“It was, um, accident. I’m not like other men.” You fought the urge to snicker at his endearing broken English, sounding completely like an incel but not intending too. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just curious. And Renjun told me he had met a cam girl, and, well, it kind of just made sense in the moment.”

You nodded, not sure how to react. You watched as Donghyuck’s hands flew as he spoke, his lips curled in, almost pouting, his features turning almost cartoonishly apologetic. It was so adorable, a stark contrast to the intensity of his eyes, the sharp edges of the hair that grazed his eyebrows.

Renjun sighed loudly, and you felt the warmth leave the middle of your thigh as he removed his hand from your body. He cursed silently, rubbing at his temples. “Sorry if this made you uncomfortable.”

“N-no, no,” You tried to be reassuring, but your voice shook, not for the reasons they had thought originally though. Here you were, your secrets out, quite literally in the middle of two men you had met in person that you weren’t sure if they were thinking the same thing as you – you needed them so bad – the hypersexual nature of your side hustle now glaringly obvious, threatening to break the taboos of a normal interaction. You shuffled in your seat, right leg itching to rest over your left. “It’s okay, um. You guys seem nice enough. Shall we get something to eat after this?”

One thing had led to another. One instance of Donghyuck swiping his card before you could even flick yours out. Let me. Renjun picking up a dessert you had said you liked in your streams maybe once. Them gesturing at your nose, realising the whipped cream had rubbed off. You licking your fingers with satisfaction underneath the white flickering lights of the convenience store. Tastes so good, wow. Donghyuck’s fingers grazing your hips as he pushed past you to open the door for you and Renjun. You pretending not to notice that Renjun was staring at your top, hoodie off to expose the crop you usually only wear at home, feeling embarrassed that there was a stain on the right arm. Wondering if he thought you were unkempt, unorganised. Wondering if that was a turn off…

“Wow, nice building.” Donghyuck’s hair shone as you looked back at him, your Hello Kitty bag slung over one of his forearms. You pressed your lips together, feeling a little vulnerable, maybe even a little scared. “Yeah, I get good money from, well. Maybe I should just quit my job!” Renjun laughed, but Donghyuck was silent, perhaps from not understanding, perhaps thinking about something else. You weren’t sure.

“Um, I don’t really have a dining room,” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the mess in your little kitchenette, the lack of a sofa or coffee table imminent in the blankness of the room. “Been kind of busy, didn’t really have time to…” You were more or less lying, more or less talking to yourself, forgetting that English was probably not the best language to explain things in right now. You nodded at no one in particular, before pointing at your bedroom door. “Should we…?”

Renjun had laughed audibly when stepping into your room, Donghyuck muttering cute once again but just a bit louder this time. You chuckled weakly, but your face started to burn, embarrassment leaking into your veins like a potent poison. The plushies and Sanrio merch made you feel more exposed than ever, and your eyes widened when you noticed your favourite orange dildo resting on the bed, as shameless as a naked lover waiting for you after a long day at work. “Uh, okay, um,” You began to babble, trying to quickly shove away the apparatus and praying it would grow legs and run away while they weren’t looking. “You can sit here.”

You bounced on the bed as the two men perched themselves next to you, you in the middle again. The plastic bags filled with random knick-knacks Donghyuck had swore you wanted crinkled as he bent over, tying a knot at the top. “You alright? You seem…nervous.” His nonchalant concern made you want to melt, want to lean over and start making out with him. What did you want, really? Why did you invite them here?

“Are you waiting for something?” Renjun’s breath tickled your ear, surprising you. You turned to face him. His scent the same as that night. Leaning over, his eyes darted back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

The softness of his lips erupted on your mouth, shutting your eyes, letting him taste you. He slipped his tongue inside, and you gasped. Pulling away, you wanted to whine, beg, anything to taste him again. He brought one hand to your face, stroking the side of your jaw. “What’s your name?”

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

As if on cue, you felt one arm wrap around your middle, knee nudging your legs apart. You tried to whip your head around, but Renjun stopped you, pressing down on your forehead so your head rested on the back on Donghyuck’s upper shoulders. You whimpered. “Donghyuck…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you.” You both adjusted so you were perched on his lap now, staring at Renjun, eyes wide in anticipation. You felt Donghyuck’s hard-on press into the ridge of your lower back. Stifling a moan, you tried to slip up and down his lap, but felt a hard slap on your thigh when you did, your actions failing to go unnoticed.

“Whore.” You whimpered, feeling Donghyuck nibble on your ear, relentlessly but also with a slight care, as if tending to an animal at flight risk. “Take your top off, if you want this.”

If you want this. His words swam in your ears, and both men paused, waiting for you to act. The tension in the air was thick, but also, you realised, fragile, like a bubble of lust that would pop with the right words, if you didn’t consent. They would definitely leave. They would never mention it again.

But you shrugged off Donghyuck’s arms around you, almost drooling at the veins, the muscles that bulged even as he let go. You pulled your top off, one hand behind your back to unclip your bra. You could feel the surprise, the shock, before Renjun latched onto one of your nipples, your back arching and Donghyuck pulling you flush against him again. “O-oh…”

“You think you can cum just like this? Filthy girl.” You weren’t really sure what exactly he was talking about, but you understood cum and whore, and you shook your head. “Want more, pl-, ah, Renjun-ah!” He started leaving love bites down the middle of your chest, another hand flicking your other nipple. You squirmed. “Please, please…”

“Showing off her rack to any man who wants it, Donghyuck-ah, did you know?” You did understand that, and your eyes watered at the humiliation, simultaneously feeling yourself get wetter as you did. “Fuck, I bet she gets off on it.”

You shook your head, but you were moaning too, which didn’t really help your case. “Please, wanna cum, please, no more-“ You tried pushing Renjun’s head off you, to which he obliged, silencing you with a kiss instead. “Tell us what you want. Come on. Otherwise I’ll leave. We’ll leave.” Donghyuck wiped your tears with his free hand, making you suddenly melt deeper into his body, into his strong arms. You breathed in deeply, your bare chest rising and falling. “Mmm, I want, um, I want your fingers, please.”

“Like this?” Renjun buried one hand inside your pants, and you took it as a sign to lose them, the both of you awkwardly shaking them off. He pulled your panties down just enough before pressing his index finger onto your clit, swirling around, making your thighs tremble. “More, please, i-inside!” Your voice rose as he inserted one inside you without warning, your fluids now gushing out, exposing you. You felt Donghyuck move his head over your shoulder, to watch you, you thought. The thought was enough to feed the humiliation even more, not even registering Donghyuck slapping at your thigh repeatedly as you watched your hole constrict around Renjun’s fingers. Moaning, you tried to move your leg away, panties now sliding off your calves and onto the floor. Donghyuck tutted, wrapping his arm underneath your thigh to push it closer to your chest. “Rest your leg on his shoulder for me. Quickly.” You complied, submission clouding your senses. The new angle allowed Renjun fingers to travel deeper, curling near that spongy part that always made you reach your climax when you pressed your dildo against it. The warmth and spontaneity of real fingers was making you shake uncontrollably, tears springing to your eyes. “Oh, haah, fuck! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You sobbed, whining and trying to scramble away as Donghyuck pressed your thigh to your chest tighter, groaning in your ear as he watched you squirt all over Renjun’s fingers, damp spots sprouting on his pants as you did.

Your eyes were ringing, spots clouding your vision. You babbled incoherently, trying to catch your breath. Renjun pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. “You okay?”

“Mmm.” you managed to make out, wiping your tears. “Wow, that was…really good.”

“Open.” Renjun pressed his fingers to your lips, allowing you to suck the ends, tasting yourself. Donghyuck’s chest vibrated as he hummed in satisfaction. “Fuck, you think you can suck me like that, baby?”

You nodded, pathetically, like a bimbo, holding your boobs as you scrambled towards the floor. You heard Renjun groan and unzip his pants as your knees scraped the carpet, and you flipped your hair over one shoulder, hands pulling at the waistband of Donghyuck’s pants. He leant back, spreading his knees further apart so you could inch closer to him, one hand sneaking up and feeling the ridges on his stomach. “Eager slut.”

The bulb sprung out, meeting your lips, and you teased his slit carefully, batting your eyes up at him in a way you thought he would like. He raised one eyebrow, but you could tell he was flustered from the way his ears burned red. “You can tease me, but don’t cry later when I do the same to you.” You giggled, wrapping both hands around his thick length. Wondering how it would feel nestled all the way inside you, whether you would be able to feel it in your stomach.

As soon as you opened your mouth, planning to suck the tip first, salty precum already pre-erupting in your mouth, you felt something hard press against your now exposed, soaking core. On instinct, you tried to straighten up through your back, but Donghyuck gripped the back of your head instantly, keeping your face close to his leaking cock. “No. You stay here.”

“Renjun-ah…” A sharp inhale as you felt him push inside, warm and so tight, the inside of your thighs now completely wet. You began to moan, mouth open, letting Donghyuck push you on his cock, shutting you up immediately.

Renjun groaned, throat constricting with every word he spoke. “Take me so well every time. Fuck. So good.” Your moans disappearing, morphing into lewd choking noises as Donghyuck held you in place. Your eyes pleaded with him, and he released you, sending you flying backwards, coughing up a mix of saliva and his precum. He gripped your chin, watching your glossy eyes stare back at him. “Don’t do anything. Don’t even think, baby. This is what you need.” You could only moan in response as Renjun gripped your hips, body flopping down as he began to thrust into you faster and faster. The way your walls constricted around him was orgasmic, nails scratching at the carpet as if it would help you anchor your body. “Fuck, yes, oh my god…” Your moans turned into cries, and you felt your impending climax overpower your body. “Please, nggh, so much…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling yourself lose control over your body.

Renjun pulled your hair so you were forced to look up. You squealed, chanting his name like a mantra. “Should I fill you up, baby?” You could only cry in response, core twitching without permission. Donghyuck brought his cock to your mouth again, cock prying your mouth open as you let your jaw slacken. Fully hard now, you gagged noisily. Renjun whispered praises in your ear as Donghyuck thrusted into your mouth, tears streaming down your face at the impact. “Good girl. Go ahead, cum for me. Cum for us.” You felt yourself fall apart, muscles paralysing as you came. Not long after, Donghyuck shot ropes of cum down your throat, swearing as he did. “You gonna swallow, baby?” No energy to nod, you brought one hand to stroke the back of his thigh, knees now sore against the rough carpet. As Renjun pulled out, you squeezed your thighs together, not letting anything leak onto the carpet. Donghyuck helped you up once you released him, carrying you bridal style to the bed, lips meeting yours once your back hit the mattress. “H-Hyuckie…”

“Oh fuck, baby. That’s such a pretty nickname. You wanna keep calling me that?” His eyes were roaming down your now naked body, your lower stomach glistening with fluids. He separated your folds with his fingers as you snapped your legs against his hand. He laughed as you shook your head desperately. “Fuck, wait, I’m sensitive! Wait a second…” Chest heaving, you watched as Renjun walked over to the bed, the outlines of his body now blurry from the tears and post-orgasmic bliss. “How are you guys hard again?”

Donghyuck responded by noisily kissing down your body. Unlike Renjun, he was sloppier, softer, more desperate. You craned your neck to watch him, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Post two intense orgasms, every nerve in your body felt like it was singed at the ends. Yet, you wanted more. Your hips bucked up involuntarily, making you blush. Renjun pressed his thumb on your bottom lip, signalling for you to open your mouth. “You wanna taste my cock too?”

“Yeah…yes, please, I think…” Renjun laughed this time, stroking his length to its full hardness before pressing the head against your lips. At the same time, Donghyuck tapped your inner thighs, and, like a secret reflex, you let your knees relax apart, hips opening. You felt something unmistakably heavy rest on your exposed pussy, and you looked down to see Donghyuck’s rubbing himself up and down your folds. “Hnghh, Hyuck, oh, will it f-fit?” He looked at you with confusion, suddenly realising you had changed languages. Before you could answer, Renjun grabbed your chin and pushed his hips, letting his cock slip past your lips and fill your mouth. “Shhh. It’ll fit. Don’t you worry.”

“Fuck, noisy girl.” Your moans were vibrating around Renjun’s cock, making him thrust sloppily and deeply, one hand holding your head in place. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself getting filled to the brim, a feeling your tiny dildo could never come close to giving you. “Renjun-ah, she’s gripping me so tight. Fuck. We found ourselves a perfect little whore.” Talking about you as if you weren’t even there, mouth occupied, unable to speak, added to the humiliation tenfold and embarrassingly made you hornier than ever. As Donghyuck sped up his thrusts, the sounds of messy sex filled the room, riling up Renjun even more. Drool ran as far down to your breasts as he thrusted, one of your hands now gripping your boob for support. “You want me to cum all over those pretty tits? Hmm?” You nodded as much as you could with the little space you had, the visual of that almost sending you over the edge.

Donghyuck pressed one finger to your clit, making you slap Renjun’s knee so hard he pulled off with a surprised groan. “Fuck! Oh fuck, please, please…” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Donghyuck pulled out, manhandling you as he pleased. Bending your hips, he pressed your thighs to your chest, pushing his entire length in as both your legs resting over one of his shoulders. This new position took your breath away, your mouth falling apart into a pornographic ‘O’ shape. Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowed, and you felt him release inside you. Thumbing your clit, your hips jerked off the bed and you cried. “Oh my god! P-please, ah, I’m gonna, oh fuck!”

“That’s it, my baby. Soak the sheets for me.” With one final cry, you squirted the hardest you had ever done before, clit throbbing as you came down from your high. You felt Renjun gently move one arm away from your chest before cumming himself all over your breasts as promised, pleasured moans and stutters of your real name escaping him as he did.

My baby. You pulled Donghyuck near you, crying in his shoulder as he rubbed your back gently, bare skin against skin. “Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay.” You felt Renjun pull your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as you breathed deeply. “Good girl. You did so well. So perfect for us.”

[amourtoken]

on my knees begging for some cryptid vessel breeding kink/size difference hcs or just anything you’ll write…. need him so bad

I'm so sorry this took me so long I didn't gain inspiration until RIGHT NOW but I'm here

Cw for some body horror esque elements it's not written to be spooky but yk

I think there was definitely a time where Vessel tried to keep his human form on most days because he was a bit self conscious and wanted to feel "normal". You found it odd he was never in his natural form these days and it kinda upset you but you didn't wanna bug him about it so you leave him be. It made coexisting in the house slightly easier but you never wanted him to feel pressured to stay in this form. You love him as is.

After several weeks of nonstop being in this form, he started to see some side effects. His body was tired of upholding this facade.

He knew it was coming but why did it have to be now?

Ves was fucking you like he was in heat, nails sinking into your hips harshly while he slammed into you and pressed your knees up to your ears. He was panting and felt so sick but God he'd really rather die than stop. He felt icy cold but was pouring sweat, you would've said something if your voice weren't caught in your throat amidst his thrusts. Truthfully you couldn't comprehend something was wrong until you suddenly felt a lot fucking fuller and a lot smaller.

Ves's moans were breaking into random pitched whines and growls, the closer he got the less control he had over himself. Thank God for the mixture of moans and the headboard rhythmically slamming against the wall so you wouldn't hear the awful cracking and splitting sounds from his joints readjusting and limbs lengthening again. He was exhausted and unfocused, he couldn't keep up his masked human shape anymore and his body was doing what his brain wasn't letting him do. He was actively reforming back to his natural state while driving his hips against yours.

He was way too large to fit entirely in your bed by the time he was fully transformed and as much as it pained him to he pulled out of you to drag you to the floor beside it. You opened your eyes just long enough to catch sight of his jaw splitting wide and teeth sharpening to points again. This didn't scare you of course, you're used to it, you know this shape better than anyone. His long limbs wrapped around you again to fuck you onto his massive length like nothing more than a fleshlight, nails digging painfully deep into your hips and back while he lifted you up and down on as much of his cock as he could fit inside you.

after a bit he really started to pick the pace up, he was feeling much better now that he didn't have to uphold a false form and as much as it bothered him in the moment that was a thought for another time. All he can focus on now is the itch in the back of his brain demanding him to fill you up entirely with his cum and not let any seep out. It felt like his higher thinking skills were slipping out of reach the closer he got, instead replaced by this ceaseless primal urge to knock you up and keep you that way.

All 6 of his eyes were trained perfectly between your bodies, watching the way he stretched you out and admiring the wet shine on his cock when he pulled out just enough to see the mess you're making on him. The angle gave him a pretty view of the big bulge in your tummy from his length as well, only driving him further into that haze in his mind. You clawed at his forearms and whimpered his name pathetically, crying about how you were gonna cum and just as your legs started to shake and your eyes roll back he leaned in for what you thought was a kiss. It could've been one, but he opted to slink his long tongue down your throat, matching his thrusts on your lower half with your upper half and making you deepthroat his tongue while you came undone on his dick. You've never felt so full in your life.

You gasped a breath when he retracted his tongue from your throat but didn't get much time to recover as he slammed you down as far as he possibly could on his cock and spilled into you without warning. His voice sounded so broken and pathetic, almost more like a wounded animal than anything human at all while he whined and moaned through his orgasm. Excess cum was spilling out of you onto the floor and you winced when he pulled out of you, adding to the massive mess you were now laying in.

Vessel was doing everything he could to hold himself up and regain his composure but his body has been on overdrive for so long poor thing needs a break :(

[i-cant-sing]

part two of yandere surgeon dabi gets jealous?

Yandere Surgeon Dabi gets jealous part 2

Part 1 can be found here.

So after Dabi finds out that you've got a brain tumor (and feeling immensely guilty for making you overwork because he wanted to "punish" you for making him "jealous", and then u ended up getting hurt), he's panicking as he calls his father, Enji Todoroki, the best oncologist in the country and also the owner of the hospital he worked at, telling him that he needs a favour.

Of course, Enji agrees to help and has Dabi send over your reports ASAP. Meanwhile Dabi is waiting in your room, holding your hand to keep himself from having a meltdown, occasionally yelling at a nurse for her incompetence whenever she came to check on you.

When you did wake up, you were surprised to see your boss by your side, eyebags under his red eyes (was he crying? Maybe.), hair dishevelled and hand still holding yours.

"Uh- Dr Dabi?" You called out, wary of him because of the disdain in his eyes (it wasn't disdain, he was mad.... at himself and at you for having this awful disease- he's just so scared, so he's masking it up by looking at you with disgust and rage).

He hesitantly dropped your hand, rubbing his eyes to relieve the itch (he didn't want you to see the tear escaping because of the news he was about to tell you) as he told you what happened.

"You... have a tumor in your brain." He said, watching your face go from surprise to disheartened to just... acceptance.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah. It is what it is."

It is so NOT what it is.

Dabi furrowed his brows. "I'll get this tumor out of you. You'll be fine. You don't need to worry about anything. You'll be under my care, I've already contacted Dr Enji Todoroki-"

"Your dad?! Whoa! He's like- the BEST oncologist!" He did not appreciate you being impressed by Enji. "I don't think I can even afford him-"

"I'm handling all your finances. I'll take care of everything."

"Oh no, you don't need to-"

"This isn't up for discussion. Like I said, I'm taking care of it all." He snapped, before leaving the room, mumbling about getting you something to eat.

Following days that you were awake, Dabi showed you a side of his that he only ever reserved for his pediatric patients.

He was caring.

Okay he was caring towards you. To everyone else, he was insufferable. While he would help you sit up and sip some water, he'd go out and yell at the nurse for bringing you water that was a degree too cold. He fluffed up your pillows but would snarl at the nurses for not bringing you extra pillows. He'd spoon feed you meals but he almost beat up the cafeteria cook for making the absolute bland, zero nutrition food.

Dabi was stressing and de-stressing simultaneously. While he was calm and patient towards you, he was just panicking on the inside about your tumor, so he'd go hard on the hospital staff to blow off some steam. But you get the better end of the deal, you get princess treatment (that is totally not based on him trying to rid himself of guilt)

Anyways, just a few days later, Enji has come to your room to introduce himself as the lead doctor for your case, and that he was gonna do his best to remove the tumor.

"You will need surgery. Dabi, can you prepare OR 2 for 4pm today-"

"S-surgery?" You asked.

Enji and Dabi looked at each other, then back at you as they nodded.

"Yes. Um, do you have any concerns?"

You remained quite, fumbling with your thumbs. You don't wanna sound stupid in front of such an amazing surgeon.

"Y/n?" Dabi walked closer to you. "What is it?" He demanded softly.

"I-I don't want to sound ungrateful or undermine you, but I've been studying my case as well and well- what are the risks?" You asked nervously, afraid of offending either of them.

Enji smiled. "No, it's my mistake for not explaining earlier. I just thought Dabi had already informed you." He looked at his son but Dabi didn't meet his eyes. "Well, to answer you question- there are chances of amnesia and paralysis. But I can assure you-"

"What are the chances? Percentage?"You asked, throat closing up.

"70%." Oh no. "But 30% is more than enough-"

"Not for me." You mumbled. "There is- there is an option for chemo and radiotherapy, right? They have far lower risks for the complications you mentioned, right?"

Enji nodded. "Yes, but I would highly recommend you go for surgery-"

"No. Chemo and radio."

"Y/n-" Dabi called out to you. "-the tumor can be removed now. With chemo and radio, it's not confirmed if we'll be able to get rid of the tumor then. I'm scheduling you for surgery-"

"No! I said- no surgery. And that's my final decision." You huffed out, and Dabi glared at you. Enji excused himself, clearly you two needed to talk this out.

"You're a doctor- a surgeon! I don't understand why you're not opting for surgery-"

"The risk is too high!"

Dabi scoffed. "There's a 30% chance none of that will happen! We've been doing surgeries when there were less than 10% chances of survival!"

"I- I just can't take the risk, Dr Dabi. Its just too high for me." You said, eyes starting to tear up.

Dabi sighed before sitting on the chair next to your bed. "Look, I understand that you're scared but I guarantee you, none of those complications will happen. I'll be operating with Dr Enji. Don't you have faith in me?"

"I do. I know that you and Dr Enji are both- extremely skilled doctors but I just- I can't risk those complications."

Dabi furrowed his brows, losing his patience. "So what? You'd rather lose your life than have to live with amnesia? Partial paralysis? Are you stupid? You'd much rather die than be alive with complications?"

"Yes." You replied, tears falling down your face. "Yes. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Y/n-"

"My mother had Alzheimers." You whispered. "I had seen what it did to her, how the disease slowly enveloped her until she was nothing but a shell. She is- she couldn't even recognise herself in the mirror one day. And it's just- it's so fucking unfair. For all the sacrifices she made, for all the good times she worked so hard for, all of it went down the drain in an instant. She has no memories of any achievement, she doesn't remember marrying my father, having kids, anything. She doesn't even remember what her favourite color was, what her favourite band was- nothing. And it's all- it affected everyone of us. My father- he died. He loved her so much but my mother would panic everytime she saw him and didn't recognise him, screaming bloody murder that there was a stranger in her bed. And then one day, she- she just killed him. Just picked up a knife and stabbed the stranger standing in the kitchen. She killed her husband because she couldn't recognise him. A few months later, she died as well."

Dabi's heart sunk. You'd never opened up to him like this before, and why would you? It's Dabi who imagines you two are way closer than just on a professional level, something more than colleagues.

He swallowed as he chose his next words carefully. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/n. However, I still insist that you get the surgery. What happened with your mother, will not happen to you. I will make sure-"

"You don't understand." You closes your eyes, brows furrowing in frustration. "I cannot afford to take that risk-"

"And why the hell not?!" He finally snapped. He's been way too patient with you but you keep pushing him.

You looked at him, shock evident on your face before you composed yourself.

"I have people dependent on me. My little brother, he'd been the most affected by my parents deaths. If I were to go through the same things as them, he'd- he'd lose it. Id rather die than to have him witness yet another family member succumb to this, and worse- wonder if he'll get this disease too." You grabbed his hand, and Dabi's eyes softened ever so slightly (though his brows were still knit together in frustration). "I don't expect you to understand or sympathise with me, but I do have memories that are far too precious. I cant lose them. And I can't have amnesia, or paralysis or anything physically limiting because I'd rather not be a burden on my brother... or anyone."

Dabi shook his head, his hand squeezing yours in affirmation. "You wouldn't be a burden, not to me. I'd take care of you, I'd take care of everything. Your brother wouldn't need to know about anything. I'd just- I'd take care of it, okay?"

You smiled sadly, before pulling your hand away. "That's very kind of you, Dr Dabi but... my decision is final. No surgery."

Dabi left your room, opting to release his anger on some new interns than blow up on you. Why are you making everything so fucking complicated?

By evening, he's calmed down and he swings by your room to check in on you, heart turning to mush as he caught you asleep. You're a lot less mad to get at when you're asleep because you don't say hurtful things like the one where you insist on endangering yourself.

And for who? Your brother? This right here- the fact that you always put everyone's need above yours is the only flaw that you have. That and you're stubbornness.

"My decision is final. No surgery."

Dabi hopes it's just the brain tumor impairing your decision making, because there's no way he's just gonna allow you to throw your life away for no reason.

The next morning, you were greeted by... Doctor Keigo Tamaki.

A psychiatrist.

Also, Dabi's best friend. (Dr Keigo claims this, Dabi doesn't.)

Apparently, Dabi sent Keigo to talk some sense into you and convince you for surgery because Keigo claims he's been told that you've been showing... "suicidal behaviour". So, Dabi wanted you to get some "much needed" therapy.

You chuckled, because clearly this is a joke. I mean, you know how Dabi is. He may have a cold hard, stick-up-his-ass exterior, but deep down you know he cares about everyone, especially his patients. And you're his patient too, so it makes sense.

Dabi continued to take care of you, monitoring your meds and still doing daily reports on the tumor to see its progression, all while trying to provide you some emotional support. But it seemed like rather he was the one in need of emotional support from you, as you continued to affirm him that you will get better one day, that you do feel better every day.

And as much as he wouldn't like to admit that you were right, the chemotherapy was indeed working. You were doing better than before.

Maybe this was one of the times Dabi didn't mind being wrong.

He smiled softly as he watched you sitting on the bed, talking animatedly with Keigo and the nurse, Dabi pretending to read your reports over for the 10th time, like he wasn't just listening to you crack the most unfunny joke.

As if Dabi wasn't smiling from ear to ear.

"Y/n? Oh- what's that?" The worry in Keigo's voice had Dabi whipping his head towards you, eyes widening at the streak of blood dripping down from your nose. Dabi yelling at the nurse to pass you the tissues before he snatched the box from her and pulled out a few tissues, bringing them to your nose and tilting your head back.

You looked at him in confusion, Dabi's face barely masking the panic as blood started pouring out of your left eye, and then the right one.

"D-dabi?" You whispered, before your eyes rolled back as seizures took over your entire body, violently jerking as Dabi began screaming orders at the nurses, snatching the anti epileptic injection and injecting you immeadiately while Keigo made sure your seizures didn't end up harming you.

The drug worked and you were sedated, Dabi's mind going at a million miles per hour as he tried to process what just happened when Keigo's voice brought him back.

"Dabi. Look." He followed Keigo's gaze towards your lower abdomen, heart stopping as he saw a giant blood spot around your crotch area. Pulling away the sheets, he saw the bloody mess and the two men shared a look before beginning to reel you towards the radiology to get a brain scan, and send blood samples to lab.

When you woke up a few hours later, Dabi was sitting in your dimly lit room, eyes red and furious and just so... tired.

With bleary eyes, you asked him. "What happened?"

Dabi just glared at you, and he looked like he was just barely containing his rage, thinking of his choice of words carefully.

"You-" Dabi pursed his lips, before breathing deeply to calm himself. "-You need the surgery."

You sighed. "We've been over this already-" but Dabi slammed the reports on the overbed table, standing up and pacing around the room as he waited for you to read them over.

As you pulled out the brain scans, you immediately recognised the problem-

"The tumor hasn't shrunk." Dabi said, still pacing.

"Well, it has shrunk a bit-"

"It isn't shrinking fast enough!" Dabi snapped. "The chemo isn't working fast enough and the side effects of those drugs are making you sicker!"

You shrugged. "Well, those effects were expected-"

"No, I didn't expect you to fucking seize and bleed through almost every hole in your body!" Dabi yelled, eyes shooting daggers at you. You remained quiet as he continued to pace around your room, running a hand through his hair frustratedly as he continued to list how every single worst side effect could possibly start to appear in your body if you do not get surgery.

"I'm booking the OR tomorrow. You'll get the surgery at 9 am-"

"No. I- I am not consenting to this surgery-"

"Did you not just hear what I said? You could die-"

"Possibly die. Possibly bleed to death. Possibly. Possibly. I'm fine with taking my chances. And it's no news to either of us that chemo is causing my health to deteriorate a bit because it usually gets worse before it gets better!" You explained.

"Y/n-"

"No. Surgery. I'm not consenting."

Dabi stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, spooking the nurses enough for them to get out of his way.

Dabi continued to walk, a murderous expression on his face as he reached the OR duty board to look at the surgeries he was scheduled for tomorrow.

Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?

Don't you understand that just because you want to take risk the possibilities doesn't mean he want to as well?

That he can't risk the possibility of your dying?

"And I won't." He picked up the eraser and cleared out the whole board before beginning to reschedule all surgeries, writing your name on the very top, along with his father's.

You're getting that surgery, one way or another.

He called his father to tell him that he's scheduled to operate on you tomorrow, before calling Keigo.

-

The next time you woke up, your room was still dimly lit. Your body felt weaker than before, arms heavy as you realised its hard to move any of your limbs.

Was this yet another effect of chemotherapy? Or just the brain tumor doing its horrors.

Your mind flashed back to your conversation with Dr Dabi. A part of you wondered if you should just give in and get the surgery. Maybe- maybe your brother will understand-

No. You can't. You can't take the chance.

Just then, Dabi walked in, looking slightly surprised that you're conscious.

"You're awake." You opened your mouth to reply but found it hard to do so, your entire mouth felt like cotton.

As if sensing, Dabi walked closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Its okay, its just the anesthesia wearing off. You don't need to talk, just rest."

Anesthesia?

The confusion in your eyes must've been prominent as Dabi made an "Ah!" sound.

"Anesthesia... fron your surgery. This morning." But I didnt consent. "I know you didn't consent, but it's alright. Dr Keigo said that after his thorough evaluation, he deemed you unable to take care of yourself and make good decisions. Health related decisions. So, we decided to sign you up for surgery."

Surgery? What surger-

Even in your drug induced state, your mind was able to answer your own question. And knowing that Dabi was well aware that you never consented to it, that he just violated your autonomy-

Dabi sighed softly as he wiped the tears that slipped down your cheeks. "Y/n- Y/n, come on, now. Stop crying. The surgery went well, nothing happened to you. Dad- Dr Enji was able to remove the tumor with ease, and I was right there with you the whole time. I wouldn't have allowed any mistakes, not even from my own father." He lowered himself until his face was just a few inches away from yours. "I was right, wasn't I? About the surgery being a success, about no complications occuring. So, come on now. Stop crying. This was for your own good. And I will continue to make better decisions for you, until you can start making them for yourself again, okay?" Very daringly, Dabi raised his hand to your face to tuck away some strands of your hair behind your ear.

If you weren't so shocked, you may have recognised the silent "I love you" in all these actions.

[kometqh]

𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

Commander Fox x F!Reader Fox is a meticulous man. He doesn’t do things for ‘the sake of it’. So why couldn’t you tell the meaning of his words now? Word Count: 2,133 Warnings: Mild swearing, angst, mean to sad Fox. A/N: This came to me an hour ago and I needed to write it or else I'd be biting my pillow :( I hope whoever reads this will enjoy it <33

Fox is mean. Fox is rude. He’s rude, but in such a way that one can’t counter. Fox is a meticulous man. He doesn’t do things for ‘the sake of it’. No. Each word and action has meaning to it. Usually you prided yourself on being able to read his mind, understand his tactics. So why couldn’t you tell the meaning of his words now?

“It’s over. Don’t try to contact me again.” Were his words as he sipped on some whiskey neat. He looked so relaxed, so nonchalant as he destroyed a year-long relationship. But even as his words tore through you, he couldn’t look you in the eye. He didn’t respect you enough to even look at you as he ripped your love for him apart.

“But what about-“

“I’ll come by tomorrow to pick my things up,” He quickly interrupted, intent on silencing you, “It’s about time I did this. I don’t see this relationship working out… In the long-term. You’re fun, but you can’t give me what I need.” He continued, eyeing the golden liquid with a stern gaze and furrowed brows.

His words cut through like broken shards of glass. They dug into your skin, cutting and tearing with practised precision. He was aiming for where it hurt, straight for your heart.

“You’ve got nothing to say?” He asked, finally looking up from his glass. That meant something, but what? You couldn’t tell. Not anymore. “Good. I’ll see you there, two PM sharp.”

“Okay.” You uttered out, looking down at your lap as you reached for your handbag.

“Okay? That’s it?” He prodded with a raised brow. Your reaction set off sparks in his brain, his neurons working hard to convey the confusion from a mental level to a physical one. He expected you to cry, to beg him to stay, to question why he was doing this. He almost felt betrayed by your lack of response.

His body was rigid, shoulders stiff as he remained glued to his seat. The movement of his glass had stopped, his hand resting flat against the table in between the two of you.

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts, to swallow down the flickering, burning pain of your heart shattering.

“I’m… I’m sure you have a reason,” You spoke slowly, carefully, rising from your seat with wobbly legs, “I just don’t wanna hear it. See you later, Commander.” Your words were quiet, meek, as you walked away without sparing another glance at him.

Fox was the one who broke up with you. He was the one who tossed you aside like a used tissue. So why, as you walked further and further away, did his chest hurt and his fingers itch to reach out for you?

Three precise knocks on your door interrupted your holofilm. You were currently laying on your sofa, mindlessly watching your favourite romcom. The events of last night replayed like a broken tape, Fox’s voice replaying like a broken record, and your heart twisting and breaking like a broken toy.

You cried on your way home, you cried as you showered, you cried as you fell asleep. You were hoping it was all a dream, that your darling commander would reassure you, tell you it was ‘just a shitty nightmare’, but deep down you knew it wasn’t.

With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, reluctantly, you abandoned the comfort of your sofa and made your way over to the front door.

The sooner you let him in, the sooner he would leave.

The soft ‘click’ of your door and the gentle breeze that pushed its way into your apartment had your heart racing and your gut twisting. Bile rose up into your throat as he came into view.

Your gaze remained trained just below his face, centred on his chest. He was wearing the hoodie you had gifted him with. What was the point? Was he doing this just to antagonise you? The sweet and caring Fox you knew was gone, replaced by this complete son of a bitch.

“Hi.” His voice came out sweetly, softly as you opened the door far enough to let him in. You were very eager to slam the wooden structure in his perfectly awful face.

But instead, you turned away, making your way back to your sofa and fuzzy blanket.

“Come in.” You threw over your shoulder, settling into your makeshift comfort.

You retrieved your TV remote, and turned to him one last time.

“Feel free to roam around and get anything of yours. If you need help, or can’t find something, just ask.” And with a soft click, the sound of your favourite holofilm filled the otherwise silent space of your apartment.

All Fox said in response was ‘Okay’ before he got to work, carrying two empty cardboard boxes inside.

He headed into your bedroom first, much to your relief. You really did not want to see him.

Tears crept at the edges of your waterline, tickling and teasing as you attempted to focus solely on the film. But you couldn’t help yourself, and soon after you tuned into the muffled shuffles of Fox moving around your room.

Just a mere day prior, you would have called it your shared bedroom. When not on duty, the Commander spent most of his days at your place. The only time he wouldn’t sleep over was when he was working overnight, which wasn’t often.

Tugging your blanket closer, you dabbed at your eyes, ridding them of any evidence of crying.

But you knew Fox, and Fox knew you. When you woke up, your eyes were red, puffy and swollen. You felt the way you looked; like shit. No amount of makeup or face cleanser could wipe away the evidence of your care for him.

Fox was an observant man. He knew when something was off, no matter how well you managed to mask it. And to know he was the cause of your pain, Fox couldn’t help but cruelly indulge himself in the pain in his heart.

It was a simple fact; you were in love with the Commander of the Coruscant Guard, Commander Fox.

Commander Fox, of the Coruscant Guard, was in love with you. Enough so for his brothers to know of you. He had told them many stories, and even showed them pictures of you.

He had crept into your heart like a preying fox, stealing from your farm until all you were left with was your heart. And that, he stole too.

The sudden noise of your bedroom door opening and closing snapped you from your thoughts. Fox was awfully good at that.

He stood there, holding one of the boxes. It was filled with a few pieces of clothing you had gifted him. Clearly he wanted to hang onto those, and you wouldn’t stop him from doing so. The Chancellor did not pay the clones, you had learned soon after the beginning of your relationship with Fox. The first time you had gifted him a hoodie and some matching socks, he went mute for a whole twenty minutes. He changed out of his blacks very quickly and soon after that before showering you with gentle kisses and words of appreciation.

And now he stood there, clinging onto those few belongings like a small child. He could keep them. You wanted him to have something that belonged to him and him only.

“I-“

“I think you left some things in the bathroom too, if you wanna grab those.” You spoke softly, not even bothering to pause your movie or even glance at him.

“T- Thank you.” He stuttered out, his arrogant, nonchalant façade having faded away the night prior.

With that, he shuffled into your bathroom next, the sound of him knocking a few things over reaching your ears. Followed by a loud ‘Kriff’ before the door clicked open and closed again. That was quick.

“I’ll get going now.” He said, lifting both boxes up. With his back turned to you, you allowed yourself one glance at him.

He was wearing his favourite hoodie and a pair of black joggers. You remembered how he said they were his favourite, they allowed him to breathe easier.

The two boxes looked too large, and even though you knew he was perfectly capable of opening the door himself, you still stood up and went to aid him.

Your hand reached the doorknob just as his did, and you quickly retracted it. Your body took a screenshot, completely flinching away from him. The last thing you needed was for him to touch you, to give you a glimpse of what you loved and cherished, to take it all away and leave you wanting more.

“Sorry.” He muttered, moving away from the door to let you open it.

A soft click and a shuffle later, he was making his way out. With his back turned once more, you allowed yourself one final glance. His curly, overgrown hair was your favourite. White streaks decorated the locks throughout, starting at his root and some ending at the tips.

You loved his hair.

Your fingers itched to reach out, to ruffle and tug at it one last time.

Slowly, he placed the boxes down and turned back around.

Unlike his appearance, his gaze pierced right through you. Fox was a meticulous man. He didn’t do anything without a plan.

“Still have nothing to say to me?” He asked, half expectant, half wary.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and your grip on the doorknob tightened. He sure had a lot of attitude for being the one that broke up with you.

“Excuse me?”

“I know you’ve got something to say,” He paused, his gaze flickering down to the floor, “You always do.” He whispered that last part, almost affectionately, as he looked back up at you.

He looked tired. His eyes were droopy, and his hand twitched at his side, fighting not to drag over his face tiredly. Did he get any sleep? Why did you care? He made sure that that couldn’t be a concern of yours any longer.

“Not really, no.” You said, looking to the door.

“Oh, okay.” He replied, pursing his lips.

The air between you had become cold, and yet somehow stuffy as the two of you stared at each other. “I guess I’ll be going then.. See you around.” He said, turning his back and bending over. You watched him, glued to your spot. There was one question nagging at the back of your head, threatening to spill over the tip of your tongue.

As he took a step away, you followed, until you could stand outside of your doorway.

“Wait.”

He turned around, one eyebrow raised.

“I have a question. Only one.”

“And it’s?” He prodded. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he waited. Only you could have him feeling so desperate, so eager, to hear your voice, to listen to your line of thought and questions.

“Was… Was it ever real? Us, I mean.” You asked, hugging yourself. You finally did what you couldn’t do since last night; look into his eyes.

His irises reminded you of warm honey. Soft and sweet, sticky and dense with secrets and cultivated thoughts.

He took a long pause, his eyes searching yours.

You couldn’t rip your eyes from his, and bile rose in your throat once more as he took longer to reply. Maybe he wasn’t even sure what to say. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to answer this question. Maybe he never thought he’d have to-

“Yes. I loved you from the very beginning, and I love you now. I’ll always love you,” He paused, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed harshly, “But I can’t be with you.” Not if I want to keep you safe, he thought.

“I see.” You replied, and with a heavy heart, you half turned, propping your door open.

“Goodbye then, Commander.” You uttered, leaning your head against the doorframe.

“Goodbye, cyar’ika.”

With that, you turned on your heel and shut the door behind you.

Fox stood there for a moment, watching the wooden structure as he listened to the sound of you locking the door. Followed by a thump, as you leaned on it and slid down.

Tears pricked at his waterline, salty and unforgiving as he listened to your mellow sobs and hiccups.

Fox was a meticulous man. He never did anything simply for ‘the sake of it’. That’s why he had to do this, to keep you safe.

But he’d be back.

He would be back for you, he would keep you safe and earn your forgiveness, love and trust back.

He would be back for you, once this was all over.

[pinksiames]

bucky going feral (carnally) over buck crying when??

NO FR THERE SRENT ENOUGH CRYING FICS OF BUCKY GETTING OFF ON GALE CRYING

(The Porch scene lives rent free in my brain)

The stir in his stomach and groin was about to send him over the edge, but his eyes couldn’t peel back from the sight in front of him. Gales eyes were red rimmed and puffy, soft cheeks blotchy and wet. His bottom lip trembling between teeth as he tried to hold himself together. The little gasps and choked whimpers coming from his throat made his pants strain. He shouldn’t be getting turned on by Gale crying, he should feel guilty, ashamed that his cock twitched at the sight. But it truly was a sight. How his lashes clumped together to give him a more doll-like feature, how the skin around his eyes blushed with irritation. He could lick up the tears running down his face, he wanted to comfort him, tell him it’ll be ok. But a part of him wanted to see him break, absolutely sob against him. He wanted to feel his cries against his chest as he stumbled over his words.

“No bucky, it’s not gonna fit. It’s too big, you’re gonna split me open.”

“Oh god Bucky it hurts, please it’s too much, slow down.”

“Harder Bucky harder, fuck you feel so good, just right there please baby.”

He’d bite his tear soaked cheeks, his large hands practically touching at the fingers when he wraps them around his waist, keeping himself snug between his delicate legs. Big, blue eyes glossed over staring up at him as his own chest shook, sucking in sharp breaths and choking on his spit.

“Doing so good for me, taking me so good. You look so pretty when you cry buck. Prettier than any other girl I know. look like a little lamb, begging for the wolf not to devour you.”

He needed it. It scratched an itch in his brain he didn’t know he had. Something in him screamed to reach out and make it happen, to have Gale under him crying and sobbing because of him. His own breathing hitched, his cock pressing against his pants painfully tight. He had to resist grabbing the younger and claiming, letting his tears soak into his own skin.

He carefully slipped away, locking himself in the bathroom stall and pulling his cock out. It was purple at the head, precome leaking down his shaft. It only took a few strokes before he was spilling all over his hand, the image of distraught Gale racking his brain. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be turned on by it. But he was, and it was going to be the only thing he could think of from now on when he saw his best friend. How he conjured images of him choking on his cock and getting that same pretty wet face looking back up at him. But he couldn’t let those fantasies run wild no matter how much he wanted. How he was so close to reaching it but it was still too far to grasp.

[hadesoftheladies]

if you're a radfem (or feminist in general) chances are you're dealing with these: repressed anger and the effects of gaslighting

if you're exhausted a lot (without strenuous physical activity and lack of sleep), find yourself having outbursts of strong emotion, feeling desperate for a form of escape, fantasizing about drastic measures, anxious and "forgetful" about memories you have, nervous about speaking about your experiences . . .

here's some tricks on how i've been coping:

-boundaries. if you can cut off people (irl or online) that cause you to spiral into hate, frustration, anger at their ignorance/malice, do it. even if it's a musician whose one song you like. or your brother or dad. limit time as much as possible with them. the less access they have, the less relevant they become, the more energy you conserve.

-do art! create something, it doesn't matter what it is. express those emotions! make sure you're doing it in a judgement-free zone. it's important you don't become a critic at this time. do messy, honest art (sometimes i write short scenes of gay/lesbian characters to cope with the homophobia in my life, and it makes me feel MUCH better and less cynical, sometimes you need to create beauty to remember it exists in the world)

-get out! get out into nature, if you can. if you can't immerse yourself in some form of it. try watching a potted plant for a while or watch insects. take interest in the mundane aspects of life. see that leaf curl? that ant? you're part of that. when you see the clouds, remember they are part of the cycle. the earth grows into its beauty as you do. the moon is the sky's cycle tracker. you belong to this world. you belong in it. this is your home. revel in it.

-if you can, and if you want to, hang out with animals. animals are great companions with none of the misogyny, internalized or otherwise! they don't mind if you cry, either. seriously, if you need non-draining, non-complicated companionship, animals are a good option. it's also good to remember you're a simple animal sometimes, with simple needs. sometimes all you need is a nice belly rub and a little treat.

-cultivate female friendships where it's safe to rant and also not all about ranting. your friendships should be a comfort, not a chore. you need irl community. if you can access it at this time, if you can find a way to cultivate it, please do. it may save you

-it is okay to enoy things despite the evil in the world. you don't have to be an activist 24/7. go watch your favorite movie. listen to your favorite comedian. and let down your guard while you're enjoying that little something. it's important you don't fall into analyzing things.

-for the gaslighting, start having conversations where you make it explicitly clear that you want the other party to ONLY listen. also, JOURNAL, even if it's just a paragraph or two sentences. write down the small important facts of your day. you'll either build a more reliable memory or come to see how reliable your memory is. just don't hang out with people that are constantly testing you. that is not an environment where you develop healthy trust in yourself.

-fight back! these are some ways to heal from the bruising of the world, but honestly? you need to acknowledge how RIGHT and GOOD your anger is. and one of the best ways to do that is to fight back! do something that addresses part of the injustice your heart is screaming about. it doesn't have to be big, it just needs to help someone and address the situation. address the alarms in your brain telling you something isn't right and you have to do something about it. scratch that itch! do that something. you will feel really good

please feel free to add any other tips you guys may have for cultivating joy, hope and energy, because we don't have to be miserable while/for doing the right thing

[suguren]

soft as a feather

WRD #; 836

CONTENT; tododeku, fluff!!

A/N; ermm hi first fic post, its reallyyu not JUST my fic but my gfs too, we wrote this on frantic fanfic together and i wanted to post it yayyy ^_^ gf blog @powasa go follow him anyway enjoy

A feather fell from the sky, falling off of a bird's wings that flew over Deku and Todoroki as they walked outside of UA.

"Achoo!"

Todoroki Sneezed. It was spring in Musutafu, Japan. Unfortunately this was his least favorite time because of his major feather allergies. His eyes became teary and his nose now runny quickly after.

"Ah- you okay Todo? You look like you're crying." Deku said with such a soft care in his eyes, making sure his boyfriend was okay. 

"Yeah just allergies." 

This made Todoroki blush, looking in the opposite direction of him, avoiding his eyes. All forms of affection made Todoroki shy away, he's never known something so soft until he had met Deku, and he has yet to get used to it. 

Feathers are his weakness, much like Midoriya, they are both soft. 

They've been together for almost a year now, but he still gets nervous. At every hand hold, every peck on the cheek, and especially the beaming smile that radiates off of Midoriya's face is too much for him to handle.

Concern was etched on Midoriya's face, he stared at Shoto's face, his eyes analyzing his boyfriend's face. This only made Todoroki blush even more, he was so close he could smell Izuku's shampoo. "I-I'm fine really, don't worry Midoriya." 

Todoroki avoided his gaze, completely pursed his lips, he felt another sneeze itching his nostrils but he didn't want to gross out his boyfriend by sneezing in his face. But the poor oblivious Izuku was too worried about his boyfriend getting sick, noticing his face flaring red. He grabbed Shoto's face with both of his hands to get a better look at it. 

"You're burning up! Are you sure you're not catching something? Woah what's wrong with your face?!" 

Shoto's eyes were puffy and squeezed shut, his eyebrows furrowed and he kept his lips in a thin line. This damned sneeze, he's trying so hard to keep it in but the longer he holds it the harder it gets. He shook his head away from Izuku's grasp and sneezed into his arm, his nose running completely down his face, and unfortunately some getting into his elbow. He cursed his stupid allergies internally, he's making a fool out of himself in front of Midoriya of all people. 

Midoriya jumped back at the sneeze, it was loud and abrupt, and even worse Todoroki was sick.

"Sorry... Allergies." His face was even hotter than before, who knew that was even possible.

"I was trying not to snee-" He began, hoping to redeem himself from the embarrassing stunt he has just pulled.

Deku cutting Todoroki off, started wiping his nose with a tissue he had retrieved from his bag. 

"Shhh, don't speak anymore!" Deku cupped Todoroki's face in his hand.

"Look you really are sick, you're burning up and your face is all red!" 

Todoroki was losing it, the close contact was almost too much and he swore if this continued on for any longer his brain was gonna turn to mush and he was gonna melt in Midoriya's hands.

"We have to go back to the dorms now or else you're only gonna get worse and I can't let that happen! You're an important part of our class, and if a Villain were to strike right now we need you more than anyone. I need you more than anyone Shoto!"

It was typical of Midoriya to go on short rants about how important Todoroki was, and Todoroki found it adorable, but right now was not the time, he could hear the cogs in his brain slowing down from all the affection. 

Deku grabbed Todoroki's hands in his and began leading him to the dorm rooms. He was hyper aware of the hand holding, causing his heart to race.

"It's just allergies..." Todoroki muttered, mere words being a challenge to get out.

"So we will fix your allergies!" Midoriya looked at him firmly, with such passion in his eyes making Todoroki giggle.

"Hey what's so funny? This is serious Todoroki!" Deku said with a pout.

"You're treating this like a mission."

"Taking care of you is a mission!"

Todoroki stared at his lover sincerely, he always admired Midoriya's stubbornness, in fact he admired everything about his boyfriend. His optimism, the way he was so considerate for others and especially the way he never let anything or anyone get in his way of his ambitions. 

"You're so cute." The words slipped out of Shoto's lips before he could think them over, making Midoriya stop in his tracks and his brain going blank at his words. Now he was the one blushing from ear to ear. Shoto grinned softly and decided to tease his boyfriend a little. 

"It looks like I'm contagious, now you're burning up." Midoriya babbled and stumbled over his words, trying to process the words that were being sent his way. This only made Todoroki chuckle even more, he grabbed his boyfriend's face and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. 

"Calm down..." Midoriya mumbled an apology and took a deep breath, regaining his thoughts and focusing on his "mission". He grabbed Shoto's hand and dragged him toward the dorms in a hurry. 

"Come on, standing out here isn't gonna make you any better." Shoto smiled softly and followed closely behind him.