#there was a lull in patrol that night

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

Cursed image of local cryptid found 3am at a Bat Burger

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

For your 900 followers celebration!!

“I’ll always choose you”

Jason Todd has never been anyone's first pick. He knows that. He's second, third, eighth best.

He doesn't get second glances, he doesn't get what he wants, and he doesn't get to be anyone's first thought. He's not anyone's go-to person. He understands that, accepts that.

But, deep down, in a place he doesn't want to ever want to unpack, he wishes you would.

You. He knows he has it bad for you. Pretty eyes, even prettier smiles. He's head over heels, a complete mess with no direction, and no idea what to do about it.

He'll endure the teasing he gets when he stares at you too long. He'll ignore the doubts that creep into his mind that you'd hate him if you knew how his heart stutters at the sight of you. He'll deal with it all if he can just spend another second listening to you laugh.

He thinks you have at least a vague idea of how he feels. You must pity him, because you seem happy to patrol with him. You sit yourself next to him on the couch more often than not during movie nights. You call him when life keeps him too busy from visiting.

It lulls him into a false sense of security, that even with how broken he is, you still want to stick around. It makes him a little greedy, a little selfish, to have more of your attention.

But you give it to him. Without question, without asking for anything in return.

You text him more, invite him to your apartment. He finds himself more and more entwined in your life, and it's more than he ever thought he'd deserve.

He's sitting in your kitchen one night, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice as he tells you what he's planning to cook for dinner. It's a new recipe. One he thinks you'll like.

But then you get a call. He deflates a little when he hears your friend inviting you out. He tries to keep the smile on his face. It's fine if you go. The leftovers he leaves might not be as good as they are fresh, and it might not taste as good without you, but he's not going to hold it against you.

He swallows the knot in his throat when you hang up the call, head spinning with so many thoughts he missed the tail end of your conversation, "So, ah, rain check for dinner then?"

You look a little surprised, "No? We're hanging out tonight, aren't we?"

"I mean, yeah," he says, cursing himself for stammering, "but, if ya wanted to go out, I wouldn't blame ya."

"I don't," You say easily, "I wanna stay here with you."

His gaze flicks over your face, trying to pick out the truth of your words, "You do?"

"Yeah. I'll always choose you, Jason," you tell him softly, like you don't realize you're knocking his entire world off center, "I like being around you."

He can't fight the wide, cheesy grin that spreads across his face, and he quickly turns to mess with the ingredients on the counter to hide, "Oh. Cool. Yeah. Me too."

You giggle a little, and his face heats up at the sound. He forces out more words, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart, "So, uh, dinner?"

"Dinner," you echo, voice happy and light. It makes him think he might have had this all wrong. That, there's a chance, he really is your person.

The thought sticks with him all the way through dinner. And when you smile like you want to be here, when you ask him for seconds, he almost starts to think it's true.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Please Come Home

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.

Word count: 3.3k

TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults

Your spare key is missing.

Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?

When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.

When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?

You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?

Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.

At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.

You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.

In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?

I think I lost it.

I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?

Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.

I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.

I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you

I love you, too.

A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.

That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.

You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.

It lulls you into a false sense of security.

You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.

With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.

You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.

The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.

Your phone isn’t on the counter.

You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.

Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?

It’s not.

You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.

Still no response from Jason.

You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.

The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.

The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.

And now they’re gone.

Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?

He doesn’t respond right away.

Jay, this isn’t funny.

Still nothing.

Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.

Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.

You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.

You go straight to voicemail.

You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”

His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.

You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.

You chew on your thumbnail.

Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.

He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?

You call Jason again.

Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.

Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.

No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.

Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.

Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.

Empty.

You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.

There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.

You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.

Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.

You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”

“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”

“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”

“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”

A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.

You scream.

Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.

He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…

Right into a stranger’s chest.

There are two of them?

An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”

You stab him in the stomach.

Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.

“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.

The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”

“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.

“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”

Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.

Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.

The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.

Where is Jason?

You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.

The man’s ugly face explodes.

You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.

More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?

It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.

Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.

Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.

Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.

You know those gloves.

Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.

Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.

You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.

You wipe it away.

Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.

You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.

Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.

You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.

Oh, God. Your best friend.

You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.

Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.

She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.

Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.

“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.

“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”

“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”

"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.

He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."

"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."

You nod numbly.

Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet��he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.

He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"

As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.

Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.

They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.

He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"

You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.

"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."

"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.

Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."

You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.

When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"

As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.

True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.

You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.

"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.

He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.

When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."

"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."

"I could feel that something was wrong."

Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"

"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."

Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.

Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."

Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.

Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.

You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.

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[biblio-smia]

all these pictures of you

tasm! peter parker x reader

summary: the amount of photos peter has of you versus him is a problem you've taken upon yourself to fix

masterlist | requests are open! buy me a ko-fi!

a lazy sunday. a much needed one, considering the bruises peter had collected the night before.

damp air begins creeping out from under the bathroom door just as peter begins washing his hair - you can tell from the familiar crash of the shampoo bottle he always drops.

you fight the feeling of heavy eyes stubbornly, the sound of peter's shower threatening to lull you to sleep without him - only disrupted by the piercing ringing coming from peter's side of the bed.

it takes a while to track the noise of an alarm peter probably forgot to turn off in the mess of duvets, your fingers tapping the screen frantically once you find peter's phone.

there's only one big crack on his screen this time - peter's gotten better at taking care of his phones ever since he started calling you while out on patrol.

your own phone is elsewhere, either left behind in another room or out of battery and you need something to keep you awake until peter gets back. he should be almost done by now but each second feels like an eternity with such soft pillows under your head.

peter's password is muscle memory - if he could get your face to unlock his phone he would. instinct pulls you to the camera app to snap a few stupid photos but curiosity leads you to the contents of the rest of peter's gallery.

it's you, unsurprisingly. other than a few stray screenshots and some beautiful nature shots, it's you. you with a drink in your hand, you watching something on your phone, you with your back turned to peter.

dozens upon dozens, multiple scrolls worth of pictures of you - all of them probably the best anyone's been able to capture of you.

peter takes every picture of you with care - you're not sure there's a single photo where even the lighting looks off. even photos taken in five seconds tops were better work than you could've ever done.

you try to remember how many photos like these you have of peter. there's no shortage of photos of him on your phone but you're pretty positive the closest thing you've ever gotten is the photo currently on your lock screen - peter winking at you through a tall glass.

the bathroom door opens with a creak and peter sighs happily as he pads out of the bathroom, freshly washed and dried hair falling over his forehead even as he tried to push it away.

he's barely out a few seconds before he's jumped into bed with a groan muffled by the thick covers. it's not long before his face appears next to yours, sporting a cozy smile that makes your insides warm.

"watcha looking at?" peter hums, settling against his pillows and attempting to pull you into his arms.

he's surprised at your resistance, questions in his raised eyebrows as you only hum a response and lift yourself to hover over him.

you hoist yourself up and back up, aiming peter's camera carefully.

"what're you doing?" peter laughs, instinctively covering his face.

"shhh," you whisper, pulling peter's hand off carefully. you're really not sure how he does it but you do manage to get some photos of peter with a half-decent composition - though you'd argue that his face makes up for your lack of precision.

you let yourself lean into peter now, back to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around you as you analyze your new pictures. peter is greedy, nudging his nose into your skin right above where he kisses it.

"what's this about, hmm?" peter hums against your skin.

"nothing," you mumble, sending yourself all the photos. "you're just pretty."

peter's quiet, unusually so. his hand comes up from your waist to take his phone back and set it on his nightstand, arms coming to turn you towards him.

he's careful with you, hands holding your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks.

"come on, how can i not kiss you for that one?”

[midnightorchids]

Jason likes to read after patrol every night.

He has a routine, he’ll strip his gear, kiss your forehead, shower and have a quick bite to eat. Then, he’ll make a steaming cup of valerian tea and get into bed with you, with his current read in hand.

Most nights, Jason reads to himself, quiet and tucked into his side of the bed, careful not to wake you with any sudden movements.

He’ll read until his eyelids feel heavy, until his fingers become weak, unable to carry the weight of the book. Jason reads until his mind no longer registers the words on the yellowing pages of the old paperback.

When exhaustion slowly takes over his body, he’ll delicately place his bookmark into the novel. He’ll put it to the side and then snuggle further into the sheets with you.

Jason will pull your sleeping figure close to his, unable to stay away and his hands will make their way around your body. He’ll gently whisper sweet nothings into your ear, well aware that you cannot hear him. Then, he’ll let his sleep wash over him.

But there are some nights when Jason reads to you.

On nights where you struggle to find sleep, you stay up until he makes his way home from patrol. He’ll do his routine as if he’s on autopilot, almost robotic. Kiss, shower, eat and then into the bed with you and his book.

This time though, he’ll read out loud to you. His voice husky and laced with fatigue, lulling you to sleep. Your head lies against his bare chest and his fingers trace comforting shapes on your skin underneath your shirt.

Once he finds you dozing off, Jason will softly peck your forehead and continue to read to himself, until sleep finds him and takes over his body.

[sunsburns]

not you too

pairing: jason todd x ex vigilante!reader

summary: for the first time in a long time, you're hurting, deeply. an old wound that's reopened, the knife that was once there finding its place back between your ribs. jason todd comes to you in the middle of the night, bleeding all over your floor, rubbing salt to an old wound.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, angst, the good old cleaning the other's wounds after a rough patrol but this one has a little bit of plot and spice to it ngl.

based off of this request

You always try to keep your nights as simple as possible. Working under Commissioner Jim Gordon had its perks, but peace of mind wasn’t one of them. Between juggling case files, analyzing crime scenes, and trying to stay ahead of Gotham’s ever-growing list of threats, your days were more than chaotic.

Gordon, a mentor as much as a boss, trusted you with sensitive information that only a few had access to—and you took that responsibility seriously. What he didn’t know was how deep your connection to Gotham’s vigilantes truly ran.

While Gordon believed in the power of the law, you knew sometimes it wasn’t enough. That’s where Batman came in. Your dual role—an officer of the GCPD by day, and a secret informant for Batman by night—had become second nature. You fed him intel and helped him stay ahead of Gotham’s worst, all while maintaining the facade of loyalty to the department.

You weren't proud about it, but he gave you enough hush money that you don't question it whenever he appears by the office as you leave your later shifts.

Friday nights were your escape. After a week of handling reports, dissecting evidence, and sidestepping questions from Gordon about your mysterious late-night absences, you let yourself disconnect. You skipped the gym after work, came home early, and cooked yourself a proper dinner. By the time the sun set, you were showered, dressed in your comfiest pyjamas, and settled on the couch with a movie.

Tonight was no different. You’d just closed a case with Gordon’s team, a robbery ring, criminals now behind bars, but Gotham never truly rested. Tomorrow would bring another wave of crime, another set of challenges. Still, for now, you had this moment of peace.

The movie droned on in the background as you finished dinner, exhaustion from the week creeping in. Your eyes fluttered shut halfway through, the comfort of your quiet apartment lulling you to sleep. By the time the credits rolled, you were completely out, wrapped in the safety of your little corner of the world.

That is until a faint creak from your window broke the silence.

You stirred groggily, blinking at the clock. It was well past midnight. Gotham was still alive outside—sirens in the distance, the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing by—but your apartment had fallen into stillness. You stretched, ready to drag yourself to bed, but something wasn’t right.

The creak came again. Your blood ran cold.

Someone was in your apartment.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The faint sound of creaking had stopped, leaving an eerie silence behind, but there—a shadow moved. Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you reached blindly for something, anything to defend yourself. The remote was the closest thing at hand. You gripped it tightly, feeling foolish but unwilling to let go, and scrambled to stand.

In the faint glow from the streetlight filtering through the curtains, you finally saw him—a large figure by the balcony door, hunched over, struggling to quietly close the glass behind him. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to be noticed. But you had already seen enough.

The silhouette was unmistakable.

“Jason.”

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of his name, freezing in place for a second before turning to face you. Even in the darkness, you could feel the weight of his gaze through the red-tinted visor of his helmet, his expression unreadable beneath it.

You lowered the remote slowly, heart still racing, but now for a different reason. “You can’t—you can’t just break in like this,” you stammered, your voice tinged with frustration and worry. You’d seen him do this too many times, yet it never got easier.

He let out a gruff, annoyed sound beneath the helmet, shoulders sagging as he took a step closer. “Not like you were gonna answer the door.” His voice was rough, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss.

Your irritation flared, but then you noticed something—a slight tremor in the way he moved. His steps were sluggish, almost hesitant, and he favoured his right side, trying to mask it.

He wasn’t just annoyed.

He was hurt.

As he stepped out of the shadow, the dim lamp light caught the outline of his armour. That’s when you noticed it—dark stains creeping across the front of his suit, and the way his hand pressed against his side, the faint sound of a pained breath slipping past his otherwise guarded posture.

“You’re bleeding,” you muttered, the frustration quickly giving way to concern. He didn’t respond, his gaze avoiding yours as he leaned back against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with being here. Jason never wanted anyone to see him like this—least of all you.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he grumbled, the words tinged with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “Go to bed. I’ll be out in a minute. Just needed some stuff. Still got that first aid kit?”

You shook your head, taking a cautious step closer, your heart sinking at the sight of him in pain. “Jason, you can’t just—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off sharply, pushing himself off the wall, wincing as the movement aggravated his wound. His stance was defensive like he was already preparing to run before you could offer to help.

But the moment his knees buckled slightly, the tough exterior he was trying to maintain cracked. You could see it in the way his breath hitched, the way he clutched at his side like he was barely holding it together.

He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. He was here because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Jason pulled the mask off his head, his breath coming in sharp gasps as if the helmet had been suffocating him. He tossed it carelessly onto your dining table before glancing at you, his expression tight. “You got it or not?”

His voice startled you into action. “Uh—yeah, I’ve got it.” You scrambled down the hall toward the bathroom, hands shaking as you rifled through the drawers for the first aid kit. His footsteps echoed faintly in your living room, boots heavy against the hardwood. Now that he’d been caught, his presence filled the space in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. No matter how many times you’d imagined running into Jason again, it was never like this. In your daydreams, you hoped you’d bump into him on the street, or maybe during work.

There were even moments where you’d foolishly fantasized about seeing him at Wayne Manor, handing over files to Bruce as a favour, only to lock eyes with Jason from across the room. But this? Jason bleeding out on your floor, breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night? This wasn’t what you wanted.

When you returned to the living room, he had already shed his jacket, revealing a deep gash along his side. It was messy, and the blood soaked into the fabric of his suit, leaving dark stains that made your stomach drop.

He’d settled into something uncomfortably familiar—boots kicked off by the door, sitting against the wall like old times, but this time he kept his distance, his body tense.

He didn’t want to be here.

You hesitated as you approached, the kit in your hand. “Jason, let me—”

“I’ve got it.” His voice was sharp, cutting you off as he took the first aid kit from your hands without so much as a glance. His glare kept you at arm’s length, and it hurt. The way he shut you out, even when he was barely holding himself together.

He didn’t trust anyone—not entirely.

Not after everything.

Still, seeing him like this made something twist in your chest. Bleeding and worn down, but too stubborn to ask for help. There was a heaviness in the air, lingering in the silence that stretched between you both. It wasn’t just about tonight—it was everything that had been left unresolved before, all the words that had gone unsaid the last time you’d seen each other. But now, with Jason sitting right in front of you, neither of you dared to speak.

You crouched a few feet away, sitting on the floor across from him, watching as he tried to clean the wound himself. His hand shook slightly, though he tried to hide it, his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth against the pain. It was bad—worse than he was letting on.

“Jason, stop,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I don’t need your help,” he bit out, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’ve done this a thousand times.”

He huffed, annoyed, but when he tried to move again, his breath hitched—pain breaking through the cracks of his tough exterior. His hand slipped, and the antiseptic bottle nearly fell from his grip. You didn’t wait for his permission this time. You slid over, taking the kit from his hand.

“Just let me do it,” you murmured, your voice firmer now.

Jason didn’t argue this time, though his jaw was still set in that stubborn way you knew all too well. You could feel the heat branching off him as you gently touched his arm to move it out of the way and clean the wound. His whole body stiffened at the contact like he wasn’t used to being taken care of—or maybe he just didn’t want it.

His eyes shifted to the far wall, jaw clenched even tighter, refusing to meet your gaze, but you caught the way his breath hitched ever so slightly when your hands moved over his skin.

He wasn’t saying anything, but his body told you enough. Every time your fingers brushed a sensitive spot or when the antiseptic stung, his lips pressed into a thinner line. He didn’t flinch exactly, but his posture—rigid, unmoving—betrayed how uncomfortable he was.

You weren’t sure what was harder for him: the wound or the fact that he was letting you help. His pride had always been a barrier, a wall he rarely let anyone get through. Yet here he was, in your apartment, wounded and unwilling to admit just how much he needed you.

As Jason shifted slightly, wincing, you took the moment to observe him. It had been a while since you last saw him, and for a second, you searched for something—anything—that might’ve changed. But he was still Jason. Still, the same stubborn man who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Even that white strand of hair was right where it had always been. He looked older somehow, but not in the way time ages people. It was something deeper, worn into him from the life he led.

And then his eyes flicked up, catching you watching him. For a brief moment, neither of you moved. His gaze softened, just barely, before the guarded look returned as quickly as it had slipped away.

He shifted again, his body tense, and glanced around your apartment—anything to avoid looking directly at you. His gaze lingered on your desk, the files from your latest case scattered across it, and his expression darkened. You could see it in his eyes—a mix of suspicion and something else.

“You’ve been busy,” he muttered, his tone gruff, though the edge in his voice told you there was more to it than a simple observation.

You didn’t look up, keeping your hands steady as you applied pressure to the wound. “You know how it is.”

Jason’s jaw twitched. “Yeah,” he said, his tone sharp. “I know how it is.”

It was a jab, even if it was subtle. You could feel the accusation hanging between the lines of his words. He wasn't just talking about your busy schedule—he was digging at the gap between you two, at all the things neither of you had addressed. Your loyalty to Batman. Your work with Gordon.

A little fucking traitor to everything Jason worked for.

You sighed, pressing a little harder than necessary to make a point. “You’re not here for that, Jason.”

He winced, and you almost felt bad. Almost. But the look in his eyes—calculated, like he was searching for the truth behind every move you made—made your chest tighten. His silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?” His voice was softer now, but there was a bitterness to it. He knew you weren’t stupid. He wasn’t here by choice, and you both knew it. You wanted to ask, but what was the point? Jason never came to you for help, never came to anyone unless he had no other option.

“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” you replied quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. His presence in your home felt heavier than the blood on your hands.

He scoffed, shifting to take the bandage from your hand. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, hovering just above his skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a reminder of just how close you were to crossing a line neither of you dared to acknowledge. He was still the same Jason, still stubborn as hell, but the space between you felt like it had grown into a chasm. One you weren't sure either of you could cross without everything falling apart.

“Why are you really here, Jason?” you asked, giving in. He was a wanted man, or at least Red Hood was. If you were up to it, you could have him arrested within seconds.

His eyes snapped up, the guarded expression faltering for a moment before his usual defiance returned. “It’s not like I had a lot of options,” he admitted, though the words felt forced like he was offering you an excuse instead of the truth.

“I thought you always had a plan,” you said, words sharper than you intended. “Or is that just another thing you’ve changed your mind about?”

He flinched, and for a second, you regretted saying it. But the hurt between you two had been simmering for too long. His loyalty was always a wild card, and yours? Well, Jason had never forgiven you for staying close to the people he had walked away from.

Jason’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. “The Bat keeping you on a tight leash?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is it Gordon now?”

You stiffened, the accusation hitting home more than you liked. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, knowing it sounded weak but unwilling to offer more. It was always the same with Jason—he pushed, prodded, and pulled at the places you tried to protect.

“Yeah, right. Because we both know where your loyalties lie,” Jason snapped, his tone harsher now. His eyes bore into you like he was searching for something—anything—that would confirm his suspicions. That you’d chosen Batman over him. That you were still working with the people who had crossed him.

“I didn’t betray you,” you said quietly, though even as you said it, the words felt hollow. You didn’t know if you believed them anymore.

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. There was too much between you, too many things left unsaid, and no amount of stitching his wounds would ever fix that. He was right, in a way. You hadn’t chosen him—not when it counted.

Not when he needed you. And for what? For comfort? A little bit of safety? An alliance with Batman? A raise at work? The questions ran through your mind like jagged edges. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of you had ever really said the things that needed to be said back then, too busy trying to fix things that did not need fixing.

His breathing had become more laboured as you worked, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The wound you were treating was deep, and too close to critical areas for comfort.

Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling into fists as if he was fighting the pain, refusing to show just how much it hurt. But you could see it in the way his body trembled under your touch—he was reaching his limit.

“Let me finish,” you said, your tone softer, more insistent. "Stop fighting me."

For once, he didn’t argue. His jaw unclenched, his shoulders slackened slightly, and his eyes—usually so guarded—softened just enough to show how exhausted he really was. Physically, emotionally, all of it. He wasn’t invincible, and tonight, that truth was catching up with him faster than he could hide.

You moved closer, hands brushing against his skin as you worked quickly, trying to keep your focus. His skin was warm, slick with sweat and blood, and the faintest tremor ran through his frame as your fingers traced the edge of the wound. But the closeness was unnerving—both of you acutely aware of each other in a way that made the room feel smaller.

You caught his eyes as you reached for more gauze, and for a split second, neither of you looked away. His gaze burned into you, full of unspoken questions, of things he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say. And for the first time, you wondered if you weren’t the only one who had felt betrayed.

But you’d both been wrong. You could see it now, in the way his eyes darkened with unsaid accusations, in the way your heart ached with unresolved regret. You thought you were protecting him by walking away—by choosing the safer path, Batman’s path. And Jason, with all his reckless defiance, had been too far gone in his need for vengeance to understand why you couldn’t follow him down that road.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

Your fingers stilled, hovering just above his chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you.

"I never asked you to trust me," you whispered, the words hanging precariously on the line between honesty and regret.

But the truth was, you wanted him to. More than anything.

Jason’s lips tightened into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might push you away. His muscles tensed beneath your touch as if bracing himself for another fight. His hand twitched, lifting halfway like he was going to shove you back, but he stopped.

The strain was written all over his face now, and you could see his breathing growing more ragged. His eyes were slipping out of focus, and you noticed the faint green glow flickering at the edges of his irises—Lazarus. It was always there, a reminder of how far he’d gone, how close to the edge he still was.

“Jason…” you said quietly, watching the pain ripple through him. He was losing consciousness, slipping into the darkness despite his stubborn refusal to admit it. His hand finally dropped, brushing against your arm before it hit the floor, the strength leaving him in waves.

“Just… get it over with,” he rasped, his voice cracking.

You pressed the final bandage into place, your hands gentle now, more careful. For a moment, you let your fingers linger, brushing against the rough skin of his shoulder as you finished. His breathing was shallow, but steady, his eyes fluttering shut. The tension drained from his body as the exhaustion finally won, leaving him vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen in a while.

It reminded you of when he used to sleep beside you. Jason had always been restless, even in sleep, twisting in the sheets, his mind never fully at ease. But there had been nights when he would finally relax, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, his head resting against your chest like he found his peace there, with you. You remembered how you’d stroke that same shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin as you whispered for him to rest, that you were there, watching over him.

And yet, here you were, caring for him again.

He stirred slightly, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he adjusted, trying to find a position that eased the pain. His face softened with the kind of weariness that came from more than just the physical strain. You watched his chest rise and fall, the quiet sound of his breath mingling with the hum of the city outside.

Jason’s hand twitched again, brushing against your knee, his fingers grazing your skin with a familiar yet distant touch. It made your heartache.

There was a time when you would’ve done anything to keep him safe, to protect him from the world—and from himself. But now, all you could do was sit there, hands still resting against his skin, wondering if either of you could ever come back from this.

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

☠ Master List Link

Warnings; some mild descriptions of fighting/being in pain, brief mentions of blood, cursing, praise/reader is called a good girl, oral sex, mating press

☠ Everyone involved is 18+/aged up

It’s boiling.

Fucking sweltering.

Your eyes snap open, the stifling heat stirring you into a reluctant form of consciousness. As you glance down you’re met with a face full of damp red hair that could only belong to your boyfriend Eijirou.

Who apparently has taken it upon himself to use your shoulder as a pillow.

The man is a goddamn furnace.

Of course, you’re privy as to why he’s so feverish. It’s the same burning itch that lurks just below the surface of your own skin. This past week you’ve been counting down the days until the full moon — and there’s only one left.

Plus, it’s only Eijirou’s third time dealing with his shift, so his control over his body is shaky at best. Katsuki being the pack leader, has much more experience and insight dealing with the shift than you, which is why you’ve all made sure he’ll be home tomorrow night to ensure it goes smoothly.

Groaning, you unstick yourself from the entirely too sweaty body clinging to you, nose scrunching in discomfort as you unwind the hefty weight of Eijirou’s arm from your waist and untangle your legs.

You shove at Eijirou’s shoulder, mumbling for him to get his heavy ass off, but man doesn’t stir. He softly sighs and turns over to face the wall. Your limbs are sluggish with sleep as you push up onto your elbows, then up until you’re sitting on your butt. You kick off the suffocating covers and lean backwards onto the headboard in hopes for better airflow to cool off.

It would be unbelievably helpful to have Todoroki’s quirk right now.

You decide to study the room to distract yourself, admiring the way the moonlight has bled in. It playfully illuminates certain shapes as you bask in the peaceful stillness of the night. It’s a good thing the darkness doesn’t hinder you either way, seeing as your eyesight is just as sharp in the night.

What with your…..condition.

Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead your thoughts trail to Katsuki, curious as to how his patrol is fairing. You lean over and tap the screen of your phone where it rests on your side table. The light from the screen is on the edge of blinding, making you wince and partially shield your eyes.

Why the fuck do I keep it so bright?

You fumble to put it in dark mode, reading the last vague and aggressive message Katsuki sent.

Katsuki 🧡

“I’d rather chew off my own motherfucking arm than be on patrol with icy hot right now.”

A startled bark of laughter pushes past your lips. Eijirou shifts restlessly behind you, but you pay him no mind. He tosses and turns frequently in his sleep this close to shifting.

You read over the text again, knowing Katsuki doesn’t mean that. He and Todoroki are fairly decent friends these days, much to Katsuki vehement denial. It takes not time at all for you type out a reply.

After setting your phone down and scooting underneath the blankets, you promptly flop onto your back in an attempt to get comfortable. You debate whether or not to cuddle up to Eijirou, but decide against it. Waking up drenched in sweat does not appeal to you.

As you start to drift off, the rhythmic lull of crickets outside your window helps your mind quiet once again. Your lids start drooping as your breathing begins to even out.

Crack.

You blink a few times in rapid succession, instantly on guard. You stay completely still, ears twitching and listening for the familiar sound.

Crack.

A blistering chill rushes through your blood as you recognize the unwanted tell tale sound of bones breaking.

Crack. Snap!

Your pulse jackrabbits so violently your heart may bruise your rib cage.

Please for the love of God don’t let this be what I think it is. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night!

Eijirou suddenly cries out. A keening, wounded noise that’s wrenched from the pits of his chest.

Before you can register it, you’re sitting up straight, spine stiffening as you turn and watch Eijirou with mounting horror.

It’s not unlike witnessing twin snakes slithering, shifting urgently as Eijirou’s own spine breaks and rearranges for a body that’s far less human.

“Ei,” you whisper frantically, by his side in an instant. Your chest squeezes, adrenaline forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end. You shake his shoulder roughly, brushing the hair that’s sticking to his forehead away with your free hand. “Eijirou.”

He whines a jumbled version of your name before going stock still and you freeze alongside him, hyper aware of your shuddering exhales. A sickening dread settles over you, stomach dropping as you listen to Eijirou’s newly forming claws rip and shred the sheet next to him.

A low rumble starts up in his chest, slowly clawing its way up to emanate from his throat. Your stomach knots up realizing it’s too late for you to help him keep even a sliver of coherence through this.

Your fingers unwillingly twitch where they’re tangled in Eijirou’s hair. His growl intensifies, a stiff warning embedded in it. Your hands shake as you carefully shift your gaze down to his side profile, catching the untamed fury twisting his features.

It’s abhorrent and unnatural the way it replaces his normal cheerfulness.

The sudden fierce instinctive urge to fight Eijirou knocks around inside your mind so roughly you get lightheaded. Eijirou’s already side eyeing you menacingly, his iris glowing a pale yellow rather than the cherry red it usually is.

There’s a few seconds of silence, tension suffocating as you weigh your only two options.

Fight or flight?

With no hesitation, you lunge towards the side table closest to you and barely manage to grab your phone as you start launching to your feet to get away.

Eijirou’s claws sink in brutally, taking a decent chunk from your outer thigh as you skirt out of his deadly range. The explosive searing sensation of your flesh ripping wrenches all the air from your lungs, crimson spraying all over the otherwise pristine sheets as you stagger upright to your feet.

You whip around with a snarl that bounces off your bedroom walls, fury making your entire body flash white hot. The instinctual pulse to return the favor and give Eijirou a nasty scar is all consuming and you know your own eyes are flashing yellow.

Eijirou leaps towards you without missing a beat and you all but sprint through the door, slamming it shut and twisting the lock right as the redhead rams into it.

It locks from the outside for a reason.

You stumble forward, struggling to ignore the borderline unbearable pain lancing through your leg and place a hand on the couch to steady yourself. Your mind races, warm liquid trailing from your wound down your leg and pooling between your toes. You want to gag.

You can’t fucking think straight.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you take a singular fortifying breath as you clench your phone in a fist. The sides start to give and it reminds you not to obliterate the thing, as well as why you snagged it in the first place — to text Katsuki so you have a chance in hell of coming out this night alive.

With trembling hands you text the blonde a short yet urgent message.

Eijirou is shifting. 911. Hurry.

A deafening bang makes you jump a foot into the air, nails automatically sharpening into points. You chance a peak at the door, fear prickling at the base of your skull as the behemoth on the other side splinters it down the middle.

You briefly recall when Eijirou turned 21, shifting for the first time. It was only a mere three months ago. He was the last one out of the three of you to do so, but he wasn’t as violent as he is now.

It was messy and there were a lot of tears, but you’d trade this scenario for that one in a heartbeat. Shifting is always erratic in the beginning, but you were sure Eijirou would be the more laid back type.

Apparently not.

You shake your head to clear the unhelpful memories when Eijirou’s frustrated howl cuts through them. You glance at the front door with a scowl deciding you can’t very well go outside and take a half shifted, out of control werewolf into the neighborhood.

You’re not even wearing any damn pants.

You veto the forest as an option as well. Mainly because Katsuki will inevitably find you and Eijirou torn to pieces before the sun rises.

Steeling your resolve, you submit to the fact that you’ll have to put up as much of a fight against Eijirou as you’re able to until Katsuki saves you.

The deep gashes in your thigh scream in protest when you shuffle behind the coffee table, placing the couch and it between you and the door. You preemptively mourn the loss of your phone and toss it aside, bracing yourself in a defensive stance.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Any second now.

The door is on its last legs.

One more heave and it splits entirely, debris flying in all directions. Eijirou forces his body through the opening, face distorted, half shifted with claws and fangs to match.

He snarls furiously when his gaze lands on your defensive form. You return the sentiment, making him aware you’re challenging him.

The icy sensation of fear continues to rush through your limbs, mixing dangerously with a barely suppressed fury that you’re unable to ignore.

You curse any and everything known to mankind and pray you’re able to keep him contained until Katsuki arrives. You bite the bullet and take a running start towards Eijirou, sidestepping the coffee table. You’re hell bent on getting the first punch in.

His reflexes mirror yours.

He uses the backrest of the couch to jump and propel himself at you like a shot and the collision is excruciating. One of your ribs has cracked from the force — you’re sure of it.

Eijirou’s got enough weight on you that the impact sends you both careening backwards, slamming onto the coffee table before rolling off with a thump as you connect with the ground. Eijirou crushes you when you land and you shove a palm into his cheek and wrench his head to the side.

You desperately sink your teeth into the muscle where Eijirou’s neck meets his shoulder, hoping the pain will allow him to snap out of it. He wails, the sound distorted from mutating vocal chords and thrashes in your grip. You tear yourself away and shred his flesh in the process.

The metallic scent chokes you. There’s blood splattered everywhere, and your brain is starting to get fuzzy a long the edges as you lose yourself to the wolf.

Somehow, you’re able to tuck your feet under Eijirou’s stomach, pressing into the firm muscle there and sending him flying. You scramble to your feet, crouching low. Your upper lip raises to bare your teeth, aiming a violent snarl at Eijirou and the red head is on his hands and knees in an instant.

You’re royally pissed — and simultaneously terrified.

You don’t want to endure this atrocious situation any longer than absolutely necessary. So, you suck much needed air back into your lung, chest heaving and eyes fluttering shut before refocusing on Eijirou with intensity.

Like a mantra, you repeat to yourself just survive until Katsuki is here. Just survive until Katsuki is here.

You and Eijirou once again morph into a mess of blood and punches and viscious bites, hanging onto your consciousness by a thread.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Your head pounds. It wickedly throbs in time with your heartbeat, and your brain seems to stick to the insides of your skull.The wind whistles softly around you, tickling your skin and you realize you’re outside. Naked.

Peeling your eyes open, the cloudless blue sky burns as it peaks through the tree tops. You blink a few times to clear your blurry vision, shifting slightly on your back.

You’re positive you must’ve been run over by a truck. The all over bone deep ache is proof by itself.

Sighing, you concede to the soreness that begs you to keep lounging on the ground. Your joints creak when you bend your elbow, you brush over the close to healed claw marks on your thigh. The wound smarts, a searing heat flaring down your leg.

Fuck Eijirou, you really did a number on me.

You go limp, melting into the soft grass and damp top layer of soil for a bit longer. Bits and pieces of your memory spring to the forefront as you contemplate the utter bullshit you had to deal with the night before.

Katsuki appearing like a bat out of hell when he burst through the door and rescued you from certain doom. Eijirou completing his shift and settling into the form of a beautiful russet colored wolf. Katsuki’s carmine eyes aglow as he and Eijirou duked it out — until he was able to corral the other down into the basement.

Katsuki had locked the door with finality, and you knew you wouldn’t see either of them for hours.

You remember shivering with rage, bloody and damn near beaten to a pulp, pulling splinters from way too many sensitive areas. You had taken off into the woods right after, bearing the excruciating shift and running for miles as the wolf.

Now, here you are.

Naked and internally debating with yourself to get the hell up and make the horrendous trek back to your home. Honestly, you don’t want to see either of them right now. Eijirou will be distraught with guilt and it’s just —

You’re still irate about the entire ordeal.

You curse aloud, pushing to your feet at a snails pace, gently stretching and taking note of the new bruises you’re sporting.

There’s a lot of dried blood.

A lot.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Once you make it back into your living room, you’re not at all shocked to see the mess from the night before had miraculously disappeared.

The pathetic remains of the bedroom door have been taken away. All the blood has been cleaned.

At least your coffee table survived the battle.

You sigh in relief. Thank God for Katsuki, he would never dream of leaving a crime scene behind. You tentatively sniff the air, the familiar scents of your partners have gone stale. They must not have wanted to linger, opting to give you some space.

You’re grateful, as it allows you time to shower and sleep.

You scrub your skin under the spray of hot water, collecting your thoughts as you comb the birds nest that has become your hair. You wince each time you press too hard on a bruise or soap stings your wounds.

Hopefully you’ll be mostly healed by the time you wake up.

A soft warmth blooms in your chest when you reach your bed. Eijirou has left you one of his T-shirts to wear and Katsuki’s favorite blanket is tangled in with the others. And one of them had found your missing phone, placing it on the charger and letting it rest on the side table.

You’re a zombie slipping into Eijirou’s too large shirt. The thinning, worn, and soft material brushes your thighs. When you lay down, you bring the collar of Eijirou’s shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of fresh rainfall wash over you.

You pull Katsuki’s blanket up over your shoulders. The sweet smell of orange and cinnamon fills your senses, relaxing you entirely.

You’re out like a light before you know it.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

They come home late into the afternoon. Obnoxiously loud and cheerful — at least on Eijirou’s part.

Your stomach clenches as their voices grow closer.

You’ve been resting as much as possible, cuddled up and barely paying attention to the movie flickering across the screen.

You’d taken the past few hours to reflect. As you cooled off you knew it wasn’t really Eijirou’s fault, that he was just as petrified as you had been.

It’s not as if you’d never gone off the deep end in the beginning, and Eijirou was there for you. With no hesitation.

You made up your mind that reconciling with Eijirou was your first priority when they returned. Eijirou passes through the makeshift curtain door first, eyes growing comically large and footsteps halting when he spots you.

The short silence is unpleasant, and Eijirou shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot, unsure of what he should do next. You offer him an awkward, tight lipped smile, along with a small wave and his tense composure disintegrates.

Within the second he’s making haste to crawl up on the bed and get to you. All the built up frustration bubbles to the surface, stinging the backs of your eyes as you fist the blanket.

“Baby,” Eijirou breathes, voice cracking as you sit up and slip your arms around his neck when he reaches you. He tugs you close, clinging to your waist with one arm and cradling the base of your skull with his free hand to keep you in place.

You swallow a lump, inhaling against the skin of his throat deeply as he manages to make you feel safe and relieved.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks. You’re concerned he may start crying.

You nod jerkily, gripping him tighter. You hate the way his voice shakes as he apologizes. This wasn’t his fault and you’re determined to make sure he knows that.

“It’s okay Ei. I know baby, I know. This isn’t on you, okay?” You reassure him, voice watery with emotion. Eijirou chokes out an acknowledgement, sniffling.

Katsuki then takes a seat on the bed behind you, rubbing a warm palm back and forth between your shoulder blades in comfort. He places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

The three of you sit there and hash out the night before, spending a good half hour at least, talking through everything. Brainstorming ways to prevent this from occurring again.

The conversation eventually trails off into a comfortable silence before Katsuki opens his mouth.

“You take off into the woods last night?” Katsuki asks somberly.

“Yeah.” Your response gets muffled by Eijirou’s shirt and Katsuki snorts.

“Well, you sure as hell look like it,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works.

You whip your head around to glare daggers at Katsuki but he’s giving you a teasing smile, nudging you playfully. You punch his stomach halfheartedly, unable to stop your lips from turning upwards.

“Whatever, dickpunch.”

Eijirou laughs, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes and chuckle at your childish insult. You study Eijirou rubbing his cheek as you recline into Katsuki’s chest, his soothing warmth seeping through both your shirts.

“So are you really okay?” Eijirou prods, scratching the side of his nose and looking away with a frown.

“I’m fine Ei,” you murmur tenderly. You stretch your leg out, showing him the side of your thigh where the marks have mostly faded. “See? It’s just a scar now, which will go away soon.” You poke his ribs with your toes.

Eijirou’s expression spells relief as he brushes the pads of his fingertips feather light over the raised pinkish skin. You shiver from the ticklish sensation, a flash of arousal burning your lower belly. Eijirou’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, lids drooping a bit when he notices your shiver.

The blonde must have picked up on the new charge in the atmosphere, because Katsuki leans in close to whisper something sultry in your ear, making you jolt.

“What do you think baby?” Katsuki hums, securing an arm around your waist. “Eijirou’s been so fucking bad, we should punish him. Don’t you think?” He suggests enticingly, acting as the devil on your shoulder.

You glance back at the redhead, who’s gone slack jawed, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink. Your eyebrow twitches as you pretend to mull it over. You trail your eyes up and down Eijirou’s figure lazily and he fidgets in place, fingers curling into the hem of his shorts.

You think it’s the perfect way to get things back to normal. You tilt your head, making heated eye contact with Katsuki. A coy grin lights up your face.

“What did you have in mind?”

The mischievous glint in Katsuki’s eye is answer enough.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

“Fuck! Katsuki, oh god,” you gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

Katsuki’s eagerly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, spitting out a few curses as he does so.

The stretch is delicious, and you squeeze his forearms mercilessly. Your nails create indentations as he teasingly pulls back until just the head remains, rolling his hips and filling you to the brim with one fluid motion.

Your spine arches, skull digging into the mattress below as Katsuki starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, thumb coming up to work slow circles into your clit.

At this angle, you have an upside down view of Eijirou sitting behind you, reclining halfway up against the headboard. Katsuki took it upon himself to spread you out flat on your back between the redhead’s thighs.

He taunted Eijirou with an arrogant smirk, meanly instructing him he isn’t allowed to cum until you and Katsuki do. Katsuki demands Eijirou only touch you if you initiate it first, and you agreed.

So for now, Eijirou’s pouting, settling on wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he leers at the scene in front of him. He tried to avoid splitting his lip with razor sharp teeth.

You’re able to meet his hungry gaze briefly, before fingers are gripping your chin and yanking you from the gorgeous view.

“Don’t fucking look at Ei. He’s in trouble, remember?” Katsuki huffs, a bead of sweat trailing from his temple down to his jaw. “Keep those eyes on me,” Katsuki says firmly, voice raspy and low.

You nod stiffly, whimpering when he releases you and pats your cheek just this side of too rough.

“You follow orders so well, what a good girl,” Katsuki praises, leaning back and sitting on his calves.

It’s no surprise his sweet words have your head filled with cotton. You lick your chapped bottom lip as you’re blessed with the view of Katsuki’s lower stomach flexing and his hips tensing as he continues to thrust at a perfect pace.

The blonde shoots Eijirou a nasty grin, making absolutely sure Eijirou can watch everything. Like the way the inner lips of your pussy stretch with Katsuki’s cock every time he thrusts backwards. Or the way you can tell his cock is shiny with your slick each time he pulls out.

Katsuki grips the bottoms of your thighs, effortlessly pushing them towards your chest and bending you in half. You cry out, eyes going wide when Katsuki suddenly nails your sweet spot. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, goosebumps littering your arms.

Blindly, you reach backwards, searching for Eijirou’s hands. The redhead lets out a breathy moan, quickly lacing your fingers together and resting your conjoined hands on his thighs.

“You can only fucking touch her hands Ei. Don’t push it,” Katsuki warns with a surprisingly steady, yet strained voice. Ya know, considering he’s fucking you like he’s trying to make you scream yourself hoarse.

“Yes Katsuki,” Eijirou replies obediently, throat clicking audibly when he swallows.

Katsuki presses closer, pupils dilated and jaw hanging open as he brings you closer to that addictive high. His eyebrows pinch together as he focuses on you.

Shocks of pleasure race up your spine each time he pushes his cock back inside you, the sound of your skin smacking together burning your ears. A coil starts to wind up behind your belly button impossibly tight, pussy clenching around him rhythmically.

You hold Eijirou’s hands in a death grip.

“Kat, I — fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you manage to spit out between gritted teeth, back threatening to lift off the mattress.

“Yeah?” Katsuki coos teasingly. “Fucking cum for me then.”

And you do. Muscles going taught, tension snapping as warmth gushes through you, toes curling. You can’t make out what Eijirou’s mumbling behind you, focused on the way Katsuki’s gasping your name.

The blonde lets out a breathy moan, pulling out and stroking his cock twice before he cums, covering your stomach in sticky white ribbons.

You go lax, unmoving as your legs hit the mattress. You desperately try to catch your breath as Eijirou let’s go of your hands.

“Fuck, please let me cum Katsuki! This isn’t fair!” Eijirou whines, one of his knees knocking you in the shoulder as he shifts his weight around.

You can’t see him but you know he’s pouting.

“Alright Eijirou, you can cum,” Katsuki says nonchalantly. He sits back on his calves, flushed chest heaving.

You flip over onto your belly just as Eijirou takes a hold of himself. He strokes his cock a few times, squirming with relief and you make the choice to help him out.

Eijirou’s close to peaking when you close the distance between you. You duck your head, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and suck it softly into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue. You roll the other one between your fingers.

Eijirou yelps, thighs jumping as he cums instantly, making a mess of his stomach as his breath stutters in his chest. He tilts his head back with a high pitched moan.

Katsuki makes an approving sound from somewhere behind you as you keep mouthing at Eijirou, only backing off when the redhead pushes at your forehead when he gets too sensitive.

Eijirou sinks down the headboard, blushing brightly and panting. You pillow your cheek on his thigh, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.

Eventually, Katsuki kicks both your asses into gear, getting you off the bed and shuffled into the shower to clean yourselves off. You change the sheets because they’re “fucking gross”, — as Katsuki puts it.

As you’re getting dressed again, Eijirou comes up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist in a sweet hug.

“Everything fucking sorted now?” Katsuki asks with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his hip on the doorframe. He eyes the embrace you’re locked in and raises an eyebrow.

“Course! Everything’s peachy,” Eijirou replies happily, nuzzling the back of your head as a low rumble starts up in his chest. You snicker, patting one of the arms holding you.

“Good, because I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me again,” you say playfully. Eijirou laughs brightly and Katsuki snorts.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m locking his dumbass in the basement tonight.”

[chion3spid3r]

dating prowler miles

pairings : e42!miles x fem!reader

warning : possessiveness, suggestive, suggestive talks, competitiveness, emotional talks

summary : what’s like to be the girlfriend of Miles

wc : 2.2k

a/n : if I did e1610!miles, I need to do e42!miles obviously.

bf!miles who would who will intimidate any man who approaches you with just a glance—a skill honed from years of being street-smart and cautious. One evening, your boyfriend Miles is hanging out with you when a guy you knew said hi. Without hesitation, he shoot the guy a quick, icy stare. Miles, always protective, make the guy run far from the two of you,

"Miles, damn he's my cousin!" Miles looks sheepish for a moment, then can't help but chuckle nervously at the misunderstanding. "My bad, babe. You know I gotta keep you safe though," he says, half-jokingly, knowing your ability to handle yourself but still wanting to look out for you.

bf!miles who would whisper to you spanish sweet nothings. Though Miles projects a tough guy image on the streets, he has an incredibly gentle side that only you get to see. Every night as you lay cuddled up in his arms, he murmurs tender Spanish endearments and flirty phrases in your ear. His voice is deep and soothing, the cadences and lilts of the Spanish words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the rumbling timbre of his voice lull you into a state of complete security and peace.

bf!miles who would bring you to arcade dates. Miles can be incredibly competitive, especially when it comes to video games. He loves taking you to the local arcade for dates and showing off his gaming prowess. He gets an adorable swell of pride on his face when he's dominating the high scores on his favorite games. One evening, however, you ended up beating not just his high score but his skills overall on the arcade's most popular game. Miles' jaw dropped and he tried to play it cool, insisting he'd never really practiced that game before. But you could see the look of shocked impressed behind his eyes,

bf!miles who would give you late night visits. After his nightly patrols, Miles often finds himself tapping at your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning. He'll slip inside, wearing prowler suit and looking exhausted. For Miles, these quiet, intimate moments are a sanctuary where he can be vulnerable and find comfort and solace after a difficult patrol.

"Sorry for waking you up, ma" he'll murmur contritely, running a hand through his messy braids. But you don't mind at all - in fact, you live for these late night visits. You guide him over to the bed and gently massage the tension from his shoulders and back as he recounts the events of his night.

bf!miles who would let you doing his hair braiding ritual. Miles takes great pride in his thick, braided hair and sees it as part of his identity. However, he only allows you and his mama to touch and style it - a sign of his deep trust.

Some evenings you'll sit on the bed behind him, carefully parting and braiding his hair, though your braiding skills admittedly still need some work. Miles will playfully wince and tease "Damn ma, you tryna rip my whole head off?" when you tug a little too hard on a section. But he remains patient, gently guiding your hands and giving you tips, until eventually the braid is neatly completed.

bf!miles who would never leave you with only a peck, for him, you directly make out. When Miles is feeling that fire for you, he doesn't hold back. His kisses start off soft and sweet but quickly deepen into something passionate and hungry.His intensity and desire for you is palpable and intoxicating.

When you look especially hot to him, he won't let you out. If you try to pull away, breathless, he growls "Stay right there, ma. Can't let you get away when you look that hot." He pulls you flush against his body, roaming hands leaving a trail of heat over your skin.

bf!miles who would discover secret places and bring you to them after he foud hem. In his nightly prowls around the city as the Prowler, Miles has discovered countless hidden gems - tucked away rooftops, winding alleyways, secret urban gardens and more. Whenever you've had a particularly stressful day, he'll surprise you by taking you on an impromptu exploration of these secret spots. Seeing the wonder and forgotten beauty of these places through Miles' perspective reminds you that even in the darkest of times, there's always light and enchantment to be found if you know where to look.

bf!miles who would buy you matching jordans. Both of you love to stunt, especially when it comes to your fresh kicks. One day Miles surprises you with a pair of brand new limited edition Jordans - except there's two pairs, one for each of you. He loves any opportunity to show the world that you're his girl. Rocking those matching kicks together is like a subtle claim staking your status as a couple.

bf!miles who wouldalways be a flirtatious teaser. Miles, before you two became a couple, loved to tease and get a riled reaction out of you. Whether it's mocking your Spanish accent (despite the fact that he has one too) or sneaking up behind you to grip your hips and press himself against you, he's constantly pushing your buttons in that flirtatious way of his. Part admiration, part purely carnal desire, Miles never lets too much time pass without reminding you just how much he wants you.

"You know how Latinas turn me on, ma. And you ain't no exception," he'll murmur in your ear, his voice dropping into that deep, rumbly register that makes you shiver.

bf!miles who would let you makeup him despite his boredom. Miles projects a tough, macho image, so you're surprised when he begrudgingly agrees to let you experiment with makeup on him one day.

As you start applying foundation, he's already fidgeting and groaning. "Ma, you really gotta do that shit?" he protests, flinching when you get too close to his eyes with the brushes.

You laugh at his reaction. "Hold still, tough guy. Don't be such a baby about it."

Miles grumbles under his breath but remains on the bedr, letting out exaggerated sighs and complaints like "This makeup shit is for real uncomfortable" and "How do y'all deal with this every day?"

When you finally get to the false lashes, Miles outright balks. "Oh hell no, there's no way you're putting those spidery things anywhere near my eyes!"

You pout at him until he reluctantly gives in with an eye roll. "Aiight, aiight, just get it over with quick."

As you meticulously apply the faux lashes, Miles stays uncharacteristically still and tense, grousing things like "This better not leave me with no lashes after" and "Not a damn word about this to the guys, a'ight?"

Once it's all done, he examines his made-up look in the mirror, trying to play it cool even as you catch him giving a subtle smile.

Ⓡ chion3spid3r all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

[best-of-yandere]

NSFT DC Cockwarming and Lactation Kink Headcanons

NO MINORS, 18+ ONLY

tw: yandere, public sex, dub-con somnophila, food tampering

Cockwarming ft. Bruce, Dick, Tim, Clark

Bruce: he’d have you warm him while he’s on the batcomputer (facing towards him so that you can’t see the horrors on the screen). His biggest motivation for doing this is so he doesn’t lose himself in his research and the crimes on the screen; you clenching around him brings him back to you, and thus himself.

He’d also want to try it in his office during boring phone calls/meetings. He’ll be in a conference call with some nobody shareholders, while you’re twitching around him. It’ll inevitably turn into him fucking you over his desk trying so hard to keep his voice level (and you quiet) while you’re creaming around him.

Dick: he’s always active, always moving around, but being buried inside you gives him a chance to relax for once…although it always turns into more. Him humping you and cumming over and over until he’s finally exhausted and truly allows himself to relax and stay still. At least until he falls asleep, still buried in you, then his wet dreams (about you) take over and he’s humping you in his sleep. He just can’t get enough of you, even when he’s unconscious.

Tim: this boy is exhausted – yet he refuses to go to sleep, kept too busy by paperwork or cases. Unless, of course, you lull him to sleep with your warmth. It’s the best way to bribe him to go to bed, by spreading your legs and and easing him inside, cuddling with him, your face in his neck and his cock in your pussy. He’ll stay in there as long as he can before the inevitable emergency rises him from his slumber.

Clark: he’d be into cockwarming due to not having a refractory period. When you’re exhausted but he’s still ready to go he can just let your post-orgasm clenching bring him to the edge and past it again. He stays inside you during the night, only separating from your warmth when he has to go to work/patrol.

Lactation kink with Damian, Bruce, Jason, and Tim

Damian: he’s obviously got a breeding kink, and lactation ties into that. It means he’s been successful and you body is providing the means to nourish the child you’ve made together. But he starts thinking that if it could nourish a baby, why not him as well? Used to his breeding kink, the agreement to let him have a taste comes easy. And once he does, he can’t stop. It’s a part of YOU inside him, feeding him, giving him strength. He’s insatiable, which means he’ll just have to keep you pregnant (and as a consequence, never be able to leave him).

Bruce & Jason: both would be into breastfeeding for the same reason – comfort. They’ve both been through a lot of trauma and loss, haunted by horrors that give them nightmares, keeping them up at night. Suckling on their darlings’ breasts and drinking your milk (something that is made to give life, not take it) brings an instinctual comfort that helps lull them back to sleep in your arms.

Tim: his way of indulging in your milk is different than the rest of his family. He’ll have you pump it so he can put it in his coffee, cereal, and any food you make him, sometimes just drinking it plain in a glass. He thinks it’s romantic; you giving a part of yourself to him, him making it a part of himself. You creating something that gives life, giving it to him, to feed and nourish him. And of course, he’ll return the favor by sneaking some of his “milk” into what you consume; he’s just a romantic like that.

[chaithetics]

Sweeter Than Honey

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f (afab) plus size reader Prompt: Smutty fic w/afab bi plus size reader & Matt Murdock. The smuttier the better! Word count: 4.2K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutty-smut-smut! I think this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Language warning, I think! No physical description other than reader being plus size. One reference to reader being bi. Established relationship. Not proof or beta read. I A/N: I'm so excited to share the 2nd Fics for Palestine fic (you can learn more at that link)!!! A massive thank you to @thatesqcrush for donating to PAL Humanity! I really appreciate it, and hope you enjoy it! I hope everyone else enjoys this Matt fic! I did write half of this loopy on pain meds and fuelled by sleep deprivation so be kind lol! I've had a pretty cursed week. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated! 🫶 P.S. Keep doing what you can to support Palestine! It's all important, whether it's donating, contacting your local and relevant political reps, sharing and engaging with resources and posts, showing up to local events etc. Here is a post I made with free things to do from home to help Palestine. Much love 🖤❤️🤍💚 Gif by @cellophaine

The city that never sleeps at night, is still humming with life. That’s all out of focus as you’re sprawled out in bed, enjoying the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows of Hell’s Kitchen, it’s lulled you in and out of sleep throughout the evening. That and the body of the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

Matt and you had spent the afternoon inside, making love, cuddling up on the sofa watching some television and listening to the audio description voiceovers. After an early dinner of takeaways that had been delivered to the apartment’s doorstep and possibly another orgasm or two, Matt had then left for a patrol. 

The rest of your evening had passed pretty quickly with mindless activities and chores and now you were in bed. Dozing in and out of sleep, you’re well aware that your sleep wouldn’t be unbroken until you had the warmth pressed against you that only Matt’s body could provide. There was something about how it felt to have his strong arms around you to be his little spoon and how he’d press kisses against your neck and shoulders as he’d start to enter and then later on leave sleep. 

It wasn’t long after your next yawn and long blink that you heard the telltale signs of Matt’s body quietly but still audibly entering the apartment. It was impressive, he was a fox of a man but he also moved in such a fox-like manner, it was sneaky, elegant, and careful, you’re sure that to those against him, it felt sly and quick too. 

You blink a few more times before you see his figure come into the bedroom, he’s walking fine, which kind of surprises you, his senses are spectacular but he was never gifted with super healing or anything, he had to suffer and bear the pain just like everyone else. You immediately smile as you see him come in. He quickly strips off of his vigilante gear and shoves it away and then walks to the bed. 

He crawls on the bed until he’s close to you, he plants a kiss on your plump upper arm and then starts to trace his fingers along it, trying to feel any freckles or moles that he maybe has missed a previous night and is yet to commit to his memory. It’s something that might’ve made you feel a tad insecure years ago, once upon a time but now, you just take it for the peaceful moment of love that it is. “How was it? You don’t look like a wounded warrior tonight.” You tilt your head slightly to look at him, you can’t help the feeling of contentment as you move a hand of yours to run through the soft and now sweaty hair on his head. 

“Quiet. Barely petty even.” He says as he moves so he’s leaning more on top of you, resting his chin on your chest. You hum in response, it’s a bit surprising but you’re not complaining, he’s home earlier which is perfect. It might be hard to believe but sometimes there are even quiet nights in New York, somehow. “You didn’t have any gentlemen or lovely ladies come over to take my place and keep the bed warm while I was gone, did you?” He asks playfully as his fingers feel the soft material of your nightgown as his hand runs along your full hips. 

“No, not tonight.” You reply with a small chuckle as you look at his handsome face, taking in how each feature of his looks in the dim light. 

“That’s good because I missed you.” He says in that voice that immediately makes your cheeks heat up and you can’t help but feel every filthy thought you’ve ever had about him floating around in your head at this moment. 

“Is that so?” You ask in a whisper, you try to keep your voice even but it cracks with a bit of need and you know he hears it. He would’ve sensed it by now. “Of course.” Matt lets out a small breathless chuckle his expression morphing into a wider grin as he runs his hand down to your thick thighs, caressing gently with the midnight whispers of what’s to come. You watch his handsome face, taking in the expression, how there’s a playfulness in the quirk of his lips but there is also concentration etched into his brows and highlighted by the dim, evening light. Your eyes drop to watch his hand as you feel his rough, calloused hands gently push the hem of your nightgown up to more of your stomach. You don’t even realise you’re holding your breath until his fingers feel your now bare upper thighs and he squeezes them, you let out a short breath and quickly inhale again. Matt was absolutely in love with you and your body, he worshipped you, exactly as he should. You were a bit surprised that after the day you’d both had and then him coming back from a patrol he was already ready to go but as your cheeks heated up, he could be completely insatiable at times but you didn’t have a single complaint. “May I, darling?” He asks. “Yes, now…” You whisper with a smile to match his growing one. “Good, I need you…” He lets out a small groan as he moves so he’s now hovering over you as he spreads out your thighs and gets between them. He runs his fingers along the sensitive skin of your plush thighs. Matt brings his head down and leaves a trail of warm kisses inching up your thighs, you inhale and let out a little moan as you feel his hot breath on you and his soft, warm lips. You move your hand to touch the top of his head and run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as his kisses trail up higher and higher, getting closer to your core. He moves a hand up to lightly squeeze the beautiful love handles you have, he’s been enchanted by you from the very first beat of your heart that he could hear. He’s obsessed and his senses could just drown in you, he will happily shut out the rest of the world and all the responsibilities, codes of ethics and Catholic guilt that haunt him just to be fully focused on and overwhelmed by you. His hand that isn’t squeezing you moves up to get closer to your sweet hole. “You’re so perfect… So beautiful…” He says in a husky voice between the thigh kisses he’s showering you with. Matt’s fingers tease around your folds, more on the furthest parts of your vulva he can feel your arousal, he can smell it. He’s barely touched you but you’re already so needy and ready for him, he grins like the devil he is and his fingers edge closer to your core, he expertly teases his fingers through your slick folds. When he feels your juices and just how turned on you are, a deep groan leaves his mouth and you see his hips instinctively press into the mattress for a moment. You let out a gasp, it never takes him long to get you slick like this, just a few words and that infamous cocky grin that’s a frequent fixture on his face in the bedroom. You run your hands through his hair a bit more urgently now while he keeps teasing you with his digits, his fingers becoming coated in your juices. “Already soaking wet…” Matt teases in the sexiest tone you’ve ever heard, you let out a barely audible and desperate whimper, just needing more. You need more of him, as you watch Matt lift his hand away for a moment to bring it closer to his face. You watch him with heavy-lidded eyes as he licks it up, at first it’s slow and then he sucks the taste of you off his fingers more quickly and he moans. 

“You always taste so good, sweetest thing in the world…” He says as he then moves his hand back down and fingers now circle your sweet hole, teasing you and you let out a whine as you just want to swallow him up now. “You taste so good, and you’re just so wet, baby… That pussy is just begging to be licked…” He groans, a neediness in his voice that’s just as equal to the need burning inside of you. “Please, Matt…” You whine out, your nails scratching his scalp a little bit more roughly. You need him, every muscle in your body is craving to feel his sensual touch, each inch of your skin needs to feel his body and you just need to be filled by him. 

He quickly pushes his index finger in and you moan out. He closes his eyes as he slides it in and out, enjoying how your velvety walls swallow him, focusing on the other-worldly feeling of your body and the sweet musical moans each thrust of his fingers pulls out of you. You’re his soft and sexy instrument, singing out the most melodic tune. You moan out and tug his short hair as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out, he lets out a groan as he feels more and more of your juices. He slips another finger in, you’re that wet it slides in so easily and he groans at the feeling of how you just swallow that finger up and you moan yourself at the the fuller feeling it gives your hole. He can’t help it, he was right in his earlier statement, your body is just begging him to dive right in for a taste, he can’t resist it anymore, so he continues to pump his fingers in and out, pressing them in deeper and moving them at a faster pace as he brings his face closer to your core. Matt trails his tongue along the edge of your core, lightly running it along your folds as he moves his thumb to circle your sensitive little bud that is just begging for his attention. 

His tongue glides amongst your folds and he moans against you as his fingers keep pumping and his thumb circles more lazily against your bundle of nerves. He moans against you and the simple vibrations of that make your body shake slightly and you moan out as your breathing becomes more shallow from the pleasure. “You make me feel so good Matt.” You whine out as you buck your hips up to meet his mouth and fingers more. That simple movement drives him more wild and he pumps his fingers more intensely making you moan. He starts to move his tongue more through you and eagerly laps up between your folds, his tongue brushing against your clit. He’s savouring the sweetness of your pussy like he’s a man that’s been absolutely starved, that he hasn’t eaten in forever and he’s never had a meal as decadent as this, that he’s never even dreamed of something so delicious and perfect even though his face had been buried between your thighs only hours ago, not weeks, months or years like you might imagine with how eager he was. 

Matt licks your clit, circling it with the biggest need to pleasure you, he needs to devour this divine feast in front of him. He groans as he thinks about how he’d happily spend the rest of his life in this exact position, pleasuring you exactly like this. He needs to make you come, he’s feeling himself becoming harder and harder the more he thinks about making you come and feeling it on his tongue, his face, and being able to taste it. The feeling of Matt’s fingers curling inside you more makes you groan and your eyes widen as he sucks on your bundle of nerves and then hums, his mouth constantly going between lapping you up, licking and sucking on your clit. You’re getting closer and closer, you pull on his hair more and whine out loudly, you can feel the start of that incredible high kicking in. “I’m so close- I’m gonna-I’m gonna come Matty…” You frantically cry out as your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches as you tug on his hair, making you groan, he keeps licking and circling your clit and thrusting his thick fingers into you as you become undone and cry out as you release directly onto his fingers and tongue. You shake slightly as you come down from that high, your body overcome by pleasure and your sensitive spots becoming even more sensitive from release. Matt’s fingers move at a more gentle pace that pulls out another soft moan from you as you take some deep breaths. Matt licks you up, taking in each drop of your juices that he can just so he can treasure them on his tongue, let the flavour become a permanent memory for his mouth. One might think he’s licking you clean and while it’s a bit overstimulating his tongue is gentle, he isn’t done with you yet. He needs more of his sweet treat first before he can even think of moving on to having another part of him buried deep inside of you. He needs to make you come again first. You moan, and keep your eyes closed as all you can do is try to focus on your breathing, something you’re only able to do for four seconds, at the most. And you’re immediately back to only being able to focus on the feeling of his tongue working you through it. How it just makes you more aroused and wetter, you can’t help but think about how wet is mouth and chin must be, how they’ll glisten with your juices when he does pull away. “Matt…” You whisper and moan as you tug his hair lightly. “Come on baby.” He whispers against you before slowly licking through your folds again, the hand that isn’t slowly fingering you, moves up to your round stomach to caress it lovingly, almost reassuringly. “Just give me one more, please?” He asks as your cheeks heat up at that and you let out a little chuckle between moans. “It’s not going to take long for that.” You groan out as you feel his tongue apply more pressure to your hypersensitive bud. 

“I know.” He whispers cockily against your clit which makes you shiver. Of course, he knew. What didn’t he know, he was a sexy human lie detector, one conveniently buried between your legs right now. 

You’re feeling a bit overstimulated at the strokes of his tongue, but it also feels incredible as he keeps swirling his tongue, circling and sucking on your clit. He sucks a bit harder like his life depends on it as he applies more pressure with his mouth and also presses his fingers a bit deeper into your hole. You’re soaking him but he can’t help but moan against your core at the feeling of your needy, overstimulated bud and how your slick walls keep swallowing his digits up with each movement he makes. 

Matt sucks a bit more hungrily as he can tell from your heartbeat and breathing that he’s brought you right back to the cliff again and you’re not even moments away from being pushed over into another release. God, he loves working you up like this and you love it too. One hand is tugging on his hair, becoming rougher with each calculated lick of his and your other is up to the other side of the pillow, tightly holding it, digging your nails in as you moan and feel that feeling of an orgasm building up again in your core. Your hips buck more into his face as you moan and your back arches as you whine out, your eyes roll back as the warm waves of that sweet release overcome you. Any and all tension in your body leaves as his tongue laps you up through your release. He was so obsessed with the taste of you, it was so much better than any cheap beer that Josie’s could serve on a hot night, sweeter than any honey that’s melted on his tongue. 

His hand gently caresses your hip, tracing along an imaginary map as he licks you through the high and cleans you up with his mouth. He groans and comes up, leaving his second home for a moment. 

“You taste and feel so good, I need to feel you more, I need to be buried in you.” Matt pants out as he moves up so that his hips are closer to yours and his face is hovering just inches against you. His voice is needy and low, if you were standing up and not already lying down on the bed you would’ve melted into a puddle. “Mm… Let me feel you deep inside, fill me up, Matty.” You whine out quietly as you run a hand lazily through his hair and place the other on the back of his shoulder. “My fingers weren’t enough were they?” He asks as he moves each of your legs to wrap around the back of his waist. “No..” You whine out as you look at him with heavy lids, running your fingers through his soft hair. “Mm, say my fingers weren’t enough.” He whispers and your cheeks heat up. “Your fingers weren’t enough Matty, didn’t make me feel full enough baby.” You moan out as you feel him press in. He groans at the feeling, he slides in slowly but easily with your two recent orgasms and just how soaked you are. He takes a shaky breath as his eyes close and he feels your body adjust to his entry and how your walls swallow, tighten and clench around his member. 

“Mmm…” You moan out as your head falls back further into the pillow, Matt groans and starts to slowly move his hips against you which draws out a chorus of groans and moans from both of you. He caresses your plump thighs while moving and goes on a journey of kisses starting with your full cheeks to your soft jaw and along your sensitive neck, he groans and smirks at the way you moan when he gives those spots attention. His kisses are soft and sensual as he caresses and wraps his arms around you while he rocks in and out. “So perfect for me every time, you know that right? So perfect, and you swallow me up, and your body… I don’t need anything else.” He says and you feel his breath and each word tickle against your collarbone as he thrusts in and out. Your cheeks heat up and you groan as he thrusts in deeper and you feel yourself clenching around him, swallowing him up more with each perfect movement he makes. You love him, you love how he feels, how he makes you feel, you love who he is as a person and you love his body. Matt’s body presses closer against yours, flushing your bodies together, chest to chest, his forehead leaning against yours as he rocks in, his arms wrapping around, pressing your head closer ever so lovingly. He always loves this cuddling position, that makes your bodies feel even more like one. He moves deeper into you, enjoying this as he presses a soft kiss against your lips but he can’t help it. Your body is too goddamn perfect. Every bit of self-restraint leaves his body at the way that your perfect pussy keeps clenching around his thick member, he wanted to make this last, to fully bask in it, but when you clench around him like that, tug on his hair and moan like that he can’t help it. Who could? He groans hungrily and starts to move his hips quicker, the pace becoming deeper and more intense with each movement and he groans at the feelings. God, you feel incredible. He’s never felt so good with someone like he does with you, he knows it sounds silly but he’s convinced that your bodies were sculpted to perfectly fit together. There’s no other explanation. He groans and his eyes close as he pants thinking about it, he can hear your heart rate increasing at the change of pace. You’re so perfect. You whine out at the new depth and pace, tugging on his hair as you bite your lip. Your fingers dance across his back as you scratch it with each deep thrust of his that pulls a moan out of you. He has you feeling completely full and you can’t help but gasp out at the loss with each time his hips come back. 

“You always feel perfect, you squeeze me just right…oh…” He groans and bites his lip, his arms wrapped around you move slightly so that he can cradle your head more and caress your forehead as he pounds into you. His groans are deep and just show you how much pleasure he’s in. You whine out and claw his back more, you’re sure that in the morning when you shower with him, there will be faint red lines on his back from your hands. The thought about that turns you on more as you keep scratching and moaning. You were flooding him as he kept moving deeper and deeper, each snap of his hips pulled more moans from you and he was groaning and when you clenched around him he’d sometimes let out a little hiss. 

It felt so good, too good, it shouldn’t be possible for two bodies to be able to bring each other this much pleasure. Yet there you both were in the bed you shared doing it anyway. Matt’s body kept moving at a quick pace, he was fumbling any form of control he had over making this last, his hips were quick but now he was thrusting into you more deeply and frantically as your room became filled with the noises of your bodies meeting and all your moans. 

Matt needed to chase his high now, he was too close and he knew it was going to happen in mere seconds, not minutes. He keeps driving his hips into you as he cuddles against you, you’re tugging on his hair and moaning against his neck, sucking on it when you’re not too overwhelmed to cry out. You keep tugging against his hair and moaning, you can’t read his body as well as he can read yours for obvious reasons but you know he’s getting closer, his breathing is shallow and his hips are moving intensely and starting to sputter. Matt groans loudly and kisses you hotly, pushing his tongue in and dancing with yours as he groans and swallows up your respective moans as his hips keep frantically moving to thrust in and out of your sweet, sweet hole until he gives his last groan against your mouth and releases, deep inside of you. He’s so loud and his eyes snap shot as he’s overcome with the feeling of that release. The warmth of his come floods you and he keeps his lips pressed against you softly as his body stills and after a moment, he pulls his lips away. Matt caresses your forehead as he pants, pressing a gentle kiss there. “So perfect.” He whispers before pressing another. You pant out and kiss his jaw. Nobody made love like Matt did, nobody could ever fill you the way he did and take you to absolute pleasure like that. He was perfect and you press kisses against his jaw in between your pants as your heart still races. He’s still inside of you. Jesus Christ, he’s still inside of you. You groan at that thought and then Matt presses a long and gentle kiss to your lips, his lips are so warm and soft. You smile as you look up at him, there’s some sweat on his brow and in his soft hair and your cheeks heat up as you can see some of your juices still glistening on his mouth and chin. 

He’s smiling widely as well, it’s not a devilish grin but rather a happy, content smile. He loves you, words aren’t needed. He pulls out after a moment and then lays back and pulls you carefully into his arms to rest your head against his chin and he closes his eyes. “You’re sweeter than honey.” He whispers as his hand gently caresses your cheek. 

“I guess that’s lucky for me.” You breathlessly whisper while trying to catch your breath. 

“No darling, I’m the lucky one.” He says as he pants and presses a warm kiss to the side of your head. You smile and that and you both let out a small chuckle as you cuddle more into his warm body. You might’ve not had a taste of him tonight like he did of you but he’s equally sweet as honey you think.

[ghostbsuter]

Wonder MOM ( part 1 )

Happenings/mentions of:

Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!

Nothing is explicit.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Someone was in that cage.

Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.

"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"

With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.

He knows that face.

Thats—!!

"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.

"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.

"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."

He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.

It's there, barely.

"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."

"Got it. B, be careful, please."

Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.

With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.

His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.

"Batsy?"

"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."

"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.

"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.

The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.

(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)

—

Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.

"Hello—"

"I found him."

Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.

"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"

The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.

"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."

There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.

"They took his blood–?!"

"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."

"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."

"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."

With a click and the call ended.

One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.

"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.

"I do."

(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)

The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.

At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.

"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.

"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.

Bruce suppresses a sigh.

There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.

Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.

Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.

"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.

"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.

He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.

"Is my mom coming?"

"Yes, she is on her way."

"Wonderful!"

He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.

Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.

'New br—'

"No."

Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.

'Honorary brother?'

He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.

"Yes! Honorary!"

She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.

"It slipped my mind."

(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)

(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)

"Wait, so who is the moth—"

A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.

Wonder woman stepped through.

"That answers my question then."

"Mom!"

Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.

The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."

Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"

"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.

Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.

For now that is.

The portal closes.

"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"

"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"

"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."

"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"

"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* Breathe (Yandere!Monster x AFAB!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, bed bug inspired monster, minor character death, Non-Con, traumatic insemination, blood, physical torture, mental torture, impregnation, necrophilia

(Reader) breathed deeply, bouncing side to side in the back of the armored vehicle. The men and women by their side held equally grim expressions, not knowing what they were about to face. Three days ago an outpost went radio silent, the group of military scientists sent out an SOS before cutting communications. (Reader) had no idea what the scientists were studying, nor why they needed military protection in the middle of nowhere, but it wasn't their place to know. That's what they continuously told themselves as they practiced their deep breathing, secretly unnerved by how little their team was informed about this mission, and by how uneasy their teammates were.

The van rattled as it parked, and everyone exited the vehicle, guns pointed and night vision on, patrolling their designated routes throughout the empty land. (Reader) was followed by Davis and Jones, surveying the backside of one of the buildings, and praying for someone to be found alive. It was a bit dramatic, assuming that everyone was dead, but with how everyone seemed to keep this mission "hush hush", keeping important info from the men and women entering the "possibly dangerous" area, with the goal of "information retrieval" being considered a higher priority over extraction of survivors, it didn't sound like even their superiors were hopeful.

Everything was suspicious, and made everyone on edge. That worry became a very real fear when (Reader) entered the building through the back door and found the floor painted in blood. A body was mere inches from the exit, and the back of his head was torn open, exposing a cracked skull.

"Jesus Christ.." Davis covered his mouth.

(Reader) bent down, turning the body over to observe the face, comparing it to the portfolios of the personal working at the outpost they had memorized on the drive. They clicked on their walkie, speaking low. "This is (Reader), we've discovered a body, appears to be Dr. Romero."

Rodriguez's voice crackled quietly in their ears. "Copy that, this is Rodriguez, I've got two more bodies over here."

"What the hell happened to him?" Jones whispered.

(Reader) couldn't answer. There were scratches on the skull, and the skin was red and puffy surrounding it. The face was purple from the pooling blood. It didn't look like a gun shot, but (Reader) couldn't imagine what it could have been otherwise. "Let's continue on." The three left the body behind, creeping down a hall in procession.

"Movement." Behind (Reader), Davis urgently hissed, motioning towards what looked like a rec room. The formation changed, following Davis as he entered the room, focused on a couch. As they drew closer, a quiet gurgling could be heard, along with something wet dripping onto the tile flooring.

What looked like a man, naked and hunched over, was cradling a corpse, rocking back and forth. In the odd lighting of the goggles, they couldn't tell that there was something wrong with him until it was too late.

"Turn around, and put your hands up." Davis commanded, frightened and ready to shoot. The head of the corpse lulled back, revealing it's neck was completely devoured. In the second it took to blink, the creature had lunged at Davis, tackling him to the ground. (Reader) and Jones opened fire, but the bullets seemed to bounce off his back in the dark. Seeing a slight difference in texture between his back and neck, (Reader) took a chance, aiming at his neck.

The creature screamed, holding his neck and jumping to his feet, taking a moment to reveal his almost human face to (Reader), before crawling up the wall, and through a trap door in the ceiling.

"Davis!" Jones picked up his brother, patting his armor.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Davis panicked, grasping at Jones to ground himself. "I think he was trying to bite me, but- but couldn't get past my mask."

(Reader) got on the radio again. "This is (Reader), we've just been attacked. No injuries, but.. but I can't explain what just attacked us. It looked like a naked man, but it crawled up the ceiling like a bug."

"Not funny, (Reader)."

"That wasn't a joke, Rodriguez. I unloaded a clip into it, and it didn't die. It went into the attic, do I follow?"

"We're on our way, wait for backup."

Davis looked horrified. "I don't want to go up there!"

"C'mon, man-"

"No, Jones. You didn't see that thing's mouth!"

Everyone went silent as something scraped against the floor boards above them, clenching their weapons in suspense.

The front door was kicked in, Rodriguez and her crew entered the rec room, lowering their guns. "Alright, what happened here?"

"Something Humanoid was in the center of the room, eating.. whoever the hell that once was. Davis told him to put up his hands, when it knocked him to the ground, trying to bite him. Jones and I shot his back, but it didn't seem to affect him. I hit it's neck, but that only got him off of Davis, then he climbed up the wall and went through that door." (Reader) pointed at the attic door.

Rodriguez narrowed her eyes in disbelief, glaring up at the ceiling. "Let's find another way up. If there's nothing up there, we'll go back to the van, check your body cams."

Davis raised his voice defensively. "You think we're lying about this?"

"I think, it fucking reeks in here. It doesn't smell like a gas leak, but I don't believe in monsters. I'm not ruling out a hallucinogen of some kind. (Reader)-" She then nodded to (Reader), signaling to get a move on.

They searched the rooms before finding a ladder, and no other doors leading up. (Reader) sighed. "Good enough."

Davis held the ladder as (Reader) climbed up, followed by Rodriguez, then another soldier, Alistair. Inside the attic the smell was worse, like rotten fruit. It was so bad that Alistair gagged a little, trying not to throw up. "Fuck me, what is that?"

(Reader) flinched, seeing something curled up in the fetal position. "Rodriguez."

The three approached the figure carefully, the smell worsening as they approached, then, (Reader) was close enough to see that the creature wasn't breathing. They kicked it, putting a hole straight through it's stomach.

"Oh God!" Rodriguez recoiled.

However, (Reader) almost threw up, not because of the stench, but from the overwhelming fear that suddenly pulverized their spirit. "It's a shell."

"What?"

Rodriguez bent down, gingerly pulling (Reader's) foot out and examining the body, finding it to be a combination of hard shell and molted skin. "I can see why you couldn't kill it. It's back is like a bug's exoskeleton. Looks like the front is a more... human.. texture."

"But doesn't that mean it's still here somewhere?" Alistair nervously asked, glancing around in the dark.

"We need to get back to the van, call this in to our superiors." Rodriguez commanded before picking up the walkie, calling out the the other three person team. "Jackson, return to the van."

Silence.

"Jackson, you there? I said get to the van."

A barrage of shots fired from outside, echoing through the encampment. Everyone raised their weapons and fell into formation, rushing outside quietly while scoping the area. A scream from one of the newer lieutenants pierced the silent air, before choking loudly, and then returning the outpost to silence once more.

The team splintered apart, separating back into their three man groups, covering more ground in hopes of finding the last three members of their team. (Reader) smelled that fruity stench again, and motioned to their men to follow them in the smell's direction. They entered a tent covering what looked like an excavation site, a deep hole roped off with caution tape. A uniformed body laid headless in the dirt next to the entrance. In the bright green view of (Reader's) goggles, they could read Jackson's name on the vest.

Further down the large tent, a disgusting squelching noise was rhythmically slapping, along with animalistic grunts. (Reader) stepped as soundlessly as possible, stepping over torn clothing; a military vest with Adams' name, her jacket, her tank top, and even her bra, torn to shreds and strewn about, leading to the noise.

Behind a metal desk, seconds clicked by like minutes, the adrenaline forcing (Reader) to take in every detail of the horrific scene. The monster, now much larger than it was before, had Adams' corpse in it's arms, her nude upper body violently shaking as it ground it's pelvis into her abdomen, splattering blood around them. As the scene came together, (Reader) began firing, aiming at the side of his head, hoping to hit a soft spot.

The creature angrily stood up, Adams' body sliding off of what appeared to be a curved spike protruding from it's groin. It screamed, rushing (Reader) and ramming into them, knocking them off balance which sent them tumbling down into the hole.

(Reader) heard their team cry out for them, and gunfire, but they kept falling, bouncing off the walls of the hole before landing hard at the bottom, snapping their arm at the bottom.

The shouts of terror didn't last long above ground, ending with sounds of bones cracking and bodies falling. (Reader) struggled onto their feet, feeling discomfort in their rapidly swelling ankles. There didn't seem to be any rope or ladders to get back out, and they didn't know if it was safe to call for help on the radio.

Spinning around, something moved in the dark, scaring (Reader) onto their ass and fumbling for their gun. In the dark, another naked monster, smaller than the previous one, crawled over on all fours towards (Reader), chest heaving like he was sniffing the air. He approached (Reader) who still couldn't find their gun, and cautiously tapped on their goggles, searching their masked face with deep, sunken eyes. His mouth was split open, showing off his jagged, saw like teeth. This monster was about the size of the first one before it molted.

It continued open mouth sniffing (Reader's) head, almost making them vomit by it's rotting body odor, when suddenly it flinched, whipping his head up to see the bigger creature climbing down head first into the pit. The younger looking monster grabbed (Reader's) face tightly, pressing his hands against their mouth and squeezing, forcing them to hold their breath.

Sweat felt like lice as out dripped down the fine hairs on (Reader's) neck. They hadn't prepared to be holding in their air, so they were already beginning to feel light headed. The larger monster paused halfway down, sniffing hard into their air before screeching at the smaller creature. He howled in response, still keeping his hands in place on (Reader's) face. (Reader) understood that the two were communicating, and that it seemed like the smaller monster was on their side, because soon the killer turned around and retreated back up, more than likely to kill more of (Readers) brothers and last remaining sister.

After a painful amount of time, he removed his hands, and (Reader) wasted no time grabbing their walkie. "Hello? Does anyone read me?" They whispered frantically.

"(Reader), we found more bodies-"

"Jackson and Adams are dead, possibly Davis and Jones as well."

"Jesus.."

"We found the monster in a large tent covering what looks to be a dig site. I was thrown into a hole, broke my left arm, lost my gun, and possibly sprained both ankles." (Reader) swallowed their rising bile, watching the monster mimic their movements. "Don't breathe. If you hear rustling, don't breathe. The monsters can see, but I think they find their victims through their breath or something."

"What? Wait, did you just say monsters?"

"There's a smaller one here in the hole with me. I think he saved my life. The one from the attic is much bigger now, this other one is still small. He made me hold my breath and it made the bigger one leave me alone."

"Jesus, alright. That sounds crazy. But.. look, just stay there, we'll be there soon. Can you see a way out?"

"No. No ropes or ladders down here."

"'Kay. Stay quiet, call back if that thing down there tries to attack you. Even if we can't get you out, I can at least throw you down a weapon."

"Thanks. Stay safe up there."

(Reader) leaned back, the pain settling in as the fight or fight response cooled down. They groaned in pain. The monster hopped up, crawling back over to inspect (Reader).

"Curious little monkey, aren't ya?" (Reader) panted, becoming nervous at how he sniffed the air excitedly as they did so. He crept back over, becoming far too close again, and starting touching their mask and goggles, confused. Long sharp claws reached under the mask and pulled it down, startling himself. He retreated to the other side of the pit while whimpering.

"Hey, that was just my mask." (Reader) tried to console him. They didn't know if it was because he saved them, or if because he acted like a scared child, but they weren't nearly as scared of him as they were the other one. Seeing that it was just a piece of fabric, and not (Reader's) face accidentally being ripped off, he shuffled back over, rubbing his dirty fingers across their lips.

He tapped his nails across their teeth, pulling open their lips carefully, feeling their jaw and chin, running his hands over every little bump and scrape. Learning that the bottom half of (Reader's) face had been covered by a mask emboldened him to tug on the goggles, coaxing (Reader) into removing them, leaving them completely blind in the dark. His breath tickled their face as he shuddered, purring deep in the back of his throat as he placed his nose on (Reader's) forehead, pressing into them in an almost cat-like manner, smelling them and rubbing his oily skin over (Reader's) entire face.

Uncomfortable by their lack of vision, (Reader) replaced their goggles, much to the monster's dismay. "I need these. Protection." They put back on the mask as well, ignoring his whines of disapproval.

Dirt fell onto (Reader) as Rodriguez stepped near the opening. "You still alive?" She stage whispered down into the chasm.

"Yeah. Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah. I think with the footage we got, and the documents, they'll understand if we don't take any bodies back with us." Her words were harsh, but (Reader) knew she was just as distraught as they were. "Your gun's up here, want me to throw it down?"

"No. I'm guessing you didn't find a ladder?"

"No."

"Then I'll try to climb out."

"Didn't you say your arm was broken?"

"Unless you killed that other creature, it's too dangerous to hang around here." (Reader) readied themselves to climb, immediately hissing as they grabbed into the dirt. The monster panicked, growling at (Reader). But they didn't stop, kicking a foot in, creating a hold, and pulling up. White hot pain flashed through their body.

An arm grabbed them around their waist, and swung (Reader) around; the monster had picked them up like a sack over his shoulder, and began climbing the wall with one arm.

"Jesus Christ." Rodriguez grabbed at (Reader) as soon as they were within reach, yanking them away from the monster. He snarled in response, trying to cover (Reader) with his body, but (Reader) wearily pat him on the head, trying to show that they were fine. He calmed down, but still glared at Rodriguez suspiciously. "What the hell are you?"

"Where's the rest of us?" (Reader) questioned, only now seeing that Rodriguez was alone.

"Only one other guy made it, Davis. He was fucked up when we found him, I got him in the van."

"I'm sorry.."

"It wasn't your fault. Let's go." Rodriguez helped (Reader) to their feet, handing them their gun, and the three left the tent.

Bodies of (Reader's) mates were in pieces, littering the ground with organs. Everyone was wrinkled. Whatever blood hadn't spilled on the ground while being murdered appeared to have been siphoned from their bodies, the chunks nearly mummified. The two soldiers watched their new companion as they snuck back through the outpost, using him like a blood hound to sense if his more dangerous relative was near. There were moments when he would pause, a frightened look crossing his face as he clung to (Reader), and both humans would hold their breath, desperately clinging to the faith that this monster was actually trying to save them.

The sun was still hours away from rising, and horror movie plots drifted through (Reader's) mind, pondering what kind of creature was clinging to their arm at that moment, and what could possibly kill it. (Reader) sped up their pace, rushing to the driver's side door as Rodriguez pulled the unwilling monster into the back with her, wrestling him as he tried to follow (Reader).

Each team leader had a spare key for the truck, so it didn't matter who drove it back, but Rodriguez did have more hands on experience with first aid, so it made sense for her to be in the back with the barely conscious Davis during the ride, just in case his health took a turn for the worse.

The van started up, worryingly loud in the silent town. (Reader) pulled off their goggles and flipped on the lights, flooring the gas as they took off, knowing it was no use trying to be quiet at that point. From the back of the van, the monster started crying.

"Hey, something's wrong with this thing!" Rodriguez called out to (Reader), before the entire van shook under the weight of something dropping onto the roof. "Shit!"

Without thinking, (Reader) spun the wheel to the left, throwing the bloody monster off their vehicle and sending him tumbling into the road. He was able to shake off the fall, standing upright and staring at (Reader) from the road. Now without the night vision, (Reader) saw him clearly in the headlights, the difference between his brown armored shell pieces, and the mammal like skin, almost paper thin in the light, pulsated with the blood of (Reader's) teammates and the doctors they were sent to find. The skin was stretched tight over how swollen he was, growing to almost twice its natural size.

"Hold on!" (Reader) barked, speeding towards the man in the road.

His head snapped forward as his chest connected with the grill, bouncing off the hood as (Reader) drug him back towards the buildings, driving him towards the house with the rec room. (Reader) kept on full speed until they crashed into the wall. Blood splashed across the wall and van as the monster popped under the force of the collision.

"Shit! Are we good?"

The body twitched a few times, choking on it's stolen blood as it feebly clawed at the metal crushing it before falling still, finally dying. "Yeah. We're good."

Back at the base, it was a horrifying shock for the troops awaiting their return, guns raised and pointed at the young monster they brought with them, however, they didn't shoot, as he held onto (Reader) tightly, making no move to attack anyone. They uploaded their body cam footage, corroborating their testimonies of what they saw, save for Davis, who was rushed back to the hospital wing for emergency surgery. (Reader) and Rodriguez were also eventually treated for their injuries, Rodriguez only needing a couple of stitches and getting diagnosed with a concussion, while (Reader) had their arm placed in a cast, and both ankles had to be wrapped up for compression to fight the mild puffiness.

The two sat next to each other, finally alone after the military dragged their monstrous savior away. "God, I need a shower." The dark haired woman complained, sniffing her hair that had been let down. Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I smell like those things."

"Ha. Yeah, like rotting fruit."

"Rotting raspberries. So gross." Rodriguez's forced smile melted, incapable of pretending to feel relief. "Why do you think he saved you?"

Clashing with the smell of the sanitized hospital and the saline aftertaste from the IV drip, (Reader) could still smell the pungent scent of the monster on their body, just as Rodriguez pointed out. "I don't know."

"What do you think those things are? Vampires?"

The image of Adam's limp body sliding off of a thin spike resurfaced in (Reader's) mind, making them nauseous. "I don't think so." They leaned forward, scooting closer towards Rodriguez. "I didn't see your body cam video.. did you see mine?"

"No. Why?"

"Did any of the bodies- I mean, this is going to sound.." they sighed, licking their lips and trying again. "When I entered that tent, with the hole, I found the monster with Adams. It had.. torn off her clothes, and it looked like he was.. stabbing her abdomen, with a claw out of his pelvis."

Except for the normal hospital beeping, (Reader's) words left the atmosphere feeling far too silent. "Are you saying it raped her?"

"I don't know.. maybe. Did you see any other naked bodies?"

"..no." They both laid back, exhausted, and frightened. "But if you're thinking that it could tell she was a woman, why weren't we attacked? I mean, I know you're not a woman, but if those things went by smell or pheromones.. I don't even know what I'm saying." She drug her dirty hands over her face.

"Maybe because our's is a kid. I mean, he's the size of that first monster before it molted, so maybe he isn't.. sexually mature?"

Before Rodriguez could think of a response to that a doctor came in, asking to see her out in the hallway. "I'll be right back." She promised, patting (Reader's) shoulder as she left the room.

(Reader) nestled back into the thin pillow and accidentally fell asleep while waiting for their friend to return, the awful rotting smell never fading.

It wasn't until a banshee worthy scream echoed throughout the hospital that (Reader) woke up, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was 19:31, revealing that they had slept through an entire day, and that Rodriguez was not in the room with them. Something down the hall shattered, followed by another terrified shout. Unarmed and now incapacitated, the only course of action their adrenaline flooded mind could think up on the fly was to hide, ripping out their IV and sliding under the cot, hidden from view by the crossing metal bars and plastic barrier.

Footsteps passed by (Reader's) door. They took a deep breath, holding their face to keep in their air. The door opened and whoever it was entered the room. (Reader) was only capable of seeing the bare feet painted in blood as they stepped closer to the bed. The bloody individual leaned on the mattress above (Reader), pressing their weight into it, before stepping away, touching other things around the room. Blood dripped onto the tiles from the drenched body. (Reader) began shaking, trying not to take a breath as they waited for the thing to leave, tearing up at the possibility of it being the creature they willingly brought back with them. The feet disappeared from view, then they heard the door close. Still, just to be safe, (Reader) kept their hands to their mouth for a few more seconds, unable to hear if he left because of the blood rushing through their ears. Quietly, they released the lungful of air and slowly sucked new air back in.

A hand grabbed one of their swollen ankles and pulled (Reader) out from under the bed. In the dim light of the flashing buttons, (Reader) saw the freshly molted monster, smiling down at them with blood coating their face and dribbling from their lips.

"No!" A casted fist attempted to punch him, but he caught it, rubbing the puffy fingers against his face affectionately. He leaned down, rubbing his nose across their face like he had done back when he had first saved them, sniffing loudly. (Reader) began sobbing, knowing what would happen to them after Adams. The thin hospital gown was easily ripped off, pleasing the monster who made that purr-like rumble in the back of his throat, still smiling.

A long, thinly tipped aedeagus unfurled itself, curved and sharp, just like (Reader) remembered it looking.

"Please don't.. please.. I don't want to die!"

Their words weren't understood by the monster, too busy rubbing (Reader's) side. He laid down beside them, hugging (Reader) tightly as he positioned himself, still sniffing their neck as he did so. Between (Reader's) pleas a stinging pain entered their side as he pushed his hypodermic penis into their midsection.

The sound of pain (Reader) made was unlike anything they had ever made, or heard, before. Incapable of jerking away because of his hold on them, he continued making noises of pleasure, rolling his hips as he pressed deeper, splurting blood as he wiggled back and forth inside of them, trying not to puncture anything important until he could get deep enough to what he needed.

His prick pierced (Reader's) uterus, the burning torture as they felt something inside getting stabbed was hell. Their eyes rolled back as his hips rubbed sensually against their side, unable to hold on as they began to pass out. He screeched horrifically, scratching (Reader) as his grip constricted happily, cumming straight into (Reader's) uterus. Even after they fell limp in his arms, his fluids continued pouring out, overfilling the poor organ; his elastic liquid solidifying near the hole like a polyp.

Contrary to what (Reader) thought, the monster who caressed their body was intelligent. He was far smarter than his brother, who had been so desperate to implant his seed he fucked that poor woman to death, not taking into account that human females hadn't evolved to handle the method of reproduction that their species used. Even their own could die if they mated multiple times, so he really should have been more careful. He held onto (Reader) dreamily, using their gown to stop the bleeding as he pulled out. He took the time to ensure nothing was damaged inside his wonderful little mate, so the only bleeding he had to worry about was the skin. Some of his sperm clung to the tip of his needle like cock, so he rubbed it across (Reader's) face as they laid unconscious, just so that if another male of his species did somehow follow them, the could smell that (Reader) had already been claimed.

When he was searching the hospital for (Reader) he had seen stitching, and learned what it was for by watching a doctor from afar before killing him and the patient. It wasn't too difficult to figure out.

(Reader) would live. It would hurt, but imagine how happy they'll be when they awake to find themselves pregnant! It made him purr with joy, wondering how many children he'd have with his beautiful human.

After all, unlike humans, his species only needed to fuck once and their sperm would survive inside the host body for years, creating a kind of sac to plug up the hole in the uterus and protect the sperm from the forming infants, releasing sperm whenever there is a vacancy in the uterus to immediately impregnate the host again.

His mate shifted under the needle in their sleep as he fixed them up. It brought him such pride, imagining that he could almost see them becoming pregnant at that very moment. He knew from the second he smelled (Reader) down in the dirt he was unburied from that he was born to be their mate~

[whiskeyskin]

Make Me Feel

Premise: What's that? The well trodden trope of weird potion creates problems of the - ahem - 🍆 variety? Well if you insist.

• Astarion x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating

They/them pronouns, Potion mishap!, interrupted masturbation, handjob, bj/deep throat, embarrassment, tone shift, mild canon trauma discussion, connection, enthusiastic consent, communication, dirty talk.

4.1k words

Edit: RAHHH! You're all so wonderful for getting me over 200 notes 😚 it may be a small number for some but to me it's a lot. Love you! 🥹🖤

Editedit: Over 400 notes?! Excuse me as I ugly cry 😭😭😚✨

Thank @northernolddragon for the beautiful screenshot 💜🥵

•°•°•

Tav was on watch with Shadowheart this evening, not that they really needed to with Gale's wards keeping an alarm on things coming in or out of camp but they all slept better with a night watch.

They'd enjoyed company and conversation as they spoke about everything and nothing. Mostly about Tav, since Shadowheart had very little memories to share.

A friendship had steadily grown with them, so much that she'd revealed herself a Sharron - which wasn't really a shock.

A low alarm pulsed and they went to investigate to the left of camp but after a little cooperation between Tav's survival skills and Heart's perception, concluded that an animal had triggered the alarm - hence the low pulse and the fresh animal tracks belonging to a rabbit.

Tav paused a moment, a thought flashing across their mind. They called to Shadowheart, "Hey, did you hear Astarion come back in from hunting?

"No, he didn't go out tonight. Said, 'he had something else to attend to'."

Again, Tav paused. Oh, shit. Had they promised he could feed tonight and completely forgotten?

"Are you supposed to be 'dining tonight'?" Shadowheart asked through a smirk.

"I don't think so.. maybe? Oh, gods. Maybe I did say." Said Tav, trying to think back on the day.

"Go check on him, see if he's waiting up for a midnight snack. I'll stay on watch." She pursed her lips and swished her long braid as she walked to do a patrol of the camp.

~~~

Tav quietly made their way passed the tents of their companions, who were softly - or loudly - snoring. Astarion's tent however still had a candle going and made no sounds of sleep, or revery but rather stranger noises. Hissing sounds from the side of his mouth and what seemed like a painful gasp.

Their brow creased with concern, Tav stepped up to the entrance of his tent. The noises intensified.

"Astarion?" Tav called through the fabric in a hushed whisper, "Are you alright?"

A choked noise of frustration replied to them first, "Uh-yes. I'm perfectly fine. Why do ask?" He retorted a little too sharply, despite his usual lulling tones.

"Shadowheart said you hadn't gone hunting and I couldn't remember if I'd agreed to let you feed tonight."

"Ah, you're such a sweetheart.. while I always delight in our little nightly visits, I've rather got my hands full with something at the moment." He strained, like he was in pain. Something wasn't right.

"Astarion. What's going on? I know something's wrong. What is it? What have you done?" Tav asked, exasperated.

"Ughh, it's nothing just-Arghh" he let out a muffled cry.

"I'm coming in." Tav announced, pushing their way inside the dimly lit interior.

"No, no, don't!" But it was too late.

Tav's mouth flew to their face, shocked at the view.

There, on the floor, in only his ruffled shirt and barely covered in his grotty blanket was Astarion. Although, the blanket was more of tent itself with what it was shielding.

"Oh! Oh, shit. Sorry-sorry! I'll leave." Tav blustered at the sight of the half naked pale elf on the floor before them. They'd clearly not been sounds of pain, and the frustration was aimed at them not leaving him to masturbate in peace.

"No, stay. Please." He croaked, desperate, "I don't know what else to do; I need your help."

"With what?" Tav questioned, averting their eyes to afford him some sort of privacy.

"I appreciate the gallantry but we can do away with the charade, you know what I was doing." He sulked, shifting his weight to sit up, the ruffles on his shirt bristling as he heaved himself upwards.

Tav's eyes tracked the movement and flitted down to the protrusion, unwavering in it's vigil against the thin protection of his grey comfort rag.

Hot flashes of memories seared their mind; remembering how it felt in their hands, hot and cool at the same time. Harder than rock as he'd moved within them, expertly stroking their sweet spot while feeding openly on their blood.

Tav bit their lip, then jolting back to the situation, looked away.

"Um, you said you needed my help. I don't know how I can-"

"I have been.. doing this to myself for the past three hours. It's incessant."

"Jeez, Astarion. I don't need to know that."

"Not for my own selfish good. I-" he growled to himself, it made Tav's stomach flip uncomfortably, "I drank something. It looked like a normal potion, but it tasted a bit off.. and now, this." He gestured to the distinct lump, "It's unbearable and painful if it's not being.. used." He paused, discomfort clear on his face.

A blush flooded Tav's cheeks, "Aaand, you want me to help by..?" They trailed, needing more explanation. Because if he was suggesting what they thought he was suggesting...

"Ugh, I don't know. This obviously isn't helping! Find something that can? Another potion, a spell? Anything!" He waved his arms helplessly into the air.

Astarion looked up at them; his shirt in disarray, his legs gently folded with the blanket tucked between them, with guilty but adamant eyes. He looked helpless and adorable.

A feeling was stirring in Tav's chest, something rumbling and loud but it wasn't arousal, it was laughter. They caught a snicker behind their hand, trying to hold in their amusement.

Astarion's face changed to surprise, with a big frown cutting across his beautiful features.

"Well, thanks a lot. Glad the bleeding heart thinks it's funny." He pouted.

"Oh, come on Astarion. It's pretty funny."

Astarion's eyes narrowed, "How precisely is this funny?" He demanded.

"It's so unfunny that it's funny again. It has to be laughed at how ridiculous this is. I mean, come on." They tried to explain, "you drank a strange elixir and now you have an erection that won't fuck off." Tav barely made it through the last word without sniggering, "You've been beating yourself stupid and it's not going anywhere. It's a fucking ridiculous situation to be in and if you can't laugh about it? Fuck." They shrugged, smiling brightly and encouraging him to see the funny side of this ridiculousness, "I thought you said Lae'zel was the one with no sense of humour."

"Actually, Lae'zel is hilarious. She just doesn't realise she's being hilarious," The frown on his face softened, a smile clearly fighting to spread across his face, "I suppose it is absurd. Most men would kill for this."

"Most people would pay good money for this problem!" Tav squeaked, "Oh gods, the old men that have given all their gold for this problem!" They whined out before coming down to kneel on the floor.

"All of them furiously masturbating to get rid of it after their mistress has left and their wife will notice." He chuckled.

"Oh, the scandal." Tav flourished.

"What would the neighbours say?" He jested, opening up to the idea that the incredulity of it all needed to be laughed at.

He mimed trying to push it down only for it to spring back up with a pop sound effect provided by him and they fell about cackling together.

It was nice. Seeing him smile.

~~~

They sat laughing for a while, trying to come up with unfortunate scenarios to find yourself in with this predicament. Each as hilarious as the next.

Howls turned giggles, and giggles turned to titters, until eventually they were all laughed out.

There was a comfortable silence between them for several moments. Tav glanced back at him.

"Did that help? Taking your mind off it?" Tav asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid not. Still there. Although, it's taken away the urgency of needing that release."

"That's a start at least. What the hell's did you drink?"

"I don't know, it was in the pack from today's adventure with the hag."

"You drank one of the hag's potions?" Tav chided, incredulous.

"Of course not! What do you take me for?"

Tav raised their brows and wordlessly gestured to his lap.

"Point taken," he relented, "but, no it was a regular looking potion bottle. I needed a little healing, so I.." he trailed off, loosely waving a hand.

"You drank a random potion from today, before we'd had a chance to examine it and expected nothing to go wrong. You brought this on yourself." Tav pursed their lips mockingly.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, dear. What am I going to do?" He asked, exasperated.

"Well, masturbating yourself sore hasn't worked, so it can't be about orgasming it out of you."

"Oh, I haven't orgasmed. That's what I was trying to tell you before, but in my feverish haze didn't get out into words properly."

"After three hours?" Tav asked, wide eyed.

"It was more stop/start than powering through. I'm drawing the assumption that while this potion grants me this bloody thing, it doesn't heighten the sensation much."

"Maybe it deadens it? To keep it going longer? That's why you couldn't.. yuh know." Tav mimed the action for affect. They shared a small titter through their noses.

"I haven't a clue. Although, I'm not really.. versed in this sort of thing. It's not something I do, not something I've done for centuries," he admitted, shrugging, "Self pleasure wasn't high on the list when the thought of touching anyone, let alone yourself made your skin crawl-" Astarion caught himself, his eyes widening.

Tav's mouth gaped, "What?" The question came out breathy and low. Hurt struck painfully into their heart, "So the night we spent together you were disgusted-"

"-No. No. Well, at first it I was a little but-"

Tav's eyed widened and they recoiled, wounded. He knew he'd revealed too much and Tav could see that flawless mask of his was trying to slot back into place after it's momentary lapse.

"Don't." Tav urged, "Don't pretend you didn't say it."

"It wasn't like that-I didn't mean you, you're wonderful. I meant in Baldur's Gate with Cazador. The manipulation, the deceit. I couldn't. I never." He stopped himself.

Tav softened, the harm still stinging but this was important. Astarion had never spoken about his time with Cazador apart from being a slave and using sex to lure people back. He hadn't elaborated more than those facts. Obviously, he would have sexual trauma.. and he'd opened up a chance at the conversation.

"It's alright. I'm here to listen. Go on." Their tone was low and understanding.

His face full of uncertainty and shame, Astarion shook his head and refused to look at them.

"I don't want to. Not yet. Not now. I mean.. I just want this thing gone." He motioned to his still swollen member.

Tav's brow knitted and they shrugged heavily.

"Apart from distracting you from it, I don't know what I can do." Tav raised their hands in exasperation, "I mean if you can't do it after three hours, what am I supposed to do-"

"Trust me, you'd be able to help." He said darkly, almost to himself. His gaze darted back, scared by another accidental confession. Tav's confused expression must have been clearly legible.

"What do you mean?"

Astarion averted his eyes, clearly debating on letting more of his secrets out.

"Shit." He cursed. There was a pregnant pause that Tav refused to break.

"You-" he stopped himself, "the other night at the party was- it was-" he shut his eyes and sighed through his nose, "I can't do this, you can leave. I'll just keep this forever."

"Astarion.." Tav said softly, gently reached a reassuring hand to the floor beside him.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed.

"It was the first time I've known actual pleasure in almost 200 years. Where I actually enjoyed myself, much to my surprise."

Suddenly feeling relieved and very flattered, Tav remained stone-faced silent, encouraging him to keep going.

"My existence has been about having my body used to lure back pretty things for him. To get them to trust me and let their guard down, then.." he trailed off, "I tried to make the most of it and relish in the copious amounts of sex I was having.. It didn't last long. I got extremely good at pretending I did, they never suspected a thing." He said with a sneer.

"I became numb to the entire experience. It was nothing to me. A dance. A deception. It became second nature and I got used to the disgust I felt, I used it to push through. To hold onto some semblance that I had one shred of humanity left. As long as I despised myself for what I was doing, there was still hope."

"So imagine my shock when I actually felt something different with you. Something good." He finally looked in their eyes, "You are a bastion of firsts in this newfound freedom of mine. My first true blood, the first person who has let me indulge in my instincts and helped me grow in my power," Astarion swallowed, "the first person in so long to make feel something.. anything.. during sex that wasn't hatred and self-loathing."

Tav's throat closed and tears threatened to brim but they blinked them back.

"You offered your neck to me, your life blood to me and I felt something.. it wasn't like our usual feeds.. it was something immense.. something transcendant and I.. I lost myself in you.. wholly. Pleasure had returned to my body and I froze. I didn't know what to do."

"Nothing else existed outside us.. and I could have spent the rest of my life buried inside you," he paused, closing his eyes as if the memory over-powered him. Tav sat there, breathless, mesmerised by his beauty in the candle's soft glow.

"I think I came back to consciousness when I saw my seed over your beautiful body. You looked just as shocked as I felt. It was all over your chest, your mouth.." he was breathing heavily now and the air around them shifted. Tav swallowed dryly. They remembered.

The grunting, ecstatic moan he'd made just before he came over them echoed in their mind long after. They'd pulled back from lavishing his thick, pale cock to pause for breath and to whisper sweet words to him. He'd erupted on them with no more than a silent gasp and a hand fisted in their hair.

Staring deeply into Tav's eyes, Astarion continued, "You took me so well," he brought a hand to their bottom lip, grazing it lightly with his fingertips, "With your mouth.. with all of your holes, actually. Your wonderfully tight holes." He moaned through a sly smile.

Tav's mouth was aridly dry, as all the blood in their body rippled and pooled to their core. Heat radiated through them and quickly made breathing steadily a problem, and logical thinking was non-existent.

"I know you could do it again, if you wanted to." He closed his eyes and snaked himself closer against Tav's neck, inhaling deeply. His breath cool raising gooseflesh, as he pressed his lips against the shell of their ear, "You could wrap those soft lips around my cock and suck me like you did in the forest. So deep and so warm."

Tav's thoughts were like wading through thick, soupy mud as Astarion's words clouded their mind and flooded their body with desire.

"I've never been devoured quite like that, you fit yourself around me so well.. you were such a good f-"

Tav quickly brought their hand to his mouth. He had to be silenced. His seductive power was too much to leave unbridled.

Mentally shaking off his charms, Tav came some what back to their senses.

"In one breath you tell me how disgusted you are with sex and the next you say about wanting my 'tight holes'? What is it that you want, Astarion? You can't have it both ways."

"Of course I can, darling. Now I can. Things have changed. Lots of things. I have my body back and I decide what to do with it. And right now.." he moved with the lithe limbs of a panther to sidle himself beside them, the grey blanket gently pulling back to reveal his thick, swollen manhood. He exhaled at the softness leaving him, "I want.."

Tav swallowed hard, their lips parted. Another wave of euphoric desire swept over them as the cool touch of his skin ghosted against theirs.

Astarion reached over and grasped their hand and placed it on his engorged cock.

"This." He hissed as their skin finally touched, his cool hardness welcome in their palm.

Gods, he was so erect. The veins in his thick shaft pulsating. The velvet softness of him thrummed with desperate need.

He was so close to them, so close now.. they could kiss if he wanted them to. Astarion breathed against Tav's mouth, "Touch me."

He started to move both their hands in short bursts over the head of his penis, Astarion shuddered out a gasp and screwed his eyes shut, "Touch me. Please."

Tav willingly acquiesced, bending down to spit on his painfully erect cock and began to work.

He made a staggered, breathless moan as he leaned back on both hands, exposing himself to them. Tav pumped his rock hard length in a steady rhythm, remembering back to the Tiefling party that he had appreciated the gentle building of friction, to fruition.

His head was purple and looked sore from his abusing himself for so long in search of relief. Tav generated salvia in their mouth and spat on their other hand to use on him.

The sweetest moan they'd ever heard sang from Astarion's chest.

"Yes-yes-use your hands on me.. make me feel like before.. make me feel-" he gasped through the last word so ferociously he inadvertently bared his fangs.

Tav used their hands in symbiotic motion; pumping the bottom of his shaft with their non-dominant, while teasing and playing with the head between their deft fingers, all the while keeping his entirety slick in saliva.

Gods, they wanted to use their mouth on him properly. He looked so beautiful, unmasked before them. He had been so unexpectedly naked and raw with his past. Revealing hard and difficult truths regarding his lack of control, and autonomy of his own body.

And Tav had to respect that, no matter how aroused they were. They would show that his trust was placed rightly in them.

"Astarion?" They called softly to him.

He answered back with a broken, "Mhm?"

"Thank you for telling me what you did. I won't tell anyone else, you have my word."

"Mm-mm-thankyou, Tav." He managed, his voice tense.

Tav slowed their pace and Astarion let out a whine, balling up his fists in frustration.

"Don't pretend with me. Don't force it."

"I'm not, I swear." He gasped, looking directly at them, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

Tav smirked, "Promise you won't."

"Yes-yes, I promise. Please speed up again." He pleaded through gritted teeth, thumping his head back on the pillow.

"I will. But I'd like to use my mouth on you aswell, would that be okay?"

He let out a pent up huff of air, "Oh gods yes, yes, yes-please use that gorgeous mouth on me. Swallow me. Take me."

Tav smiled and quickly got into position, propped between his legs, "I'd also like to play with your testicles, if that's agreeable."

Astarion wrenched his red hot eyes open, making contact with theirs again. Tav irked a suggestive brow.

A devilish grin crossed his face, once again his fangs shone in the dim candle light, "Oh, my dear. That would be most agreeable." He purred through steadier breaths now they had paused.

"One request from me though; don't push my head down, I don't like it. I'll respect your wishes and you respect mine. Deal?"

"Deal." He smiled and reached down to collect his shirt up to reveal his pale, chiseled body. Tav looked hungrily at his toned flesh, desperate to snake it with their tongue.

They took a breath to ask but Astarion interrupted, "Yes, gods please yes! Lick me, kiss me, bite me, suck it. Do what you want with me.. I'll tell you to stop if it's too much."

"I'll hold you to that." They crooned with a serious edge, as they spat on their hand again, then manoeuvred themselves to be able to kiss his beautiful body, and pump the head simultaneously.

He twitched at the increase in contact and laughed hungrily through strained teeth, "Uhhgh, fuck yes."

Tav lavished their lips and tongue across the defined muscles, gently sucking and nibbling occasionally for added sensation. They kissed and dragged their tongue up and down the V in his hips, paying equal and excruciating mind to each side, making Astarion moan and buck.

Tav firmly pressed kisses on the creases of his pelvis, breathing hot over the area. They took their time, languishing over his form with their mouth, exploring the contours of his hips and thighs with their spare hand. Astarion groaned in vexation.

"Ooh, don't tease me. Please."

"The potion is making you impatient. You enjoyed this last time." Tav reminded him.

"It's not the bloody potion-Gods above-AUGH-I'm asking nicely. Don't keep me waiting any longer, I've already been edged enough. Show me-make me feel-let me feel-"

Astarion gasped as Tav collected the precum that bloomed at his tip, and licked their fingers clean, before deftly angling themselves to engulf his thick cock as much as they could.

The noises that were illicited from the pale elf were unlike any they'd ever heard before - strained and trembling, through gritted teeth and grounded fists - and the sloppy, wet sounds that their mouth made around his unyielding cock were intentionally and debaucherously pornographic.

Momentarily retreating, they began flicking their tongue over the slit, Tav moaned from the back of their throat like he was a tall mug of water quenching debilitating thirst. One hand holding his length steady, the other lightly grazing his testes.

Astarion's thighs fluttered and tensed, as Tav heard a smile through his own moan, "Ooh, that's new."

"Mhm."

Gathering more sleek, Tav ran the flat of their tongue up the smooth underplane of Astarion's cock from base to tip, and encircled the head. His member twitched unconsciously as he let out a warm, low rumble from his chest.

"Is that alright? Not too much?" Tav asked, checking in. They kissed the crease of his frenulum, while nimbly massaging and squeezing his sac.

"Mm-mhm-yes. I'm gaining quite an appetite for your skills in this area." He cooed, shifting underneath them, "but I remember a rather more deeper approach last time."

Tav grinned at his less than subtle request, "Oh, my darling. We're just warming up.. but if you're ready for more. I will, of course.. oblige."

Unhinging their jaw like a snake preparing to consume their pray, Tav gorged on the willing partner in front of them.

Astarion sucked in a gasp and Tav felt a hand on the back of their head briefly, before being removed hastily. Tav heard his fist pound into the bedroll beside him. They moaned in thanks, vibrating against his solid shaft.

He replied with a deep rumble from his chest, "Yes.. that's what I've been missing. This is what I needed.."

Bobbing and dipping, taking just a little more in their mouth each time. Sucking and stroking his perfect length. Their mouth salivated and filled with lubricant, anticipating the meal in front of them. Meeting their lips on their pumping fist, working together harmoniously.

Tav relaxed their throat further and began swallowing the last length of him, valiantly suppressing the need to gag until it would afford the most pleasure. They flattened their tongue and swallowed, sucked and gagged as Astarion whimpered and moaned, unconsciously jerking. Tav placed a hand on his hips to steady him, to not ruin the mood by choking unexpectedly.

They pressed down just above his pubic bone as their lips bottomed out against him, tears forming wet stains under their eyes at the challenge of taking his full size. Tav gulped and gasped against his cock, enveloping him with their tongue and throat working in tandem, coating him in liquid slick. The debased, vile sounds coming from their meeting wet and loud and hot as the hells; pushing him higher, dragging him under, coercing him to cum.

He gasped and raised his head to look down at them. Tav met his tear-streaked, claret gaze, with their own.

"Ohh-yes-yes-look at me as you devour my cock-take it all the way down your throat-such a good-nasty-AHH-YES!" He gargled the last word through moans and his hips pulsated and thrust wantonly as he bunched his shirt in his hand, the other fisted around his greyed rag blanket.

His brows creased, his face wracked with pleasure and pain. His face contorted and twisted as he writhed and moaned. He panted and heaved and shook his head from side to side.

Concern furrowed their brow at his expressions, while he seemed to be "enjoying himself", they were reminded of his words from their conversation, that his sexual conquests couldn't tell that he was pretending.

Tav pulled back to breathe through their nose. They reached out with the tadpole and gently stroked his mind, seeking reassurance that this was what he wanted. That he wasn't pretending. That this was real. That this was what he wanted.

That enthusiastic consent was all they required.

"Yesyesyesyes-oh gods-please don't stop-choke on my cock till you can't breathe-ARH-going to cum down your throat and taste myself on your tongue-fuck!-fuck my hard cock deep in your throat-do it-do it-doit-doit-doit" he repeated, trailing off in whimpers against his soiled comfort blanket.

This was a challenge that they would unabashedly attempt to conquer. They had no idea if they could; he hadn't fed on them this time and the potion was an unknown quantity for help, or hindrance. They had no idea. But damned if they weren't going to try. Tav steeled themself and took a deep breath.

They made no illusions at a slow build in tension, they went straight for the kill.

Straining down his hard length to the hilt, making the most illicit and disgusting sodden noises as they consumed him, squeezing him with the throat that tried to resist his intrusion.

Astarion growled and whined and shook with the tension in his body coiled so tightly.

Tav stretched their jaw to lap their tongue against his balls, which tightened due to the expected feeling. He rewarded their efforts with another mumbled, half coherent onslaught of praise and explicit desires.

They re-applyed the pressure on his pubus, pushing down firmly against his taut skin.

A breathless gasp shot from his throat as the hand bunched in his shirt now flew to grasp their hand with choruses of, "yes-yes-yes!"

He was so close, they could feel it. His precum tainted the back of their throat. His jaw was tight and his glistening fangs were bared.

Tav remembered back once more to what had unexpectedly tipped him over the edge when they'd made him cum the last time.

Concentrating hard on keeping the fast-paced rhythm, tears streaming from their eyes, they flipped their hand to hold his properly.

Tav reached out through their connection and whispered, "I've got you, Astarion.. you're safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.. I have you.. Cum, Astarion.. cum, my love."

Astarion stilled, his every muscle contracting and seizing, his chest rising off the floor as his spine curved.

A gentle, surprised gasp escaped from his mouth. He squeezed their hand so tightly as their name died on his lips.

Suddenly Tav felt warmth shoot against the back of their throat as he came hot and quick, filling their mouth and spilling out the sides and he thrust wildly, unable to control his movements. His cries of pleasure muted and gasping.

Tav gagged and slowed to a gentler pace, swallowing him down. Astarion twitched and quivered as they saw him through his climax; still holding each others hand.

His soft, whimpering groans dissolved into laboured heaves as he relaxed into the lull of his orgasm.

A moan shuddered from him as Tav expertly extracated his thankfully - slightly - softening member from their stretched throat.

They tenderly cleaned him up with their tongue, as there was quite a lot that had spilled from his heavy, metallic-tanged load, while Astarion lay there in stunned silence.

Tav dried their eyes and gently rested their chin on his thigh and sighed deeply, their hands still joined on his stomach.

They kissed his cool skin, "Are you alive up there?" Tav asked, jokingly.

Silence.

If he wasn't already dead, they'd have thought he'd died.

"Astarion?"

"M'alive." He mumbled in a stupor.

"Good." Tav said through a wry smile.

They looked to their left where his cock was already starting to swell again and sighed.

"I don't think it worked, you're getting hard again."

Still nothing.

Tav furrowed their brow, "Do you hear me up there?"

Still nothing.

Starting to worry, Tav raised themselves up and started padding their way one-handed up towards his face. His crimson eyes were fixed on ceiling of the tent, drying tears still streaked down his temples.

"Are you alright? Was it too much?" Tav asked, worried they'd gone too far.

He finally blinked.

"My body feels like it's.. weightless and.. empty. My head feels like.. I've been zapped with a.. shocking grasp.. and my ears are ringing." His tone was high and dazed. His every move tinged with exhaustion. His expression one of pure contentment.

He was fully in an afterglow bubble. That was better than potentially traumatised.

Tav pursed their lips with pride, "Sounds like a good orgasm then. Was it?" They asked, feigning innocence.

Astarion gave a long blink and turned his gaze to Tav, who lay to the side of him.

"You've rendered me paralsyed. I think we can call that a success, don't you?"

Tav chuckled, "Well, a semi-success. You've still got your problem." They gestured a thumb towards his now alarming erection again.

"Oh no, that's not the potion. That's me."

Tav jerked their neck in questioning confusion, "Eh?"

"I'm laying here sprawled on the floor after one of the best orgasms of my long life. Two of whom have been granted by you.. and the only thing I can think of.. is that I need to do that again."

Tav bit their bottom lip through a grin spreading across their face.

"But we said that that night was a one-time thing and this is an extraordinary circumstance.. this isn't supposed to-"

His pale pink lips came up to capture their first kiss of the night and from the passion and force behind it, it was not to be their last.

Astarion slid his fingers to their umber trousers and cupped them through the fabric. Tav gasped against his mouth as they twitched within his grasp, the damp spot of their arousal staining their clothes. They sucked in Astarion's bottom lip into their mouth and cursed.

"Well, apparently that arrangement needs to be renegotiated." He smirked, as he kissed them deeply, sweeping his tongue to taste himself there.

He brought his hand to the buckle, "And these definitely need to come off."

•°•°•

Psst.. hey..👋 you want some more smut? 👀

[val-cansalute]

Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?

Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>

WREATHE

warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account tho😏

a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😰 thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i don’t think i’d be good at doing hcs 😭 i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly won’t put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excited…

ramadan has started which means israel’s violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if you’re religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. don’t let people forget. here’s a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe 💗.

10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. You’re slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.

The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.

Ellie must’ve gone to bed early today.

You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.

When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellie’s figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.

You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.

For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellie’s deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.

Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering close for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into the crook of your shoulder.

Then, there’s a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellie’s puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that you’re home setting, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.

A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.

A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,

“Hey, babe,” accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.

“Hey, Els.”

You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Hm? Nothin’…”

You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,

“Ya sure there? You want somethin’, babe?”

A playful scoff and she’s looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,

“Can’t I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,”

“I’d say we’re pretty close, ya know?”

“Never close enough,” you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till she’s face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.

“Alright, alright!”

“One more- mwah,” she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.

Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,

“Never close enough,” and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.

It’s like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.

As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellie’s foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,

“You sure you don’t want anything, baby?” and you’re asleep.

also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah 😆😆):

[cammys-imagines24]

•Sleeping Beside Ellie•

°•Night•°

By the time you and Ellie are getting ready for bed she's pretty beat.

Her day no doubt full, what with going on patrols, working around Jackson and the everyday stress of living in the apocalypse.

To unwind you two have dinner together and watch a cheesy 80's movie.

But once you get into your pj's and she's stripped off to her sports bra and boxers, she's clocked out.

Course Ellie is always up for a little cuddle action, if only to get a chance to feel you up. Just a little.

Just because she can.

Her calloused hands always seeming to find a way to sneak underneath your shirt, feeling the warmth of your bare skin.

Her lips kissing your forehead as you nestle into the crook of her neck.

Now if you're really sweet or offer up a decent joke, Ellie will sing for you.

A soft lullaby of sorts, composed of her own lyrics. Her heavenly voice a balm to you.

Transcending you further into a blissful state and with her arms around you, her dulcet melody playing in your mind...

You think, if you should die right now you'd die happy.

On many a contented night you've fallen asleep to her voice. Your dreams satiated by her tuneful words.

°•Morning•°

Now when morning comes, you better not be an early riser because Ellie certainly isn't. In fact she's definitely the "just five more minutes" type of gal.

She will wrap her arms around your waist and put you in a vice grip. Her lithe muscles belying how strong she really is.

You're not moving until she tells you to.

You don't mind too terribly of course. In the golden light of dawn you occupy your time by gazing at your fast asleep love.

Tracing the slit in her brow, making constellations out of the freckles on her cheeks and nose, brushing the wispy strands of auburn off her pale forehead.

Your hands busy, touching the mottled ink of her tattoo which concealed the infected's bite mark.

Because Ellie doesn't get the best of sleep you enjoy the lull of these mornings, work around Jackson be damned.

And if she should awake with that familiar glint in her green eyes, well then you know what's in store for you.

On many occasion you two have been late for your duties because of the morning sessions where Ellie just has to have you.

And who are you to complain?

It's impossible to deny her when you're both still warm beneath the sheets and she's tugging your pajamas aside.

Her rough hands grabbing at you, pawing at your flesh. Her voice raspy and playful smirk evident.

°•Bad Dreams•°

Because of the nightmares of Joel that plague her, Ellie often has fitful, restless nights.

Nights where she tosses and turns. Ultimately waking with a sweat coated brow and a gasping breath.

Just the mere sight of you next to her is enough to calm her heart and bring her back to the present.

Ellie will stare at you, still sleeping so soundly and she'll fix your blankets before placing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head.

Though she may leave the bed during those sleepless nights, going to maybe play her guitar or write in her journal...

Ellie will always make sure that, when you awake in the morning, she is back in bed and you're waking in her arms.

Since she fears being alone most of all, she never, ever wants you to wake up without her there beside you.

Ellie is thankful for every nightfall and sunrise because of you.

Because she has you to love.

[emmcfrxst]

dick grayson x reader

word count: 444

warnings: fluff! sleepy, silly dick being a sweetheart, reader is described as having boobies but there are no given pronouns and no description besides that :-)

The sound of the shower starting is what wakes you from your slumber, bleary eyes trying to focus on the bright numbers displayed on your alarm clock. 4:50 AM. You’d fallen asleep waiting up for him again, but here he is, home at last and most of all: safe. Smiling to yourself, you sit up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with a tired fist. It isn’t long before the bathroom door opens and out comes a freshly showered Dick, a lovesick grin taking over his handsome features when he realizes you’re awake — he has long since given up on trying to get you to not wait up for him; he has learned to enjoy just how willing you are to spend time with him, including after he is done patrolling for the night.

He gives no warning before breaking into long strides, reaching your shared bed in the blink of an eye and immediately plopping himself on top of you, head on your chest.

“Hey there.” he mumbles happily, voice muffled by your breasts. You snort when he rubs his nose across the curve of them, your fingers sliding up his back to tangle into the wet curls of his hair.

“You did not just motorboat me.” you try to sound irritated but your boyfriend sees right through you, giggling to himself and squeezing you tenderly.

“M’sorry.” he does not even try to sound convincing, smiling against your skin and humming in delight when he feels your lips against the crown of his head.

“No you’re not. But you’re cute, so I’m willing to let it go just this one time.” you don’t bother hiding the smile in your voice, burying your nose into his hair and rubbing his back. He’s warm and solid above you, bruised knuckles running over your sides in a gentle touch. If you could freeze time, you would choose to do so during times like these; moments where Dick doesn’t have to be either Nightwing or Bruce Wayne’s son— where he can just be your Dick, your lover, your best friend, the one you can always count on for everything — where he can be his true, genuine self without hiding behind masks of vigilantism and appearances.

“You smell good. I love you.” he sounds far away, slowly lulled to sleep by your heartbeat, and you feel a deep, all encompassing affection for the man atop you. Kissing his head again, you smooth a hand over his clothed side, allowing your eyes to close once more.

Sleep will come to you easier now that you know he’s by your side, safe and sound and loved.