#he got read instead of getting salt

[junespriince]

Donna; Listen, D, there's people who are attracted to daddy's and there's you, attracted to fathers. *points at Roy and Wally and my never ending quest to make Wally have more kids then just the twins bec he is a dad idk what else to tell you he is father* and there's the tall woman you want to step on you *points at Star* ... okay know I see the vision on that one.

Dick: all I asked for was to pass the salt.

[levandright]

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 ‹𝟹

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — physical touchꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn reader! ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ fluff, est relationship ꕀ word count : 1082 ʬʬ go back to the start? ・ archive

ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : i had a lot of fun making this! the whole wyll drabble is my advanced celebration for (almost) 50 followers!! hope you guys like this <3

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡���

heesung loves to hold your waist. his hands will somehow always find a way there. but can you blame him? his hands fit perfectly around your waist, like pieces of a puzzle.

after a long day, your feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. heesung notices your quiet sighs and the way your shoulders seem to carry a little extra weight.

as you both stand in the hallway, he gently pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you snugly against him.

you relax into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder as he whispers softly, “i’m here, okay? you don’t have to go through this alone.”

his hands rest lightly but securely on your waist, grounding you. in that moment, his steady warmth eases your worries, and you feel safe, surrounded by his love and support.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

jay loves random touches, like brushing a stray hair away from your face or letting his hands linger on your cheek for a moment. these little actions convey so much affection and intimacy that words can't replicate.

you're sitting together in a sunlit park, surrounded by the gentle sounds of nature. as you share stories and laughter, you suddenly become quiet, lost in thought.

sensing your shift in mood, jay turns to you with a concerned look. instead of asking directly, he reaches over and lightly places his hand on yours, his thumb stroking your knuckles softly.

the warmth of his touch pulls you back from your thoughts, and you meet his eyes. in that simple gesture, he conveys his support and understanding without needing to say anything.

you squeeze his hand in response, a silent acknowledgment of your connection, feeling comforted by his presence and the care behind his touch.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake loves to carry you. he finds the little noise you make when he picks you up to be absolutely adorable, so any chance he gets, he’ll try to lift you off your feet without warning just to hear your surprised reaction.

you’re walking home together after a movie, laughing and talking, when suddenly, it starts pouring rain.

without an umbrella, you both start to run, but you slip on a puddle and stumble.

jake quickly catches you, grinning, and before you can protest, he sweeps you up into his arms to keep your feet out of the water.

you laugh, playfully telling him to put you down, but jake just smiles and says, “not a chance—i’ve got you now.”

you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you through the rain, both of you laughing as the world blurs around you.

in his arms, you feel like the only thing that matters, and he’s happy to keep you safe and close, rain and all.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

sunghoon loves to pat your head. he thinks it’s the perfect balance of playful and intimate, and what more could he want than that?

you were trying your hand at making a new dessert—a mousse cake. the recipe called for eggs, sugar, all-purpose flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt for the cake part.

you checked your ingredients and realized you were missing just the flour. you looked everywhere around the kitchen for it, but no luck you couldn’t find it.

the last place you didn't check was the high cabinets, and you couldn’t reach there—unless you wanted to climb onto the kitchen counter. you just cleaned it so doing that was a big no. so, you had to get help from sunghoon.

"hoon!" you called for your boyfriend, then you hear his familliar footsteps echo around your shared apartment.

"what does my little lady need from me this time?" he teases.

"can you reach the flour for me, please?" he grins at your request.

"why, of course~ anything for my lovely lady." he reached the container of flour with ease, and hands it over to you.

"thank you, hoon."

"anything for you," he says with a gentle smile, lifting his hand to your head and gently patting your hair.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

sunoo loves to cuddle you! just lying in bed cuddling is the perfect way to spend your morning with him.

it's the weekend again, you spent all night watching movies with sunoo. your little movie night ended up going untill 3 am.

you peacefully sleeping until the light coming from your windows end up waking you. you let out a sound of complain as you groggly open your eyes and move your arms to cover your face.

your sudden movement ended up waking your sleeping boyfriend.

"mhm, what're you doing?" sunoo's morning voice greeted you.

"the light from the windows woke me up," you mutter sleepily.

"come closer and get back to sleep."

you scoot closer to him, and sunoo wraps his arms around you, moving your head closer to his chest.

"now go back to sleep, i don't wanna get up yet."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

jungwon loves to hold your hand! when you're on dates, he always make sure he's holding your hand while you both walk to your destination. even when you're both doing nothing in particular — just idling by on the couch or laying in bed together — his hands will always be intertwined with yours.

you and jungwon are laying on a couch in comfortable silence with hands intertwined. you're on your phone, scrolling through the internet, when you see something that reminds you of your cat-like boyfriend.

"jungwon, look!" you say excitedly, showing him a picture of a cute pair of kittens.

"they're adorable," he says smiling, rubbing the thumb of his on the back of yours.

"they are! reminds me of you," you say with a grin. "mhmm, we do look pretty similar"

"i'm cuter, though," he smirks.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

riki loves to kiss your face. whether it's a quick peck on your forehead while you're tired or a light kiss on your cheeks when you aren't paying attention to him, he absolutely adores smothering your face with kisses.

you're busy looking around the snack aisle of the conveniece store, with riki behind you, pouting as he watches you ignore him— all your attention taken by the assortment of chips.

as you reach out to grab the bbq-flavored chips, you feel something soft make contact with your cheeks.

you turn to face your boyfriend, who looks at you with a cocky smile.

"can't have you ignoring me for some chips, can i?"

you roll your eyes playfully at his words. "well, now you have all my attention."

"as it should be," he says confidently.

taglist. @honeychocos

©levandright

[cake-writes]

Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  

What the hell is he doing?  

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 

Your birth control must be overdue, then.  

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  

He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  

He could get you pregnant. 

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  

Kakashi swears.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  

He’s already too attached. 

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Mm. Do you want me to?” 

His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  

You want to say no, he realises.  

He wants you to say no. 

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 

His.  

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.

“Just this once.”  

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.

Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 

“More than okay,” you sigh. 

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 

Later. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 

Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.

It’s selfish, he knows. 

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 

He wants it to take. 

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  

“Close?”  

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  

He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  

“Really?” 

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”

He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.

He wants them to mean that you’re his. 

He’s too attached. 

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  

It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  

“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 

If he moves right now, he’s done for.  

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  

You finish first. Always. 

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 

No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 

His jaw tenses at the reminder. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 

Get her there, then pull out. 

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then pull out.  

Get her there, then—  

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 

Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.

It feels good. It feels right. 

He’s too attached. 

He doesn’t care. 

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 

Why the hell did he do that?  

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  

“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 

They’re happy tears, you said. 

You’re happy with him. 

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 

You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  

It’s cute. You’re cute. 

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  

“What?” 

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 

“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  

And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 

“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 

“Hm? Why not?” 

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 

He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 

-

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 

-

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 

He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 

Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 

 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

[rollingeevee]

I gotta ask: do you know when exactly the beasts would bite their respective darlings? Like do they just capture them and then *chomp*? Also do the bites have an immediate effect or do the darlings not figure out what's up with the bite until they first try to run away?

Silly little but:

Darling, after getting bit: Freak!!

Darling, after the bite takes effect: Oh shit, that's why you were being freaky...

Hmm… that’s a good question! I feel it would vary for each Beast.

Shadow Milk and Burning Spice I can see doing it ASAP. They see it, they like it, they want it. That bite is happening as soon as they have their darling in their grasp, first chance they get. They don’t care what their darling thinks.

Eternal Sugar I can see somewhat similar, but I feel she would try to kinda play it off? When she takes her darling, she’ll likely try to ease them into a false sense of security. She’s offering you sweets and wants to nap with you? She can’t be that bad, can she? However, she might grow a bit impatient. When you’re napping together, that’s when she bites.

For Mystic Flour and Silent Salt, I can see them using their bites as a last resort. The two of them aren’t as eager to place down their bites unless another Beast is showing interest in what is theirs. However, as soon as they find you after you escape the first time? That’s when they bite. You got close to getting away. They didn’t like that. They gave you a chance, and you squandered it. Now they’re going to ensure you know exactly where you belong. With them.

Also, side note, I got this ask right before I fell asleep so the notif on my phone showed only the first few words and my tired brain read it as “where” instead of “when” and it got my mind going a lil before I passed out so- you’re getting that too! LMAO

Shadow Milk would place his bite on the neck, right below the ear. Sort of symbolic in a way. While his magic can reach your mind from wherever the bite might be, he likes the thought that it’s there, as if he’s always whispering sweet Deceit into your ear.

Mystic Flour would place her bite on your inner wrist. She cares the least about where her bite goes, so long as it is on you. Holding your hand to her lips, placing a gentle kiss, before suddenly jerking your hand, exposing your inner wrist, and sinking her teeth in.

Burning Spice’s bite is right on the neck in full view of everyone. He’s not a subtle guy, probs the most straightforward of the five. He’s loud and proud, and his bite would be the same. Right over your jugular where everyone can see it. There’s no hiding it. In a way, it’s also a powerplay. He could easily tear your throat out if he so desired. But he didn’t. Be grateful, little rabbit~

Eternal Sugar would place her bite on her darling’s chest, right above where your heart is. As stated above, she places it when you’re napping together. She’s draped on top of you, using your chest as her pillow. The moment her patience runs out, she’ll pull your shirt down just enough to expose the area she seeks and bite down.

Silent Salt’s bite is right above the area between your two collarbones below your throat. Centered between your lungs and your vocal cords. While, again, a bite’s placement doesn’t change its effects, they like the symbolism. The thought of stealing your voice, plunging you into silence.

Thank you for sending in an ask! Hope you liked the answer I gave!

[secretsandwriting]

Besties, batmom is apparently my favorite thing to write because I somehow managed to turn a drabble into 6k words???? Its 1k more then earned position idk how I did this??? Anyways, have this and enjoy.

I'm also trying to get more comfortable writing for Duke so bear with me as I figure out how I want to write his character.

Too Perfect

Not beta read

6.3k words

You smiled as you watched the Wayne kids mess around together in the corner of the gala. They looked like they were having a lot of fun together, it was heartwarming how close they looked. The way Jason had his arm thrown around Tim has they laughed at Dick teasing Damian by holding something he wanted just out of reach. Cassandra watched from her spot in Tim’s shadow. Signing away when something came to mind. Jason and Tim would translate for the other two so she was still heard while they were distracted.

Damian ended up kicking Dick’s ankle so he could finally grab what turned out to be his phone. Jason seemed to think it was hysterical and a good method while Tim sided with Dick claiming physical violence was not the answer. Cass just seemed to be trying to make everything worse, smiling when she said something that got them arguing harder. 

“Rowdy bunch no matter what I do.” Bruce suddenly appeared next to you, his tone fond as he smiled at his kids antics. “Are they bothering you?” You looked away from the kids to their father. 

“Not at all. I’m happy to see them able to act like kids in high society. Most lose the chance and ability to be anything other then perfect young.” Bruce hummed, about to say something when your watch beeped. “That’s my cue to leave. I have a long day of ahead of me tomorrow.”

“It is quite late. Thank you for coming, I hope you had a good time.” He gave you his famous smiled, the one that had most girls swooning. 

“I did! It was quite a lovely night. Thank you for the invite!” You returned his smile before heading out the door and too your car.

A few weeks later you found yourself at your favorite cafe. Stepping carefully, you tried to avoid the ice on your way in. The recent snow storm happening almost immediately after rain had made the roads and sidewalks horrible. The plows and salt helped but it was still a disaster. 

Opening the door, the warm air enveloped you. The scent of coffee and baked goods heavy in the air, producing a comforting feeling and making you forget about the snow and ice outside for a minute. The line wasn’t long but you had left early enough it wouldn’t have mattered if it was out the door. 

Your usual was punched in the second you got up to the register, the barista just chatting with you instead of asking. A testament to how often you came. Moving away after you were done paying so the person behind you could order, you hummed along to the song playing over the radio. You checked your phone for any texts about work for the day and ran through your mental checklist to make sure you were ready for the day. 

Your checklist was interrupted by your name as your coffee was set on the counter. Grabbing it you took a sip and sighed. It was too early for all of this. Heading out the door, you tried to be just as careful as you were going in. Tried being the keyword. You slipped on the ice, there was no way you could stop from falling so you just braced for impact. 

It never came, instead you found yourself leaning against someone. They helped you back up, hand gentle on your back as they made sure you were standing without risk of falling again. 

“You ok?” Turning around to thank them, you were met with Bruce Wayne. Concern swimming in his eyes. Your coffee was in his other hand, he must of noticed your glance at it because he handed it back to you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to have to go back for another one.”

“Yes, thank you for catching both me and my coffee!” He smiled as he stepped back. 

“It was no trouble!” He gave you another smile before turning around and heading into the coffee shop, you didn’t notice the steaming coffee on the ground near you as you turned and headed back to your car. Thinking about how it was odd you had seen him twice in a couple weeks.

Browsing the books in the little shop, you let out a sigh when you realized they didn’t have the book you wanted. That's what you get for slacking and waiting a month after getting the notification they had it in stock. Deciding to do the best thing and leave before you end up with a stack of books you don’t need, you headed for the door. Promising yourself you would come earlier next time. 

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Bruce Wayne looking completely lost. He kept glancing down at a paper in his hand and back up at the shelf. Eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find something. He had helped you at the cafe so maybe you could repay the favor. 

“What are you looking for?” He whipped around like you had just jumped out and screamed at him. You stifled a laugh but your smile still slipped through. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly a little embarrassed before squaring his shoulders and looking down at his list. 

“I didn’t know you worked here… Jason asked me to pick up these books for him.” He handed you the list. You scanned through the titles, all classics. He was in the fiction on the opposite side of the store from the classics.

“I don’t, I just shop here way too much. These would be over here.” He snorted as he followed you through the store. You listened to him as he talked about his kids. Laughing at the mischief they caused and smiling at the clearly fond tone as he told you about the random little things they had done. You had alway wanted kids but every time you tried, something happened. EIther breakups or problems getting pregnant. So you found yourself living through Bruce’s stories. Imaging having your own kids who pulled similar stunts or the things they would do. Once all of the books were picked out and paid for, you prepared to split ways.

“Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” Bruce asked. You stopped and stared at him, his cheeks turning a light pink under your gaze. You reached into your bag to pull out a pen and paper, jotting down your number and handing it to him. 

“I would love to!”

Dinner was at your favorite restaurant, so you knew the food was good. The conversation was a little awkward but it wasn’t long until you were easily conversing. Talking about everything from work, his kids latest adventures, to politics. 

He was a perfect gentleman the entire night. Opening all the doors, pulling out your chair for you, kind to all the staff, understanding of any mistakes that had happened and still tipped them well. The butterflies in your stomach had fed on that to become stronger and make you feel more sick then nervous at times. 

After dinner, you went for a walk in a park nearby. The night chill was kept away by the laughter between you too as you shared ridiculous stories. When you decided it was late and you needed to leave, Bruce walked you to your car and waited until you left to leave.

“Did you walk her to her car when you left?” Jason was the first at the door to question him. Sometimes Bruce really wondered if Jason was actually going to do his whole revenge plan with how he acts with the family now. At the end of the night he was just glad Jason was alive and around to question his every move. 

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Jason paused like he was searching for something to insult Bruce with as his response but Tim slid into the room and immediately started questioning him. 

“Did you open the doors for her?” Bruce signed. He really should try to hide more of his dating life from them. 

“I opened the doors and pulled her chair out for her. And,” He turned and looked at Damian who had just run into the room. “I asked about her day and listened.” Damian nodded like he was proud of Bruce. He just shook his head at his boys. 

“But did you extend the date to go a litt-” 

“We went on a walk after dinner.” Dick huffed at being interrupted but he was pleased with the answer. Bruce turned his attention to Cass so he wouldn’t miss her question. 

“Yes, I did tell her she looked pretty tonight.” Cass grinned and nodded. 

You smiled at your phone as you read the text from Bruce followed with a short video of Damian ranting about not being allowed to pet the tigers. You had been texting with him daily between work and whatever else you had to do ever since the date. There had been regular phone calls and now regular facetimes every night as well as your 5th date happening Saturday night. 

Bruce had been nothing but a gentleman the entire relationship. Something you weren’t fully used to yet. There was nothing you would change. Communication was great, boundaries were being respected, there was no pressure, and there were no lies. It was almost too perfect.

Bruce wanted to introduce you to the kids and they all wanted to meet you. According to Bruce, despite never meeting you, they all claimed they would go with you if there was a breakup. You had just laughed it off when he told you. Figuring it was just something they were joking about as a way to tease their father. 

“They’ll love you!” Bruce reassured you as you walked up to the manor door. “They were all excited to find out you were coming tonight. Dick and Jason made sure they had the night off so they could come.” You really wanted him to stop talking. He was only making this worse. 

The door opened and the first thing you heard was yelling. Bruce just sighed next to you. Alfred took your coat after introducing himself, informing you it would be another half hour before dinner would be done and then leaving to go work on it.

As you followed Bruce in, the yelling got louder. You were headed towards the boys, the volume of their yelling made it obvious when you were almost there. You made it in time to see Jason holding Tim up by the collar as Damian cheered and Dick tried to get Jason to let go of Tim. Tim was interrupting Dick’s attempts to keep arguing with Jason, making his chances to get put down lower. Cass was just sitting on the couch watching everything go down, when she spotted you, she came over and offered to give you a tour of the manor. You of course accepted and left with Cass while Bruce stayed to deal with the boys.

You took the time to get to know a little about Cass, carefully paying attention when she talked slow and quietly. While you weren’t the most fluent with sign language you could normally make out what she was saying, at least a little bit. Along the way, Duke joined you, adding in jokes here and there and helping to translate for Cass when you struggled to understand what she was saying. 

The tour ended in the dining room where the others waited. You felt a little better about it when Cass and Duke insisted you sit with them. It made you feel like you could do this and like it wouldn’t go too badly. After all, two of them liked you now… At least they seemed too. 

Steph joined shortly after you were seated, apologizing about being late and rambling about a project she was working on. With that, Dinner was started. Along with the absolutely amazing food, you got to learn more about the kids Bruce had collected. 

Dick was a police officer in Bludhaven, he had moved after a fight with Bruce that had been resolved but decided he liked it there and the freedom that came with it and stayed. He had adjusted to living on his own relatively smoothly and loved it when his siblings dropped by. He was offered a promotion recently but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He was also very glad Bruce was in a serious relationship because maybe he would back off on his parenting. 

Jason loved books, especially the classics. He was the most obviously dramatic of them all and loved to play things up. He had gotten kidnapped and went no contact with Bruce when he came back. He had made up with Bruce recently but it was still a little rocky sometimes. His apartment gets regularly broken into by his siblings and he claimed to hate it but the look in his eyes told you he really didn’t mind it and truly liked that they felt safe coming to him. 

Tim was the CEO of W.E, something he took great pride in. He also likes mysteries so he looks into police cases and tried to solve them before the police. He likes working with computers and figuring out bugs in programs, something he likes to do with Barbara. He really likes coffee, drinks more then he should but won’t stop. He doesn’t have a spleen anymore and somehow he managed to keep that a secret from the family until recently. And while he violently denied it, go as far to punch Dick when he suggested it, Tim was extremely protective of his family.

Damian loves animals, going as far to become vegetarian after saving a cow from a slaughter house. He collects pets and despite the large amount he had, he still took perfect care of them. His favorite subject in school is history but his favorite class is art. He likes painting and according to everyone he’s absolutely amazing at it. He lived with his mom until he was 10 when she sent him to live with his dad. He knew Jason first because Jason had joined his family after he had been kidnapped. While Damian claimed he disliked his brothers, it was very obvious he truly cared about them and loved them deeply. 

Duke had recently moved into the manor and was still getting used to having enough money to spend on things other than necessities. He had started helping Tim figure out what charities to donate to the most and regularly worked with Jason on helping kids on the streets. He was part of the We Are Robin movement, something he spoke about with great pride as well as pain. He liked collecting cards for a game and was very excited when you asked to see his collection. He had also been arrested, something you couldn’t picture about the sweet boy next to you. 

Steph was also vegetarian and she loves bubble tea and other fruity drinks. She regularly works with Human Rights Activists and wants to help as many people as possible. She loves going out for girls days and forcing her brothers into facemasks and other similar things. She’s big on quality time, one of the ones who drops by Dick’s and Jason’s apartments the most. She likes podcasts, apparently its all she listens to and she gives good recommendations. She also loves watching darmas for the sole purpose of laughing at the stupid plot points. 

Cass loves ballet, she finds it fun and relaxing. Due to a bad childhood she struggles with talking and understanding words but she’s been working on it. She really likes sign language and was very happy when the rest of the family touched up their skills or learned it to make communicating easier for her. She’s also big on quality time, the other one who drops in the most. She just likes to sit quietly with other people while doing their each doing their own thing. She really likes chocolate ice cream and knows the best brands. She likes to randomly scare her siblings, she thinks its funny when they jump and scream. 

The entire dinner, as you talked and listened to the kids, Bruce just grinned from his spot. Happy to have his kids and girlfriend all together and wishing the peace would last forever. After dinner, you moved to the living room where the talking continued until late in the night. 

After the dinner, you spent more time at the manor and with the kids. Cass invited you to her ballet recitals and sometimes asked for a ride when Bruce and Jason were busy. Steph invited you to go out with her, drinks and window shopping became a biweekly thing. Damian would invite you to help with his animals, he would tell you things he knew about them as you worked. He would also requests rides from school when needed. Duke would tell you about the new cards he had gotten and their stats and would invite you to go hunting for rare ones with him. Jason started a book club with you, you would meet once a week to discuss what you had read and whatever else was on his mind. Tim would get your opinion on cases he was trying to solve, you would get coffee and try to solve the case. Dickwould invite you to join him for gossip, you would trade gossip about the cities and whatever else you knew. 

Overall, you got along well with the kids. Something you were happy about and something that made Bruce fall in love with you more and more the more he saw you interact with them or when they would talk about everything they had done with you. His kids were his life, and to have you come in and love and care for them like they were your own meant more then he could ever hope to put into words. 

Your relationship with Bruce was perfect. He was a gentleman who always treated you right an made sure you were well taken care of, His kids liked you and you absolutely adored them. He was the best partner you had ever had and your relationship was healthier then you had even thought possible. It was absolutely perfect.

Too perfect. Something wasn’t lining up. The injuries, the slow texts at night when you knew he had nothing planned and the kids were busy, the secret basement. Something was going on. Sp you did the only thing you could think of. You documented everything. 

Every mystery scratch, bruise, broken bone, it was all written down. After a week you noticed a pattern. Everytime Batman got into a bad fight and was injured, Bruce had the same injury the very next day. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be Batman, it had to be a coincidence so you kept documenting. Hoping to get a different answer. 

2 weeks in, your questions started multiplying. Steph had broken her leg right about the time spoiler was thrown off a roof by the villain of the week and had to be carried away by Red Hood. That couldn’t be right.

Week 3 had Damain getting mugged and stabbed the same night Robin was stabbed by a henchman after being overwhelmed. 

Week 4 Jason was shot when helping a kid in an alley the same night Red Hood was shot busting a human trafficking ring. 

Week 5 Cass broke her arm falling down the stairs the day after Black Bat broke hers in combat. 

Week 6 Tim ran into a wall and got a concussion the day after Red Robin was thrown into a wall and was carried away by Nightwing yelling about a concussion. 

Week 7 Dick was shot off duty by someone wanting revenge the same night Nightwing was shot busting a robbery. 

By week 8 you couldn’t deny it. Something is going on and you wanted an explanation. So you set a time to meet with Bruce at the manor using the dreaded “We need to talk.” You met at the manor when all the kids were out and busy so it was just the two of you. Bruce was clearly nervous and unsure of what exactly you wanted to talk about. 

You just handed him all your notes and waited. You watched as he read and all the nervousness practically melted off him and was replaced by an unreadable calm. A sinking feeling filled your stomach as you hoped he would tell you the truth and not lie like everyone else who had switched up like that. Bruce read silently, reading every line carefully before moving onto the next one. 

Hes coming up with excuses. 

Your mind supplied. You tried to push the thought away. Bruce hadn’t lied about anything so far in your relationship. He had just hidden something and he hid it because it was dangerous. Yeah, it was too dangerous to just tell people right away but you had been dating for 6 months so he could trust you with it now. He was going to tell you soon or he just didn’t know how to bring it u-

“I’m not sure why you think I could be Batman? Me?” Oh.

“Bruce, it’s too many coinc-”

“Y/n, I’m not batman and the kids are vigilantes either. Yes it’s definitely weird it lines up so well but it doesn’t mean anything.” He was lying, you could see the spark of panic in his eyes as he tried to convince you that it wasn’t real. It told you everything you needed to know. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke. 

“You’re right. It is a bit weird, but I believe you. I’m glad I could get some confirmation.” Bruce smiled at you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “I have a meeting I need to get to, I’ll see you later.” You kissed him goodbye and went straight home, blocking his number from the comfort of your bed. You weren’t going to date another liar. 

The next morning, you accepted the out of country transfer your job had offered you. You packed up and left within a week. You had gotten a few texts from the kids asking how you were and you made sure to respond to them. They seemed to understand you needed space and didn’t text you much after that first week. You were thankful they understood and appreciated that they never mentioned their father to you. 

Your first week in your new home you had gotten sick. Nothing seemed to help so you went into the doctor. Turns out you and Bruce hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. The positive pregnancy test, a testament to how nothing seemed to go as planned the past month. 

Thankfully your job and doctor helped you find resources to help you get along as a soon to be single mother in a foreign country. With all the help you had been provided, it would hopefully go as smooth as possible given the circumstances. 

Eleven months later, you found yourself back in Gotham. Nothing seemed to change while you were gone, the city was the same dreary city with extremely high crime rates but you had missed it. As horrible as it was, Gotham was home. 

A friend had helped you move your things into your new apartment, the nursery had taken priority so Penelope would hopefully be able to sleep through most of the rest of the moving. Wishful thinking, Penny had been nothing but a handful. Her favorite activity seemed to be wailing as loud as her little lungs would allow her whenever you were trying to get any sort of semblance of rest. Sometimes, you wondered if you hadn’t connected the dots, if Bruce being around would help with the stress. If it would have made your pregnancy smoother and now if you would be able to sleep a little more. 

Penelope had just settled down for a nap when there was a knock on your door. You sighed as your plans for a nap were ruined by whoever was knocking, half tempted to just ignore them. Another knock, this time louder. They would wake Penny if you didn’t answer the door so you went to see who needed you so desperately. A redhead girl in a wheelchair smiled at you as you opened the door. Barbara your mind supplied. 

“Sorry to drop by so suddenly but I wanted to talk to you about Bruce and Penelope.” You sighed again, you knew this would come and that you would have to talk about it. You stepped aside and let Barbara in, closing the door behind her. 

“Penny just went down for a nap so we need to be quiet. Can I get you something to drink?” Barbara got settled at the table, looking around quietly while you got her drink. She took a sip of it while you sat down across from her, setting the glass on the table and turning her attention to you. 

“Are you going to tell Bruce about Penelope?” Straight to the point.

“Eventually.”

“Would you consider dating Bruce again if he apologized and told you the truth first this time?”

“It depends on what the truth is and how good his apology is.” She nodded, thinking for a second.

“Bruce doesn’t know you’re back yet. I’ve managed to keep it from him and Tim. Just like I did with all your google searches about their injuries. I was hoping he’d tell you the truth then but he’s so stubborn. I’m going to tell them tomorrow that you're back, I just wanted to get your thoughts about it before I did so I could hopefully curb anything that was unwanted.” From there you talked about random things, getting to know her and catching up on everything that had happened in Gotham while you were gone. The conversation was interrupted by Penny’s crying. Barbara left, claiming Bruce should be the first to meet Penny. 

“I won’t mention Penny. I’ll leave that for you to do when you're ready.” She offered you a smile before wheeling herself out of your apartment. As you fed Penny, you thought about your conversation with Barbara. Bruce was unblocked later that night. 

Your phone lit up with Bruce’s name the next night. He asked to meet and talk in a park that was always empty. He promised he would tell you the truth and apologized for lying before. You agreed.

You caught up with him for a little bit before Bruce mentioned your conversation before you left. He admitted you were right and he had just panicked. He apologized for lying again and told you that he should have never brushed you off like he had, even if it had been fake. 

He told you about how it all started, how he got Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Damian. How he had found Steph and Duke. About what happened with Barbara. He told you about his missions, the justice league, his paranoia, and trust issues. You listened to him silently for hours. 

Hours later, once he had gone over everything. You agreed to try again.

After your second first date with Bruce, the kids started reaching out to you again. You had forgotten how much you enjoyed their presence in your life. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you had used to due to needing to take care of Penny and the price of sitters being too expensive. 

You had decided to tell Bruce about Penny on your fourth date. You would tell him at dinner and invite him over to meet her. Unfortunately your sitter canceled last minute right before your third date. You considered canceling but you needed to tell Bruce and there was a high chance you would chicken out later on. 

So you wrestled Penny into a cute outfit and into the dreaded car seat, the one she screamed at like it was going to eat her when you put her in. She thankfully fell asleep in the car, making it easier for you to go in faster. You were already late as it was. 

Bruce saw you walk in and was about to stand up to greet you when he saw the carseat and froze. You took a deep breath and went over to the table, gently setting her down while you took your own seat. Bruce looked over to you, questions clearly written all over his face. 

“She’s yours. I found out a week after I moved. She’ll be 4 months old in a week. You can hold her when she wakes up if you want.” “What’s her name?”

“Penelope Avery Wayne.” He sucked in a breath, trying to hold his tears back. Penny slept through the whole meal, giving you time to talk. Bruce asked all about her and how your pregnancy went. 

He followed you back to your apartment and just watched Penny sleep as you talked on the couch. When she woke up and started wailing when she realized she was still in the horrid carseat, you gently pulled her out and handed her to Bruce. 

She quieted down when given her freedom from the seat, her big blue eyes meeting Bruce’s own. She smiled up at him as she shoved her fist in her mouth, inspecting him from her spot in his arms. Bruce cooed over her as he wiped the tears from his eyes as he held his little girl for the first time. 

The second his other kids found out about Penny, there was a group outside your door begging to see her and offer their babysitting services. Every single one of them adored her and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Penny soaked up the attention like a little sponge.

Cass and Duke were her favorites but she still loved all the others. Bruce was over whenever he could be to help, taking a very active roll in Penny’s care. You barely lifted a finger, only having to feed her when Bruce was around. 

You eventually agreed to move into the manor with Bruce. All the kids were ecstatic. It would make seeing you and Penny easier for them. Bruce and Tim convinced you to quit your job, Tim promised you work at W.E if you were set on working and all the others offered to bring you along when they went to help out at their favorite charities and organizations. 

Bruce made sure he was open and honest about everything, including his Batman adventures. The kids all came to you when he pissed them off or made a call that they didn’t like or they thought was unfair. Things were looking up and you hoped they stayed that way. 

They stayed up, in fact they went higher than you thought it could. They went higher and higher and Tim was the one who started it. 

“Hey mom, do you know where my black dress shoes are? I have a meeting I need them for.” You just stared at him, trying not to cry. Tim looked up, trying to figure out why you weren’t answering him and then why you looked like you were about to cry. You knew the second he figured it out, his face going bright red.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ot anything! I’l-” You cut him off.

“It’s ok Tim! You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just surprised. You’re more than welcome to call me mom if that’s what you want. You’re shoes are in the coat closet to the left.” He nodded and went to grab them. 

“Thanks mom!” He called out as he stepped out the door to head to work. You couldn’t hold the tears back once the door was shut and again when you told Bruce that night. He just smiled as he held you while you cried, happy to know his family was doing well together. 

Dick did it next. He had come over to celebrate finishing a tough case as Nightwing. He brushed past Bruce and came straight to you. Wrapping you into a hug, you hugged him back and waited until he pulled away to let go. Bruce let out a teasing scoff, clearly not upset but pretending to be. Dick pulled away to look at Bruce.

“I came for Alfred’s food and to get praise for my good job from Mom.” He stuck his tongue out at Bruce before coming back in for another hug. You held him tight, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He inspected you closely before breaking out in a grin. “Is is because I called you mom? Aww!” He hugged you again. “You shouldn’t be crying because I called you mom, you should be crying because it means you can never leave us. You’re stuck here with us forever.”

“That’s a good thing. I love all of you so much I could never leave you guys.” Dick hugged you tighter. You didn’t mention his teary eyes when he pulled away. 

Cass started calling you mom shortly after. She used it when she signed for you. It took everything not to cry at her performance when she used it for the first time. Once she started, she refused to call you anything else. You were mom and everyone knew exactly who she was referring to when she did it with the others. 

Duke jokingly started calling you “Mom 2”. He had apologized later on if it offended you. He still had his mom and while she wasn’t all there anymore she was still his mom and that title belonged to her. You had held him as you both cried, reassuring him that it didn’t bother you and you had no problems with it or with him just calling you by your name. Promising him that you would never be offended over something like this and he shouldn’t feel pressured to call you anything other than your name if he didn’t want to. 

Damian was next, you knew his mom was still alive and that he cared for her greatly even though their relationship was a bit rough. So you expected him to just call you by your name, it never bothered you and was something you just never thought about. It was up to him to decide what he was comfortable calling you. 

“Ummi, can we take Penny to the Zoo next week? I want to show her the baby lion the was just born.” Damian had run into the kitchen to ask, interrupting your breakfast with Bruce but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

“Of course, we can go after you get out of school on tuesday.” Damian cheered and went to tell Penny the news. The 8 month old having no clue what was going on but feeding off of Damian’s excitement. 

“Y/n,” you turned to look at Bruce.  “Ummi means mother in arabic.” You stared at him like he grew another head. “Damian just called you mother.” Bruce pulled you into a hug as you realized another one of his kids viewed you as safe enough to be their mother. Bruce gently rocked you in the kitchen as you tried not to cry again.

Jason’s happened next, you would have been more excited if you hadn’t been so terrified. You had gotten nervous with all of them out on patrols so Bruce had given you a com so you could listen and know that they were ok. Unfortunately it also let you hear everything going wrong. 

You nudged past Bruce to get to Jason. He was laying on a bed, freshly patched up after a really bad mission. He had been stabbed 3 times and shot 6 more times. He was out cold but Alfred assured you he would be ok if he took the time needed to heal. You didn’t leave his bedside for 3 days while he slept. Worried that the second you stepped away something bad would happen to him. 

“Mom?” You jerked out of your thoughts and looked to Jason. He was barely awake and looked scared. He looked every bit of the little boy he had lost in the explosion and it broke your heart and made you glad Bruce had stepped out to put Penny to bed so he didn’t have to see it. 

“I’m here. What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” He whispered a yes so you called Alfred to up the pain meds, staying with him until he was fully lucid and kicked you out to get some rest. 

Jason stayed in the manor for a few weeks and let you, Bruce, and Alfred nurse him to help. Alfred pulled you aside and asked that in the future if any of them get hurt badly again, that you weaponize the look of horror and sadness you had when Jason tried to leave early that made him stay longer. You agreed to try, especially if it would make the chances of them healing better higher. 

Bruce proposed shortly after, of course you said yes and the wedding planning began. A year later you were officially married. In that one day, you got a Husband and 7 kids, making for a total of 8 children. Well 9 if you counted the baby from the test you had taken the night before the wedding. 

“Say Y/n’s Pregnant!” The photographer yelled as she started snapping pictures, perfectly capturing the moment your family processed what she had said. 

Things were good. You were happy with your family and you knew that even through the hard parts, you would be ok. 

[reginyani]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer's addiction to dilaudid begins to become clearer to the team, but especially to you, when he starts calling you late at night, slurring his words and confessing random things that you can only take with a grain of salt.

cw: spencer's addiction to dilaudid, addiction in general, high!reid, use of Y/N, fem!bau!reader

wc: 918 words 4957 characters

authors note: the only way to promore fanfictions on tumblr is reblogging, so reblog if you enjoyed this!

It was late, far too late for you to be awake, but instead of sleeping, you were pacing through your apartment. Your mind was racing, filled with worries that you couldn't shake no matter what. The last case had been brutal, but it wasn’t the case that had you worried—it was Spencer.

Ever since he had been kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he hadn’t been the same. It had been weeks since you’d noticed the subtle signs—almost everyone did. The slight tremor in his hand, the way he'd seemed more tired than usual, and the flushed skin that never seemed to go away. You knew he was on drugs, and almost everyone seemed to know too. He was good at hiding it, but you could still tell something was wrong.

Then there were the calls.

You had received another one tonight, about an hour ago. The all-too-familiar ring of your phone echoed through your quiet apartment. You groaned, picking it up and squinting at the name on the screen. It was blurry from your sleepy state, but it read “Spencer Reid”. When you saw his name, you knew. He never called at a normal hour, and he was always high when he did. It had happened multiple times over the past few weeks—each time, his words slurred, his voice thick with that unmistakable fog of sedation.

You answered, like you always did, hoping to talk him down, convince him to go to sleep, and make sure he was okay. Though those things had given you reassurance each time, you knew he was miles away from any sign of sober clarity.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, vibrating through the line as you held the phone up to your ear.

"I'm here, Reid," you replied softly, letting out a yawn. You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

There was a long pause, a breath, then in a hushed whisper, he replied, "I... I miss you..."

The pang in your chest was hard to ignore, but you held it back. This wasn’t the first time he had said something like that during these late-night calls when he was high. You knew what it meant—or rather, what it didn’t mean. Spencer was spiraling, and in these moments, his thoughts often got tangled up.

You ignored his comment. "You need to get some rest, Spencer. You're not in a clear state right now," you said carefully.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but his words sounded slurred. "I just... I just want to tell you something."

You immediately knew where this was going. These bursts of confessions had happened before. In his drug-induced state, Spencer was unguarded and said things he definitely wouldn’t if he were sober. But nothing ever came of them, so you’d learned to take them with a grain of salt.

"You don’t need to tell me anything right now, Reid. You should rest," you said softly, trying your best to convince him to close his eyes.

"I love you, Y/N," he blurted out. "You're the only one that gets me. You're the only one that matters. I don’t know what I’m doing without you..." He slurred, his voice breaking slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat. You could hear the raw emotion in his voice, his confession tumbling out like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. But you knew you couldn’t let yourself get swept up in it. His words were unreliable in his current state.

"Reid..." you whispered, your throat dry as you searched for words. You wanted to say something to make him feel better, but you couldn’t. "You're high, and you're not thinking clearly. We can talk about this when you're sober."

"I don't want to wait," his voice trembled now. "I need you to know how much you mean to me. I need you to know."

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. You hated hearing him like this—vulnerable, confused, and lost in his addiction, while you couldn’t do anything to help him stop without risking his job.

"I know you care, Spencer. But you have to understand, when you're not in a clear state of mind, none of this is real. You need help," you said gently, masking the pain in your voice.

"I know, I know... I just... don’t know how to stop. I can’t make it go away." You could hear the frustration in his voice, and your heart continued to break. You knew how much he hated feeling weak, how hard it would be for him to ask for help, even when he needed it most.

"I'm here, okay? But you need to get help, and I’m not sure how long you're going to be able to keep hiding this from the team." There was a minute of silence on the other end, and you furrowed your eyebrows, confused. "Hello?" When there was still no response, you knew he’d fallen asleep.

You hung up the phone, sitting in the quiet of your room as the darkness consumed you. Even though you knew his words weren’t entirely true, they still stung.

You could only hope that, when he was sober, maybe he’d still feel the same way. But right now, your main priority was making sure he found his way back from the edge he was hanging off of. You just hoped that, someday, Spencer would realize the love he spoke of tonight could still be his, whenever he was ready to fight for it.

tags:

[nymphoniah]

student burnout goes brrrrrrrrrr

imagine having old man logan proofread your essay?? grabbing his glasses and your essay in hand, walking up to where he's seated on the sofa?? putting his glasses on for him and then sitting on his lap???? resting your head on his shoulder, hands fidgeting with his greying beard as he analyzes your essay?? then him ACTUALLY having thoughtful inputs on it and telling you about it while he tucks your hair behind your ear??? hhhnnnggggggggggg

im gonna EXPLODEEE just thinking about this omfg...

like logan already knows you don't need his help, but he decides to play along with it anyways. he secretly loves it when you visit him during his office hours, finding any excuse to ask him a question you already know the answer to.

he'd be sitting across the table as you lean over, cleavage showing ever so slightly. you have him wrapped around your finger, teasing him, making him take the bait.

and when you ask him to proofread your essay, you just use it as an excuse to get closer to him. "y'sure that you want me to proofread this?" logan asks, briefly flipping through the papers of your essay, "to me, it looks like you got it all figured out."

and thats when you seat yourself on his lap, taking the papers outta his hands, flipping to where you figured you might need a little help on. his breath falters a bit, but he keeps his composure. you know he wants it, you, as badly as you want him.

logan's eyebrows furrow, reading over the same line, trying to figure out what you think's wrong with the paper, one hand occupied rubbing little circles on your thigh, while the other is gripping your paper rather tightly, trying to remain focused on the issue at hand—your essay, of course.

but he can't help but lean into your touch as you play with the scruff of his salt-and-peppered beard, his mind wandering about, thinking about how good your hands would feel placed against his chest, lingering down to his happy trail.

but his mind snaps back to reality, finding a little tweak that you can make to your paper. "s'over here, doll..." he says, slipping a little pet name to get your attention—and it works, your ears perking up at the word, practically like a cat.

"you can switch this sentence with...," he points out, licking his middle finger to flip to the next page, "this one o'er here," he tuts. your eyes watch as his he hastily licks the digit, wishing it was yours instead of his.

"anythin' else you need, darling?" he asks, snapping you out of your trance. you bite your lip, your mind scrambling, trying to find anything else to talk about, related to the paper or not.

"actually..." you trail, taking the paper out of his hands, placing it on the lamp side table. "there is one more thing i need help with," sliding off his lap, slotting yourself between his legs.

[goggles-mcgee]

Phantom Fudge

I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.

My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!

His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.

I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.

So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.

That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.

From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.

Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.

Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.

One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.

Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.

They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.

A coincidence surely.

Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.

Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.

The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'

Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.

While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.

The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[pennyellee]

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: ELIXIR pairings: mafia hoseok x female reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s, arranged marriage, childhood friends to lovers word count: 22K/tba release date: 02.18.25 beta read by one and only @chaoticpuff17

prompt 1: "And I won't be satisfied till we're taking those vows" prompt 2: you were apparently promised to the heir of Jung's criminal empire since birth, not that you ever took that ongoing inside joke seriously. You grew up alongside the said man, yet your mind is conflicted about upholding your part and saying I do until one drunken night reveals a lot more than you'd like.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | explicit language, hurt men's ego, mild yandere behaviour (warnings were reduced to avoid spoilers)

author's note: ionoiafhoianfoaif, yalllll, I was writing this like foreveeeeerrrrr. So this is where it all basically started in my head when I created the retelling of what happened around the year 1996. Still, somehow Champagne Confetti and Anubis got out first, mainly because I will continue them, but this is one shot exclusively (I'm open to filler tho). Why? The story of Princess and Hoseok never dies throughout both the fics that are already out and those that will only come. Mainly with Anubis' chapters, you'll get to see them. I'm just as nervous to put this out as I am with every fic but very excited to throw Elixir in the world. I'm simultaneously working on my MA diploma thesis so bear with me when I'm radio silent, but I love you all! I appreciate you reading my stuff my good little fairies ♥ I'll see ya at Hobi's birthday! ♥ Enjoy!

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, bloodshed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, and old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

main masterlist 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑

Winter 1995 You spotted Hoseok seated at the table, a serene picture of composure, his fingers curled around a steaming cup of coffee he enjoys in the mornings.

He looked up at your approach, his eyes locking onto yours. There was no trace of anger on his face, no sharp edge to his expression. If anything, he seemed calm, almost disarming.

"Hobi—" you started before he quickly interrupted you.

"Sit down," he said a bit more firmer than he'd want to, gesturing to the seat across from him.

You hesitated for a moment before lowering yourself into the chair, acutely aware of the weight of the moment. A plate of food sat before you, untouched. Your stomach churned, but the thought of eating felt impossible.

"Are you?—"

"I'm not mad, no," he cut you off gently, surprising you, as if he knew what you were suggesting before you even managed to let those words roll on your tongue.

"So?—" you echoed hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know what to expect now. Maybe it would be better if he'd be mad and you knew that you have to make it better just like it used to be, instead he is not showing any kind of position in this situation and that was making you uneasy beyond comparison.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

"You're still here. That's what matters to me for now." He began, his tone measured. For now. Hoseok was always skilled at this—at saying something that sounded kind but felt like a command.

"I panicked," you admitted softly, the honesty slipping out before you could stop it.

"I know, baby, you chose wrong—" he replied, his gaze unwavering.

"—twice," he added fuel to the fire, salt to the wound. But you knew why. He wanted you to submit to him, and he needed to work overtime to do so.

"You need to show me you're willing to make this right, love," you swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat making it nearly impossible to respond. His aura and magnitude of how he could move you however he liked now was overwhelming. You cannot run away, not when he dragged you back to this place instead of his brownstone at 57th street. You're not only under his surveillance here, but the Kkangpae and the rest of the family.

“What’s it gonna be? Cuz’ I can’t fucking pretend anymore–” 

His gaze dropped to the table for a moment before he reached into his pocket. You stiffened instinctively, already guessing what he was about to do. Sure enough, his hand emerged clutching the familiar black velvet box. The sight of it made your chest tighten.

"Hoseok," you said softly, your voice trembling with unease. "Please—"

"I don't think I will be so forgiving if you'll choose wrong for a third time, Princess." He ignored your plea, opening the box to reveal the ring again. The one you'd angrily thrown at him that fateful night when he tried to force it down your finger after you explicitly said no to him.

The one that symbolised everything you were not ready to accept, but you had to. It glimmered in the soft light of the room, deceptively beautiful.

"I'm done asking," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. Your breath hitched, but before you could speak, Hoseok reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding, yet the weight of his action was suffocating.

You tried to pull your hand back, but his grip tightened—not painfully, but enough to make it clear you weren't going anywhere. With deliberate precision, he slid the emerald ring onto your finger.

"There," he said, his voice softening just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You stared at the emerald ring, your mind racing. It looked almost serene on your finger, as if it had always belonged there. Hoseok sat back, satisfied, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Before you could respond, the soft thuds of certain leather shoes announced another arrival.

"Joon-ah!" Hoseok greeted, leaning back in his chair. "I assume there's news?"

Namjoon glanced at you briefly, then back to Hoseok. "Yes. We've made progress with the Anubis situation. The distilleries have been secured, but the reports of interference need attention."

"Anubis situation?" You echoed Namjoon's words. Hoseok's smile didn't falter, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. His gaze flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might dismiss your question. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlacing.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a quiet finality that suggested the topic was closed.

Namjoon, however, wasn't as careful with his expression. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, a crack in the façade of calm efficiency he usually wore. It was gone as quickly as it came, but you caught it, and it only fuelled your curiosity.

"Anubis is my responsibility, Hoseok, you cannot—" you pressed, your tone sharper now. You'd learned long ago that brushing things under the rug only meant tripping over them later.

"Not anymore."

Hoseok's words cut through the room with an authority that left no room for argument. He leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of complete control, his eyes locked on yours with a quiet intensity.

"What?!" You breathed out rather loudly now.

"Not anymore," he repeated, slower this time as if daring you to challenge him. And challenge him you did.

"Hoseok," you tried again, your voice quieter this time, laced with both frustration and fear. "This isn't—"

"I gotta punish you somehow, Princess," his one was calm, almost casual, but the weight behind his words was anything but. Your stomach churned as his lips curved into a faint, disarming smile—a predator's smile hidden beneath a veil of warmth.

"Punish me?" you repeated, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it. "Exactly for what you gotta punish me, Hoseok?

"For running," he said, the amusement in his voice doing little to soften the hurt he felt inside. "For throwing the ring. For abandoning me this morning after we made love last night—"

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with a raised hand. "Don't misunderstand me, Princess. I'm not angry. But actions have consequences."

Your heart pounded against your ribs, the rhythm chaotic and uneven. His calm demeanour made it worse. It took one wide-eyed glance for Namjoon to excuse himself and quickly retreat to Kkangpae's office to leave you two alone.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind Namjoon seemed louder in the heavy silence that followed. Your eyes darted to it, half-hoping for an interruption, but it was futile. Hoseok's gaze was fixed on you, unrelenting and unreadable, trapping you in this moment.

"Hoseok," you began, your voice trembling. "This isn't fair. You can't just—"

"I can," he interrupted his tone steady but brooking no argument. "And I will. You know I don't take betrayal lightly."

"Betrayal?" you repeated, the word stinging as it left your lips. "Is that what you think this is? Hoseok, I—"

"You ran," he said simply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. His fingers interlocked, creating a casual posture that only heightened your unease. "You left me, you threw the ring at me, you abandoned what we're building. Call it whatever you want, Princess, but to me? That's betrayal."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. "I needed time," you whispered. "Time to think, to—"

No, you needed Mark. But you also needed your best friend.

"Think?" Hoseok's laughter was soft, almost amused, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What is there to think about? You're mine. You've always been mine. And this?" He gestured to the ring now firmly on your finger. "This makes it only official."

"You can't force me to—" you said, the defiance in your voice surprising even you. This was never a discourse you or Hobi ever had. Everything was thought to be just platonic. Not for him.

"To what?" he asked, cutting you off again. His tone was low, dangerously calm. "To wear a ring? To stay by my side? To stop running every time things don't go the way you want?"

You flinched, the truth in his words hitting too close to home. Hoseok sighed, his expression softening just enough to make your heart ache. You were running each time you did not feel like the family was doing you justice. And each time it was Hoseok who came to talk sense into you. But this is different. You are not kids anymore, or teenagers. This is serious. Hoseok is serious this time.

"You know what Anubis means to me—"

"And you still thought it was something you could just walk away from?"

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as the urge to argue warred with the fear.

"I didn't walk away from Anubis," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I needed space, Hoseok."

"You said you were tired, love."

"You misunderstood—" Hoseok shook his head slowly, cutting you off once again, his gaze hardening.

"I never wanted it to come to this," Hoseok said, his voice softening as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. "But you forced my hand, Princess. And now, you don't get to run anymore. Not from me. Not from us."

"But Anubis—"

"It's still yours. But until you learn your place, Namjoon will suffice."

You bit your lip, caught between the suffocating desire to fight back but all you could do is shut your mouth and obey, telling yourself that this is only temporary.

He was, indeed, not mad.

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟎𝟐.𝟏𝟖.𝟐𝟓

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: if you want to be notified once the full story is up for reading, you can write in the comments and I'll create a tag list!

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Martyn raids Ren after revealing he’d accidentally not replied to him and Ren is Dramatic about it.

I cut out a lot of dead air (read: all of the moments of Ren waiting for his sounds to end) to trim this down, and the transcription is under the cut:

Martyn: We should go um, raid, uhm...actually, my boy Ren-Diggity-Dawg's on. Let's go raid Ren. Ren-Diggity-Dawg. Actually I got a message the other day from Ren that I still need to reply to, I just, I saw it before I went live...today, and I was like, ''oop, don't know how that one slipped past me." Is it RenDogTV? It is, right, sweet! Uh, right, enjoy Ren's stream--

Ren: Welcome to all the Marteens, that have arrived in the chat. Martyn, bro. You and--listen. You and me need to have words, Martyn. (three seconds of silence) You know what, cut the music. Cut the music, this is-this is getting serious business now. Zoom in a little bit for dramatic effect. (five seconds of silence)

Ren: Martyn. Bro. (two seconds of silence) I-Why you do me dirty, bro? Eh? What's up? Why you do me dirty like this, bro? (deep inhale) Dear viewers, let me tell you a story. A few days ago. Approximately--you know what, give me one moment, Imma figure out exactly how many days ago. I'm gonna rub the salt in this wound. Mm-mm-mm.

Ren: We're gonna-we're gonna cook this one. Let's see, the twentieth. That's four days ago. Approximately four days ago, I sent a message to Mister Marteen. An important message. A message from the heart. What do I get in return, from Mister Marteen? Crickets. Crickets.

Ren: Give me one second, I need to find a cricket noise. I-I'm not as professional as Martyn, you see. Martyn's got instant access to sound effects because he's a professional. And uh, broadcasting genius. I am uh, you know. A little bit more amateur. Give me one second, guys, I gotta log into Epidemic Sound and everything. It's gonna take a while. Can't remember my password. (keyboard clicking, deep inhale, laughs) Okay, here we go. (keyboard clicking)

(soft cricket noises that sound almost like a fire alarm in the distance play for ten seconds, uninterrupted. In the actual video, this sound plays for twenty-one seconds)

Ren: This is quite a long sample guys, it's two minutes long. Sorry about that. (cricket noises for thirteen seconds. In the actual stream this clip was thirty-five seconds long, and he turned the sound of the crickets up to be louder)

Ren: It's only halfway, guys, you still-still got a while to go. (cricket noises for twelve seconds. In the actual stream this clip was twenty-three seconds long. He then pauses the crickets for four seconds, zooms in on his cubito)

Ren: Pause for dramatic effect. (he starts the crickets again for thirty-five seconds [the full time here and in-stream] before pausing it again)

Ren: That is all I have to say about this matter. Thanks for the raid, Martyn. W-welcome everybody. You joined us right at the start of a trial chamber run. (four seconds of silence, then a fond laugh) And as an update, t-to Marteen-gate. I have received a reply! Hold on, I gotta find another sound effect real quick, one second. One second guys, uh, (keyboard clicking, then the sound of scattered applause and indistinct voices for thirteen seconds)

Ren: I have received a reply from Marteen! (the clip is still going, just indistinct voices) This-this sample is not working for me. (a clip of a motorcycle revving begins to play instead) (flustered laughing) That's n-that sample is not working for me either. Wait, I've got a sample on the stream deck! (applause begins, including happy yelling) I received a reply! (the sample continues to play) (Ren singing) Joy to the world / Marteen has replied! / He has finally / Replied! (deeper voice) After four days. (laughter, normal voice) Thank you for the reply, Marteen. I am very excited. We shall, uh, continue our correspondence, digitally. Upon another platform (laughing under his breath)

Ren: --X-Fandom is here with a gifted sub to Marteen! Ya weren't even subbed?! (silence for four seconds, then decisive keyboard clicking. Then the sound of a cat yowling, which is swiftly replaced by a baby crying for seven seconds, uninterrupted. In the actual stream it is twenty seconds long.) It's quite a long sample, too. Sorry guys. (In the actual clip, the baby continues crying for ten seconds uninterrupted, before Ren laughs over the baby crying, and then pauses it, while this video has only one second pause between baby crying and Ren's laughter) Oh, goodness gracious, I'm having too much fun.

[little-jana]

"Officer Ryan"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff, heated, fade to black smut, still smutty, 18+

Warnings: smut, kissing, jealousy, flirting, touching, fade to black smut, no explicit s*x

Words: ? 2.5k I forgot to look at the wordcount

Summary: Spencer gets jealous of a too nice Officer and they finally confess their feelings, which leads to a perfect first night together.

It wasn’t the most pleasant case to work on, but that was the norm in our line of work. A string of disappearances had brought us to a small coastal town, and the team was operating out of the local precinct. The air smelled faintly of salt and coffee—two things that kept us going during cases like this.

I was leaning over the map laid out on the desk in front of me, pinning down the key locations the victims had last been seen, when I felt a presence behind me. Glancing up, I met the warm, almost too-friendly eyes of Officer Ryan.

“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said, his voice smooth and low. “I’ve seen a lot of agents come through here, but you? You’ve got a real knack for it.”

I smiled politely, though my focus remained on the map. “Just doing my job, Officer Ryan.”

“Call me Kyle,” he said, flashing a grin. He stepped closer, his arm brushing mine as he leaned over to examine the map. “So, what’s a smart, capable woman like you doing in a job like this? Doesn’t it get… dangerous?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “That’s the nature of the job,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Across the room, I caught sight of Spencer, who was talking with Hotch and JJ. Or at least he had been. Now, his gaze was fixed on me and Kyle, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight.

“Still, it’s admirable,” Kyle continued, oblivious to the growing tension. “You ever think about transferring to a smaller precinct? A place like this, where you’d be appreciated more?”

I laughed softly, finally looking up at him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m happy where I am.”

Before Kyle could respond, Spencer appeared at my side, his presence like a sudden storm cloud. “We need to review the victim profiles again,” he said, his voice clipped.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Agent Reid, right? You’ve got quite the reputation. Didn’t realize you were her partner on this.”

Spencer’s gaze didn’t waver. “Doctor. And we’re a team,” he said evenly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of irritation.

“Of course,” Kyle said with a smirk, stepping back slightly but not far enough. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to it. But if you ever need a tour of the area, you know where to find me.”

As Kyle walked away, Spencer let out a sharp breath. “Tour of the area?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “Something you want to say, Doctor Reid?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with himself. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for officers to… distract agents during an active investigation,” he said finally.

I raised an eyebrow. “Distract? Spencer, it was harmless.”

“Harmless?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before leaning in closer. “He was flirting with you.”

I shrugged. “So what? It’s not like I encouraged it.”

“That’s not the point,” he said, his voice low but intense. “We’re here to solve a case, not… entertain advances from people who should know better.”

I stared at him, trying to decipher the storm of emotions behind his words. “Are you seriously upset about this?”

He hesitated, his jaw clenching. “I just don’t like seeing you treated like that. Like you’re… an object of someone’s attention instead of the brilliant agent you are.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. “Spencer…”

Before I could say more, Hotch called for us to regroup, and we had no choice but to drop the conversation.

Hours later, I found Spencer in the precinct’s break room, staring at a file but clearly not reading it.

“Spence,” I said softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up, his expression softening slightly when he saw me. “Hey.”

I closed the door behind me, leaning against it. “About earlier…”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said quickly, though his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the file. “It’s none of my business.”

“Actually, it kind of is,” I said, stepping closer to him. “You’re my friend, and if something bothers you, I want to know.”

He let out a breath, setting the file down. “I just… I didn’t like the way he was talking to you. It made me—” He stopped, his cheeks flushing slightly as he searched for the right word.

“Jealous?” I offered, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.

His eyes darted to mine, wide and uncertain. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly.

I smiled, my heart softening at his vulnerability. “Spence, you don’t have to be jealous. Kyle means nothing to me. But you…” I hesitated, the words hanging in the air between us.

“Me?” he prompted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes Spencer, how could you not know what...". Footsteps interrupted our moment. "We'll talk later", I said in a hushed tone, just as an Officer came around the corner.

---

The precinct was quiet now, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Most of the officers had called it a night, and the rest of the BAU team had dispersed to their rooms. But Spencer and I lingered, the weight of the case and the events of the day still hanging between us.

I leaned back against the edge of the desk, pretending to go over some notes, but my mind kept drifting to Spencer. More specifically, to the way he’d stiffened earlier when Officer Ryan had approached me. The man had been nice enough, polite and professional, but his compliments had been a little too pointed, his interest a little too obvious. And Spencer had noticed.

I glanced over at him now, sitting stiffly in his chair, his eyes fixed on the file in his hands. He was still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. Normally, he had a way of blending into the background, but tonight, he seemed larger than life.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

His eyes flicked up to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw and unguarded in his expression. But then he blinked, and it was gone. “Just thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but distant.

“About the case?” I pressed, though I had a feeling that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Among other things,” he said vaguely, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the file.

I raised an eyebrow, setting my notes aside. “You know, for someone who spends most of his time analyzing other people, you’re not very good at hiding your own emotions.”

His jaw tensed slightly, and he looked away. “I’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Spencer.” I stood and crossed the room, stopping just in front of him. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated, his gaze darting to mine before dropping to the floor. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he let out a long breath, setting the file down on the desk.

“It’s nothing,” he said, though his tone betrayed him. “I just… didn’t like the way that officer was talking to you earlier.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “The Officer?”

He nodded, his expression tight. “He was too familiar. Too… interested.”

I tilted my head, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. “So you are really jealous, Dr. Reid?”

His eyes shot up to meet mine, wide and defensive. “What? No. I mean…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe a little. But it’s not—”

“Why would you be jealous?” I interrupted, stepping closer. My voice softened, my teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “It’s not like there’s anything between us, right?”

His breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to decide whether to step forward or step back. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady.

“Because I don’t want anyone else to have you,” he said simply.

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, sending a shiver down my spine. “Spencer…”

“I know I don’t have the right to feel this way,” he continued, his gaze never leaving mine. “But the thought of someone else—of him—thinking he has a chance with you…” He shook his head, his voice trembling slightly. “It drives me crazy.”

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “You’re an idiot,” I said, though my voice was soft, almost tender.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

I stepped closer, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’re an idiot if you think I’d want anyone else,” I said, my voice firm but laced with emotion. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for months, Spencer. And now, you’re going to sit here and tell me you’re jealous of some random guy?”

His breath caught, his eyes searching mine. “You’ve been waiting for me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” I said, my tone leaving no room for doubt.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, the unspoken emotions between us threatening to spill over. And then, finally, he closed the distance between us.

His hands cupped my face as his lips crashed into mine, the kiss both tender and desperate. I gasped, my hands finding their way to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt as I pulled him closer.

He groaned softly against my lips, his hands sliding down to my waist as he deepened the kiss. There was nothing hesitant or uncertain about the way he kissed me—it was raw and consuming, like he’d been holding back for far too long.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his eyes meeting mine. “Scared that I’d ruin everything. Scared that you didn’t feel the same way.”

I smiled, my fingers brushing against his jaw. “Well, you don’t have to be scared anymore,” I said softly.

He smiled back, that shy, boyish smile that made my heart ache. “I guess not,” he said, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

I brushed my thumb against his jaw, marveling at the way his face softened under my touch.

The silence between us wasn’t heavy anymore; it was charged, humming with unspoken words and simmering tension. His hands lingered on my waist, his fingers twitching slightly, like he was afraid to let go.

“Come with me,” I said softly, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.

His brows furrowed slightly, the question clear in his eyes. “Where?”

I swallowed, feeling my pulse quicken. “To my room. I… I don’t want this moment to end here.”

For a second, I thought he might hesitate. But then his grip on my waist tightened slightly, his gaze searching mine. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something I couldn’t quite name but felt all the way to my core.

We left the precinct quietly, the night air cool against my flushed skin as we walked to the hotel. The anticipation was palpable, each step drawing us closer to something we couldn’t take back but didn’t want to.

By the time we reached my door, my hands were trembling slightly as I slid the keycard into the lock. Spencer was so close behind me that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the subtle scent of his cologne making my head spin.

The door clicked open, and I stepped inside, turning to face him as he followed me in. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow across the room, but all I could focus on was him—the way his tie was slightly askew, the way his hair was just a little messier than usual.

He stood there for a moment, his eyes taking me in as if he were committing every detail to memory. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

I stepped closer, reaching up to loosen his tie. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said, my voice firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

His breath hitched slightly as I slid the tie from his collar, letting it fall to the floor. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands finding my waist again.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his gaze intense. “I’ve been thinking it for months. You’re brilliant and strong and so beautiful it hurts sometimes.”

The raw honesty in his voice took my breath away. I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair as I pulled him down into another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world to explore the unspoken emotions between us.

His hands roamed up my back, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss. My heart was pounding, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my forehead resting against his as I tried to steady myself. “Spencer…” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, his hands sliding down to my hips. “You’re safe with me.”

I smiled, my heart swelling at his words. “I know.”

His breath mingled with mine as we stood in the dim glow of the hotel room, the air thick with everything we hadn’t said. Spencer’s hands hovered at my waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of my shirt like he was trying to memorize the texture.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, “and I will.”

I tilted my head up, brushing my lips against his. “I won’t.”

That was all it took. His lips were on mine again, hungry and desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. I gasped against his mouth, my hands finding their way to his hair, tugging gently as I deepened the kiss.

Spencer groaned softly, the sound reverberating through me, and I felt his hands move lower, tracing the curve of my waist with a reverence that made my knees weak. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with awe.

I smiled against his lips, my fingers trailing down the buttons of his shirt. “You’ve mentioned that,” I teased, though my voice trembled slightly.

He chuckled, the sound low and breathless, before catching my lips again. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying it,” he admitted, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt to rest against my bare skin.

The heat of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped me. “Spencer…”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and filled with emotion. “I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re everything, you know that?”

I swallowed hard, my heart swelling at his words. “Show me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips were back on mine, more urgent this time, as he guided me toward the bed. The backs of my knees hit the edge, and I fell back, pulling him down with me.

His weight settled over me, grounding me, and I felt his hands move to my hips, his thumbs brushing against the sliver of skin exposed by my shirt. Every touch, every kiss was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every moment.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with both desire and hesitation.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “More than okay,” I murmured, pulling him down into another kiss.

The rest of the world faded away as we lost ourselves in each other, the unspoken tension between us finally giving way to something deeper, something undeniable. Every kiss, every touch was a silent promise—a vow that this was just the beginning of something neither of us could walk away from.

When we finally lay tangled together in the soft glow of the room, his fingers brushing gently against my arm, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t known I’d been missing.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain.

“Told me what?” I asked, tilting my head up to look at him.

“How much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “How much I care about you.”

I smiled, my chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “I think I got the message,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

He laughed quietly, his arms tightening around me. “I just don’t want you to ever doubt it,” he said, his voice serious.

“I won’t,” I promised, resting my head against his chest.

As the night stretched on, we talked in hushed tones, sharing secrets and fears we’d kept locked away. And when we finally fell asleep, tangled together in the soft glow of the room, it wasn’t just with the warmth of his arms around me but with the knowledge that this was only the beginning

[losers-clvb]

woman of letters // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x man of letters!female!reader

summary: sam and dean discover the bunker of the men of letters. expecting it to be empty, they get quite the shock when they meet you.

content: swearing, canon level violence, reader is very inexperienced in combat, mutual pining between dean and reader, reader is slightly injured by dean, mentions of family death, idiots in love trope

word count: 3.8k

note: read on wattpad here. this is my first series with dean! i'm not sure how many parts, but i wanted to share this with the world. there will be smut in later parts. if you look up "dark academia outfit" on pinterest and scroll, that is how i envisioned the reader dressing.

masterlist series masterlist next part

----

Sam and Dean entered the bunker wearily. They didn’t know what they were walking into. There could be a demon, or worse, waiting for them to arrive. They had their guns drawn as they moved down the stairs into a large room. Stone walls were made more comfortable by the warm lighting in the space. Sam eyed a doorway that seemed to lead to a library of sorts. Dean readjusted his grip on his gun and traveled deeper into the bunker. Sam opted to explore the library first instead of following his brother.

The walls were filled with books varying in color and size. His eyes raked across the titles and keywords jumped out at him: vampire, werewolf, witch. He felt like a kid in a candy store. He continued to survey the room. There were velvet upholstered chairs in the corners of the room. A couple tables were placed in the center of the room. There wasn’t anything strange about them initially. Sam then noticed the open book and steaming mug of coffee. Someone was here. Sam tightened his hold on his gun and whirled around.

Standing behind him was a girl. You. You wore dress pants and a white button-up shirt. The gun you held in your shaking hand glinted in the light. This either meant it was brand new or it had never been used. By the way you awkwardly held the weapon with two hands, Sam was willing to bet it was the second option. The expression on your face was stony but behind that Sam could see the fear coursing through you. You were scared. Frightened like a baby deer that got separated from his mother. But you couldn’t tell this intruder that.

“Whoa.” Sam tried to put you at ease but refused to lower his own gun. You swallowed and shifted on your feet. You continued your silence while reading his body language. Weapons you hated, but psychology was where you thrived. You needed to determine what this man was here for. Lost in your mind, you failed to notice the way Sam’s eyes drifted over your shoulder where Dean was creeping up behind you.

Faster than you could fight off, the man behind you kicked the back of your knees. You were on the ground on your hands and knees, your gun sliding away from you. You scrambled for it and whimpered when it was swept up into Dean’s hand. Sam’s gun was still trained on you. Dean scoffed after looking over your weapon.

“Safety’s still on, sweetheart.” Dean shot at you while restraining your wrists behind your back with handcuffs. You were really panicking now. This was not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to keep this place safe and in a few short minutes you were rendered useless to that cause by a couple of strangers.

Dean pulled out a canister of something. Poison, you assumed. They were here to kill you. He forced your mouth open and poured the substance into your mouth. Instantly, you spat it out of your mouth. Not poison, salt. You looked at the man with an incredulous expression. What the hell was he doing to you? You watched the two men exchange a look before Sam handed Dean a flask with a cross on it. A thought crossed your mind, something from your readings. Holy water, you thought. You coughed out the liquid when it was splashed into your face. Regaining your breath, you glared at the men.

 “I’m not a demon.” You spoke, shocking the men in front of you. They flexed their jaws in anger, moving closer to you. Your eyes widened.

“Then what the hell are you?” Dean asked. You were hesitant to answer. These men had broken into your home, tied you up, and were demanding information when you didn’t even know their names. You weren’t about to tell them what you really were, though if they found a way into the bunker they already had an idea.

“Human.” You spat, hoping they would settle for that answer. Of course they didn’t. Dean searched for any clues about who, or what, you were. The holy water had trickled down on your chest, turning your shirt see through. He could see a dark mark peeking through the fabric. He grabbed at the collar of your shirt and yanked it down to reveal it. A logo.

“Take me to dinner first, pretty boy.” You sneered out and yanked your body away. Sarcasm was one of your favorite defenses. Your shirt slipped from his fingers and he looked at Sam again.

“Man of Letters.” Sam spoke out, talking to Dean but you still heard it. You rolled your eyes. It was a sexist name created by a bunch of men far before your time.

“Woman of Letters.” You corrected, causing Dean to snort out a sarcastic laugh. He crouched down so he was face to face with you.

“Alright, Rosie the Riveter, why don’t you tell me how exactly you got here.” Dean offered, raising his eyebrows. You raised your own eyebrows back.

“I could ask you the same.” Your breath fanned Dean’s face. He ground his teeth in irritation and stood. With his eyes finally off of you, you let your mask of strength fall. Your breath quickened while you tried to think of a way out. Unfortunately, you were more book smart than street smart and your research had never gone into detail on how to fight off two asshole men once they had taken you prisoner. They were standing off to the corner and you could just barely catch what they were saying.

“-- can’t just leave her tied up, Dean.” The taller man spoke to who you now knew to be Dean. You narrowed your eyes at the name. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Well, we can’t let her go, Sammy!” Dean’s voice was insistent. Dean and Sammy. Sammy and Dean. You’d heard those names before.

“Winchester.” You breathed out. It caught their attention, throwing them off guard.

“What?” Sam asked, blinking at you. You looked up at him.

“Sam and Dean Winchester. Hunters.” You were talking mostly to yourself now, but what you were saying was putting the boys into a state of unease.

“How do you know that?” Dean stomped towards you, gun aimed at your forehead. You knew he wouldn’t shoot you. Despite your own opinions on hunters in general, you now realized how they were able to find the bunker. Henry Winchester. You were unsure of the details, but you were certain that their grandfather had somehow led them here. When Dean cocked the gun, you blurted out your next words.

“Your grandfather was a Man of Letters. I read about him in the texts.” You turned your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You flinched when you felt the gun move from your direction. The relief was short lived when you heard a knife unsheath. Maybe he was going to kill you.

“Please.” The pleading statement escaped your lips against your will as a final attempt to save your life. You may not have gone out much but you weren’t ready to die. Imagine how you felt when the ropes tangled around your wrists loosened. You immediately grasped at one of them, examining where the skin was rubbed raw.

“Now answer.” Sam’s voice was demanding. “How do you know about us?”

You pulled yourself to your feet. Your hair was mussed, clothing wet and wrinkled, and salt granules still clung to your chin. You walked to your workstation where your now cold coffee sat. The day of studying you had planned was now ruined.

“You guys are everywhere. News, social media, letters to loved ones.” You listed the sources you had learned about the Winchester brothers while returning the books to their rightful places. You heard two pairs of footsteps walking in your direction.

“Letters?” Dean was confused. Did you mean your own loved ones, or other people’s?

“Yeah. Some of the people you helped, and some families that you kind of didn’t,” you held a finger gun up to your head to help your words take meaning, “wrote of you to their aunts, uncles, grandparents. The letters were intercepted and copies were made for the archives here.” You gestured around you, though no information on the boys were in the room you were currently in. Sam tilted his head curiously.

“You stole mail?” The tall man asked, worried for any of his own letters. You turned to him defensively.

“I have allies in the postal offices, I gave the letters back.” You grabbed the handle of your mug, frowning when you felt the cold ceramic on your skin. You walked to the kitchen, Sam and Dean following behind you like lost puppies.

“Again, how did you become a Man--,” Dean winced at the look you shot him, “Woman of Letters?” You turned around to face the two men. They stared down at you, Dean looking skeptical and Sam curious to learn.

“My grandfather.” You blinked at them when their expressions didn’t change. “What?”

“The Men of Letters all died in the 1950’s.” Dean grumbled out. You rolled your eyes. He really needed to gain an imagination.

“Not him. He was here. Once my parents died,” -- this piqued Dean’s interest -- “I joined him and he inducted me into the society.” You decided you needed to clean up from the earlier interrogation. You pushed between Sam and Dean. Again, the men followed. The hall was decorated about the same as the library, sconces on the wall lighting the way to the living quarters. You twisted the knob on one of the doors to reveal a room that looked far more lived in than the rest of the bunker.

“Your parents are dead?” Dean asked as you fluttered about your room. You pulled a sweater off a hanger in the wardrobe. You looked to him while unbuttoning your shirt.

“Plane crash.” You knew he was asking how they died. It wasn’t from some enemy of the society or a supernatural force. It was a simple mistake made by a newly licensed pilot. You had your time to grieve over them, so voicing their deaths wasn’t difficult anymore. Dean’s eyes didn’t leave your body when you removed your soiled top. You replaced the garment with the sweater.

You interested him. You were too smart for your own good but somehow not stuck up like the other Men of Letters he had encountered. You also seemed to be the last member living, unknown to the rest of the world. Instead of continuing his questioning, he opted to wash the dirt and grime from his body.

“You got a shower around here somewhere?”

----

Night had fallen upon the world outside, but the bunker was unrestrained by the daylight. You were lounging in the library with a book in your lap. This book was for your own entertainment, consisting of silly plot lines and romance. You had shown Sam and Dean to the empty rooms, allowing them to take their pick. It had been hours since then and it was the last interaction you had with them. You were now wearing a matching silk pajama set and fuzzy socks, your slippers laying abandoned on the floor.

“How long have you been alone?” It was Sam, though you imagined Dean wasn’t far behind him. You closed your book before answering.

“Thirteen years.” You weren’t used to this much human interaction. Usually by this time you had your favorite songs playing through the bunker while you cooked your dinner.

“And your grandfather?”

“Cancer.”

“Oh.”

You smiled at Sam. You had heard stories of him and his brother. They varied in intensity, but the overall consensus was that they brought nothing but bad news with them. Sam had started the apocalypse, an event that had locked down the bunker until you had managed to get it to open back up. Dean had gone to Hell and back, literally. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had learned this from the horribly written Supernatural books.

All of these stories and yet, with Sam in front of you with his big brown eyes, you couldn’t help but think that the world was wrong for thinking these boys were anything but good. You knew what they had lost, who they had lost and how. Yes, you had experienced grief before, but you had lost your family to human tragedies. You hadn’t gotten close with anyone else after your grandfather, though you knew you needed to find members to take over your responsibilities once you died. You just weren’t good with people, not in the long term.

“He was old. It was inevitable.” You dismissed the pity on his face. Sam shrugged and joined you on the couch where you were stretched out. You moved your socked feet to make room for him to sit.

“You don’t leave the bunker?” Sam asked you, still confused as to how they had never heard of you. You shook your head.

“I leave for food and information, then I return. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“No friends?” You rolled your eyes at the question, though it did strike you as odd that you never had the urge to grow a connection with someone else.

“I don’t need friends, I have the texts.” You used as defense. Sam frowned at your words. Sure, he didn’t have the best track record with keeping relationships, but he had Bobby, Dean, and occasionally Castiel. You had no one.

“If you say so.” With Sam’s answer, a silence fell over the room. Despite the fact that you had just met the man, it was a comfortable silence. You had lived so long being alone with your only connection to the outside world being the television you had installed in your room. You knew pop culture references but had no one to tell them to. You were witty and sarcastic, but no one knew. You had come to peace with it long ago, but now you were thinking you shouldn’t have.

The sound of a door opening down the hall caught your attention. It was Dean, leaving his room to join you and Sam. He entered with a grin. He had decided, very uncharacteristically, to give you some trust. He wasn’t going to let you drive his car or put his life in your hands, but he would be kind to you. In a way, you reminded him of Charlie, in a non lesbian-little-sister kind of way. You gestured to the empty chair that stood near the couch and Dean accepted.

“Sorry for the whole salt and holy water thing.” Dean apologized after sitting. You crinkled your nose and brushed a thumb over your wrists. They were still red from earlier but brought no pain, only annoyance.

“You should be sorry for the bruise on the back of my thigh.” You reminded him of the blow he had landed on your legs. Dean winced at the memory. Not the best way to introduce himself, but he was on high alert at the time. You nodded at his response and looked to the the intricate rug that garnished the floor.

“Who taught you how to shoot?” Dean inquired. He remembered your weak stance and the fact that you still had the safety on the gun. You flushed at the fact that he had found something you lacked skill in. You could write wonderfully, recall every detail from a lecture or text, even pick your words eloquently. When it came to weapons and physical combat, you were no better than a child. Actually, a child could probably aim better than you.

“YouTube.” You mumbled to Dean. He laughed at the answer, which caused you to want to defend yourself.

“I’m not exactly used to being attacked down here. No one knows I exist.” You perked your head up with a new realization. “Though I suppose with the two of you here, I may be more susceptible to unsavory visitors.” You looked between the brothers. Now they were the ones wanting to defend themselves.

“We… you… monsters…” Dean sputtered out, but eventually came to the conclusion that you were correct. Evil beings would most likely come after them down here. You felt Dean’s next words, the ones that were going to tell you they were going to leave and you would never see them again. Something in you jumped to keep him from speaking.

“You can stay, of course, but you’ll need to teach me some techniques.” You offered the lifeline and Dean took it. He had never had a home growing up, not really. It was smelly motel to even smellier motel with stifling car rides with his dad in between. Now he had a place to return to, a room, a kitchen, a warm shower. It helped a pretty girl like you came with the space. He felt a draw to you unlike any before. No one, not even Lisa, had made him feel like this. He wanted to protect you, but he also wanted you to comfort him. He wanted your body and your mind, all of it, and he had only known you a few hours.

“It’s a deal.” Dean answered with Sam chiming in with a similar sentiment. You had a feeling these boys were here to stay.

----

“Hit me harder.” Dean growled out for the fourth time. It was late morning and the beginning of your training wasn’t going well. It had started out rough, with you only owning the business casual dress wear that made you look like a character straight out of a dark academia movie. After you were dressed in a pair of Dean’s sweatpants you could pull tight with the drawstring and a tank top, Dean had complained when Sam insisted on doing stretches before any sparring. Then came the actual punches.

You were weak, you knew that. You hadn’t taken a gym class since you were nine and only God knows the last time you even glanced at weights. You figured you could land a hit, but Dean hadn’t even flinched when you hit the block of padding he held in front of him. He pushed you to hit harder, but the repeated failures frustrated you. When you got frustrated, Dean felt the tension, which affected his mood. Now you were both angry in a space meant for fighting. Sam stood off to the side. He was getting the sense he would have to jump in soon to stop an argument from occurring.

“Shut up.” You muttered through gritted teeth and hit at the padding again. You looked to Dean for approval. He shook his head again.

“Harder.”

The word had been your final straw. You had woken up with the full intention to work at this until you succeeded. Though a small part of you had expected you would be instantly good at it. You didn’t like not being good at things, that was why you leaned toward more academic studies. You threw your hands down to your side and glared at Dean.

“I’m done.” You stomped out of the room. Dean shoved the padding into Sam’s chest and stalked after you. He wasn’t going to let you give up that easily.

“What if demons come?” Dean shouted out as he followed you to the kitchen. He was trying to give you real life scenarios, but you were having none of it.

“Let them kill me.” You didn’t mean it, you were just being stubborn. You drank water from the glass you had filled, chest heaving from exhaustion and rage. Dean watched you with eyes on fire. It seemed you two were going to butt heads more than expected.

“Then what happens, huh? There’s no one to take your place here if you’re dead!” Dean argued back. He knew it would strike at you. The Men of Letters were big on legacies and you had no heirs to stake claim on the bunker. You gritted your teeth together. You weren’t thinking anymore, you were just trying to get out of the uncomfortable situation.

“I would offer the place to you but your half-wit brain wouldn’t be able to keep up!” You shouted in his face and stormed away again. This time Dean didn’t follow you. He instead stretched his neck and glared at the wall. He wasn’t hurt by the words themselves, more at the reason why you had said them. He knew his strengths and they didn’t include reading books all day. You had aimed to hurt him, a fact that had him cursing ever wanting to trust you at all. There was a reason he was slow to let people in and you had just confirmed that instinct. Sam lumbered into the kitchen and watched as Dean ran a hand over his face.

“What was that?” Sam asked, arms outstretched in disbelief. Dean did a little shake of his head.

“She’s impossible.” He gestured with his hand to the way you had left. Sam sighed.

“She’s been alone for over a decade.” Sam reminded him. Dean shook his head again. He didn’t want to be rational right now. He knew why he was so angry. Every punch you didn’t land sent the image of your frightened doe eyes from yesterday flashing across his vision. You had been helpless to the invasion and he never wanted you to feel like that again. He just wasn’t ready to admit that right now.

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean crossed his arms. Sam scoffed at the reaction and rolled his eyes. You two were giving him a serious headache.

“Go apologize.” Sam offered. He knew this wouldn’t come without a fight. Just as he expected, Dean’s nostrils flared in refusal.

“No way.”

“Dean.”

“Sam.”

“Dean.”

“Listen, I’m not going to tell that bratty, selfish woman that I’m sorry for trying to help her not get ganked by something!” Dean lashed out on Sam. What he had failed to notice before his outcry was you, now dressed in your usual attire, strolling past the doorway to the kitchen. His words made you set your jaw in anger. You cleared your throat to get his attention. The moment Dean’s eyes fell on you his anger softened.

“If that’s how you really feel then maybe we should put an end to the training.” You bit out before continuing on your way to the garage. You needed to meet with your informant from city hall and the refrigerators were growing bare. You heard Dean calling your name, regret dripping in his tone, but you ignored him. If he wanted to talk nasty about you then he didn’t deserve your time.

[tjmsteph]

˗ˏˋ stephanie brown accessible entry point

this is a list of comics to understand the basics of her character! ive seen a lot of people who didnt know where to start to read so ive compiled this list to make it as easy as possible for new readers to get into stephanie brown

who is stephanie brown?

daughter of the criminal and abusive father cluemaster (arthur brown), she became the spoiler to ‘spoil’ her father’s robbery and overall to protect herself and her mother from him. eventually she digs the vigilante life. she becomes robin briefly and is currently one of the batgirls!

as SPOILER:

⟢ secret origins: 80-page giant

this comic /technically/ is set in the future and is steph ‘telling the story of her childhood’ but honestly i find it pretty suitable even with no context and a must read in my eyes to understand her motives and character

⟢ detective comics 647 - 649

her first appearance… with the iconic brick in the face 😭 this comic is not set in a precise timeline, just post-robin 1991 and pre-knightfall so you can read it with no context as well!

⟢ showcase ‘95 #5 (second story)

PLEASE READ THIS i never see it in reading lists and its sooo important to me. it shows steph’s strained relationship with her mother when her dad is not in the picture and briefly some of her school life!

i’d say read robin (1993) afterwards because it consistently features steph, as much as it is ‘tim’s solo run’, but here THE most important stories (they were very hard to pick)

⟢ robin (1993) #3 - 5

her first appearance in the monthly! and lordd the timsteph here makes me sick. tim being saved by steph 🫶 also more on her and her mom as crystal is starting recovery from drug addiction

⟢ robin (1993) issue 15 - 16

not gonna lie, a huge part of me wants me to suggest it because you get to see arthur get his ass kicked by steph (sweet revenge) but theres also steph being saved by tim for a change and more on steph’s relationship with her dad

⟢ robin (1993) #35

this story for me conveys properly the impact that steph’s upbringing had on her sense of justice and morality being fundamentally different from batman and robin’s, something tim and bruce just can’t understand

⟢ robin (1993) #40 - 41

warning / implied SA (ariana ☹️) the story is a two-parter, steph’s side in issue 40 uses diary entries to explain how she feels about the whole vigilante ordeal. issue 41 is more timsteph oriented but it shows tim finally acknowledging his feelings for steph

⟢ huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma

this story happens during cataclysm but its not necessary to read the whole thing + dean’s first appearance 😒 he is the scumbag bastard ‘father of steph’s child’ + helena and steph linkup!!

⟢ robin (1993) #54 and 56-57

BAD CASE OF THE STEPHS MENTIONED + steph and crystal bonding and tim and steph getting together!!! + robin 57 as guilty pleasure :3 their first official date

⟢ robin (1993) #58-65

warning: dixon tackling teen pregnancy. we all know how that goes. remember dean? well steph got pregnant! and that guy bailed on her. dean when i get you. this arc breaks me everytime, steph you deserve the world ☹️

⟢ lewis era robin (1993) aka robin #100 - 120 HEAVY ON ROBIN 111

warning for SA / glimpses on steph’s childhood + dealing with the fact that her father is dead etc etc that will just make you think we should all just kill ourselves yk!!!!

as ROBIN:

⟢ robin (1993) #126 - 128

warning: debatable writing. robin steph! but take everything with like 5 pinches of different salts 😭 its bad y’all but it is essential. dan didio when i get your ass. dan didio when i get youuu

⟢ steph is dead! arc aka batman 634, detective comics 800 and 809, batgirl 62

i fucking hate war games so im not putting y'all through that. here instead: tim being so overcome by grief he can barely react to steph's passing, bruce remembering steph and cass hallucinating her as she is about to die

after that please just imagine that steph came back cause about every issue after her death was the worst ooc writing ever so, again, not putting you guys through that (its tough for stephanie brown fans)

as BATGIRL:

⟢ batgirl (2009)

i wanna say im conflicted about its writing but its about the best thing steph had post-revival. they constantly insult her spoiler legacy so not a fan of that!! but it is essential and i mostly like the rest so whatever :3 steph’s uni arc!

after that honestly nothing happened for her character, so heres on hoping she gets more stuff

[salemrph]

The Taste of Romance (Valentine’s Day)

Summary: What was meant to be a quiet Valentine’s Day with Sylus, making chocolate together, takes a turn when a mission interrupts: chasing down Heartbreaker.

Character: Sylus & Reader

Genre: romantic, fluffy, slightly action

Word count: 5,572 | Reading Time: 22 min | AO3

A/N: After today's banner, I just had to release this, because it's pretty much what I was expecting, something like this: A cute mission hunting Heartbreaker, with a super romantic outcome. Making chocolate and decorating a cake. And kisses, lots of them.

 {Pop Candy Song BGM}

You spent the last day searching for a good recipe online, strolling through pastries and sweets shops in Linkon. On the kitty cat calendar display on the wall of your kitchen, February 14th is marked with a little heart in red. Well, it is actually tomorrow. This is your third attempt making chocolates this week. You have everything you need: a box, sugar pens and flowers, gift wrap, strawberry and tons of other decorations stuff. Your idea is to create a special box, for a special gentleman that stole your heart, soul and body. 

Somehow you keep messing up with portions, you follow the instructions step by step, but always something goes wrong. The milk is too hot, too much sugar… you feel a bit like Xavier trying to not burn down your place. The other attendants were interrupted by an urgent mission, or you managed to drop the bowl or put in salt instead of sugar. 

The caw of Mephisto, sitting on the microwave, is a signal to stir the mixture. The bird can be useful even during moments like this. Mephisto seems even happy to help you out. Is strange how well you get along with him. Sometimes he gets on your nerves, especially when he steals all the shiny items you have. But you like him, and it's just as fun as fighting with Luke and Kieran.This little crow family you've joined, despite their “evil” aura, are all good people. And no one can convince you otherwise. Come to thinking of it, maybe you should make choco popcake for the twins. Giving chocolate to the mechanical crow… You stare at Mephisto, who cocks his head in response to your piercing gaze. No… You shake your head. Not a good idea. 

The kitchen smelled of rich, melted chocolate, the warmth of it mixing with the familiar comfort of home. You had been carefully stirring the glossy mixture, completely absorbed in your task, when—

"What are you doing, sweetie?"

The deep sexy voice of your boyfriend makes you hitch. If you were a real cat you would have jumped, fur bristling and tail puffed in alarm. Surely hiding yourself on top of the kitchen cabinet. Although your Hunter senses are exceptional, being at home you usually lower your guard. Your heart jumps and you almost drop the bowl, again…

"I told you to stay out of the kitchen" you huffed, turning to glare at Sylus.

He leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I didn’t agree to that. Besides, where should I hide in this small apartment?" 

“Why are you here in the first place? I told you I was busy” you hide the bowl behind your back. Actually the kitchen is a mess, opened packages of chocolates scattered across the counter, the strawberries you had bought are still in their cold water bath. You’re a good cook, decent at baking, but working with chocolate? That is another topic. For the occasion, when you were buying all your supplies for this mission, you bought yourself a very cute apron. Which you are wearing right now to prevent staining your outfit. Underneath it, you wear comfy shorts and a white t-shirt.

“A certain kitten ignored me all week, so I decided to drop by and spend some time with her.” His lips curve into a slow smirk. “But somehow, I ended up banned from the kitchen, and Mephisto got demoted to a kitchen clock.” His voice drips with mock offense, but the way he watches you, eyes sweeping over your domestic outfit examining you slowly from top to bottom… Tells you he’s more entertained than anything, the amusement literally dancing in his eyes.

The small apron snug around your waist and chest, the loose strands of hair slipping free from your high ponytail, the way your oversized t-shirt shifts when you fidget under his stare. You’re a mess. Flustered and completely unaware of just how lovely you look. Sylus smiles, noticing that you’re definitely not wearing a bra. It might just be his lucky day.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. His gaze moves to the bowl behind your back, curiosity flashing behind the red glowing eyes.

"So… what exactly are you doing?”

You meet his gaze with a sly smile, tilting your head just slightly. "I’m preparing poison."

His smirk deepened. "Poison? Sweetie, if you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways."

Before you could react, he stepped in, closing the distance in a way that made your pulse stutter. His body caged you against the counter, warmth radiating off him. His attention goes down to the spoon still in your hand, his fingers grazing your wrist as he tilted his head in amusement.

"What kind of poison will it be?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, you felt a little nervous again but you held your ground. "The kind you can’t separate from normal food."

Sylus hummed. In a swift motion, he plucked the spoon from your grasp, bringing it to his lips without breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked against the chocolate before he tasted it, a low, satisfied hum vibrating in his throat.

"Hmm… dangerous" he mused, licking the remnants from the spoon. Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks as his free hand settled on your waist. "Should I be worried, sweetie?" he teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, chocolate lingering on his breath.

“Always" you whispered, barely able to focus with the way he was looking at you. Sylus laughed softly, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against yours—just enough to make you chase the touch.

He lifts you onto the counter, his smirk never fading as he leans in, his lips still hovering, teasing you. Just as you think he'll kiss you, he pulls back, holding up the spoon coated with the last traces of chocolate.

“Lick” he ordered softly. You hesitate, eyes flickering between the spoon and his glowing red eyes. “For poison, it tastes good” he jokes. 

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly drag your tongue along the spoon, savoring the rest of the dark mixture. Sylus inhales sharply, his pupils darkening as his grip on your thigh tight. His cock getting harder by the second. You can feel the shift in the air, the tension between you two raising. When you finish, he titles his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Messy kitten” he says low, brushing his thumb along the corner of your mouth spotted with sweetness. 

Before he can lean in again—

Bip bip bip!!! Your hunter watch shatters the moment. Your groan as your head falls back. You've got to be kidding me. You click your tongue in irritation. Sylus exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against your thigh before he pulls away entirely. The warmth of his body vanishes, replaced by the cold reality of duty. He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms, you can tell he's annoyed as much as you are.

Between his businesses and your jobs, having this moment is almost rare. You managed to video call, send each other messages and you try as much as possible to be with him. Now for Valentine's Day you requested two free days, so you could finish the box with strawberries and chocolate. 

You shoot him a glare before tapping the watch, the holographic interface lighting up with an incoming mission briefing. Your free day is gone. Just like that. You sigh, already slipping off the counter.

Priority Alert: Hunter (Y/N) Required. Immediate Deployment. Target—Wanderer: Heartbreaker.

You scroll through the report, brows furrowing. "It’s… been messing with couples. Destroying their date spots, ruining chocolate shipments, even sabotaging proposals." You pause. "Wow. It's really committed.”

Sylus lets out a dry chuckle. "So, you're going to hunt a depressed little menace who hates love?”

"I hope it's not as slippery as Pumpkin Magnus. This is serious.” 

Running after that Wanderer near to New Year was exhausting. At least you had fun during the event. The lantern you made together is still hanging at his base. 

“Because nothing screams ‘deadly mission’ like chasing that thing before it cancels Valentine’s Day.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small laugh that slips out. "Come on, we need to move.”

you prompt as you start grabbing your gear, moving to your bedroom to change into your uniform. Sylus seems to be a bit out of track. 

“We?" He raises an eyebrow. He follows you, not wanting to miss how you change. "I don’t remember signing up for this mission." He's distracted when you reveal your body, pulling your T-shirt over your head. He knew it, no bra today. His dick is still half hard. Sylus wanted so badly to have you that evening. Making you whimper his name, seeing you getting all sweaty and naughty. Kissing your belly, worshiping you in all senses. His plans were crushed in a moment. You glance at him over your shoulder, half naked grabbing your uniform from the chair. 

"Please. You always end up involved in my missions one way or another.” You move quickly. 

He leans against the doorframe, watching you with open amusement. "That’s different. Also I was busy with something else before someone’s annoying watch ruined the evening.”

You huff. "Well, if you're not coming, I’ll just—”

"Did I say I wasn’t coming?" His voice is smooth, teasing. 

If he can't have fun with your body then at least he would accompany you through this little adventure. Spending time with you is always fun and it doesn't really matter what you two are doing. 

Later in the city

“This the last spot where Heartbreaker was seen” you close the file on your watch. The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the winter sun. The lake stretches out before you, its surface rippling slightly under the breeze, reflecting the bright light of the evening. A few boats remain docked, swaying gently, their chains clinking against the wooden posts. Mephisto is scanning the area, flying over the park.

“The last couple attacked was right here. Their boat capsized, and they both ended up breaking up on the spot.”

Tracking Heartbreaker could be complicated. You look around to find some evidence of why, where and how it attacks the couples. You walk around with Sylus next to you. The scanner of your watch give you an update:

“No abnormal energy spikes detected. Traces of Wanderer activity linger near the dock.”

You nod, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “It doesn’t just pick any couple… don’t you think?”

Sylus smirks, his gaze flicks to the lake. "So, what’s the plan? Rent a boat, act all lovey-dovey, and lure the thing out?"

You let out a small sigh, tapping your fingers against your arm. “Probably it will work, but it doesn't mean it will appear right here. Which means it could take some time to find it…” You pause, then turn to face him, tilting your head slightly. “Sylus… can you be even romantic?” 

“I feel offended, kitten. Wasn't my affection not clear enough.”

You snort, shifting your weight onto one leg. “Let me think, you've taken me on several “date-missions”, using me as an armory, shield and bodyguard. And let’s not forget, you introduced me as just a friend during the museum event.”

“That's what it's all about.” Sylus lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Then, why don’t you teach me what it means to be romantic…”

“Do you want to take on this challenge?”

“You're always so competitive, sweetie. Why not?”

“Then less see who can make first appear Heartbreaker” 

As the evening stretches on, the two of you move through different spots known for romantic outings. First, a charming café where couples linger over half-finished desserts and whispered conversations. You glance at the menu and realize everything is designed for two: shared platters, couple-themed drinks, even desserts that come in matching sets. You realice most of the people are wearing matching outfits. You wonder if going around in the same outfits would be something you would do with him. Buying everything in a double set. Wearing the same pajamas, drinking from identical mugs, layering yourselves in matching sweaters… You have been wearing matching bracelets since the mission with the gem. Your fingers brush over it absentmindedly as you stir your drink, lost in thought. The dessert you ordered a while ago lay in front of you untouched. Sylus leans forward in his chair, smirking at your focused expression. 

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” you're still lost in thought, your mind drifting over ways to be more romantic with him, until he suddenly holds up a spoonful of dessert in front of your nose. “Open” He orders you, you grimace at his sudden assertiveness but obey, letting him feed you. 

That’s 10 points for Sylus, feeding you is a way to be romantic.

Next stop is a flower garden, where lovers stroll between glowing lanterns and fragrant blossoms. Sylus plucks a small pink flower off a tree, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind your ear with a teasing grin. "That’s romantic enough for you, sweetie?" he murmurs slightly amusted. You roll your eyes but don't take off the flower.

“You can do better…” as you turn around to look around, which flower would match him the best? A red one catches your eyes, small and with delicate petals. You pull out several and turn back to him. "Bend down". You place one in his hair and another behind his ear. Sylus looks at you intensely, the warm light of the garden softening his features. You feel your heart begin to race. The beauty that this man radiates is out of this world, every time you remember this fact you don't understand how no one appreciates what you are seeing.

Just like at the New Year's market, the lady at the doll stand referred to Sylus as a tiger, someone fierce and intimidating. And although he certainly usually has that look, and he teases you about taming him, he has a soft spot. You see that every time you reflect yourself in his eyes. That’s truly something that makes you happy. 

Sylus gently grabs your hand, kissing the knuckles of your fingers. Bowing to his beloved lady. “Only you can touch me like this…” the intensity of the moment makes you blush.

By nightfall, you find yourselves at the promenade, the city lights shimmering on the river’s surface. Couples are everywhere, walking hand in hand, nestled on benches, whispering to each other under the soft glow of street lamps. Sylus and you take a seat on an empty bench, the cool night air carrying the sound of laughter and distant music. 

You lean back, exhaling. "Well, this is the third couple’s spot on the list, and still no sign of Heartbreaker."

Sylus stretches, his arm casually draping over the back of the bench almost around you. "Maybe, it's scared of us. Or maybe…" he tilts his head, watching the couples nearby, "...it only appears when there’s actual romance in the air."

You glance at him "Are you saying we’re not romantic enough?"

He smirks, leaning in just a little. "You tell me, kitten. Has there been a moment that made your heart race?"

“Not yet” you lie and he notices it. Is written all over your face. “And you, have I made your hearts race?” 

“No…” He points out nonchalantly. You feel offended and disappointed. Your lips press into a thin line, and you scoff, looking away. 

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and amused. "Oh? Are you disappointed?"

"Obviously" you huff, refusing to meet his gaze.

He shifts closer, trapping you on the bench. His smell invades you, you want to lie on his chest and let him caress your back while he reads you a poem. His voice dropped to a whisper "You shouldn’t be." Before you can ask what he means, he takes your hand, guiding it to his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is steady but strong. Your fingers twitch slightly.

"You make it race all the time," he confesses. "I just like seeing you try harder."

Even though he says it with his usual confidence, a slight pink color spreads across his cheeks. He says something like that, and now he’s blushing? That’s not fair. You stay in that position, refusing to move, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. For you, the world slows down, all of it fades into the background. 

Your gaze drifts upward, from his chest to his throat, lingering for a second before finally settling on his lips. They’re slightly parted, you miss the feeling of them. How they move in sync with yours. The longing to feel his naked skin on yours, his hands being a delicate weapon with which he tortures you until you fall between sighs and moans. It ignites the deepest desire of your heart. You don’t know if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning in ever so slightly, but your heart is pounding loud enough that he must hear it.

"Kitten" he whispers. A question. A challenge. An Invitation.

Then a sudden chill cuts through the warm night, the hairs on your arms rising as the atmosphere shifts. You tense, instincts kicking in, fingers moving quickly toward your weapon. The shadows near the water seem to distort, the faint outline of something lurking just beyond normal sight.

“There” you murmur. Your watch confirms your gut feeling: metaflux energy detected.

Sylus follows your gaze, a slow grin spreading across his lips as excitement flickers in his eyes. He rolls his shoulders, readying himself.

“Time to break a Heartbreaker.”

You react first, drawing your weapon in a fluid motion, instincts honed from countless battles. “Sylus, left flank!” You call out, already moving, running after the Heartbreaker. Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He dashes to the side, his speed a blur as he circles around to cut off any escape. 

“I see it” he growls. 

—

At the end of the day, you spent the complete day hunting Heartbreaker, to just let him escape at the last moment. Well, you managed to recover the love letter they stole from the post office. You were exhausted, your muscles ached from the chase, the weight of exhaustion settling deep. This isn't how you wanted to spend a day with Sylus. You wanted to finish what you had started in the kitchen, to lose yourself in the heat of his lips, his hands, the way he makes your world tilt whenever he pulls you close. The initial mission of creating chocolate failed.

The cool night air brushes against your skin as you walk back where Sylus left his bike that same afternoon. Luckily you didn't have to go to HQ to make the report and you can send everything another day. Is already midnight. 

“Are you up for a joy ride?” Sylus hands you over your helmet. You can’t deny the way your heart beats at the sight of him. Leaning against his bike, smirking like he hadn’t just spent the whole day hunting down an annoyingly elusive Wanderer.

You’re brushing some remaining dust from your sleeve. “Where do you wanna take me?”

Sylus tilts his head that familiar glint of mischief returns to his gaze. “Guess” You sigh, finally slipping the helmet on. 

“Fine. But if this is another mission, I swear—” Right now, you just wanted to be with him, without missions, without distractions, without anything getting in the way. 

"Relax, kitten. No more running around tonight." He swings a leg over the bike, patting the seat behind him. “Just you and me.” You bite your lip, the familiar rush of warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe today hadn’t gone as planned, but with Sylus, it never really mattered. As long as he was beside you, it was enough.

You climb onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He hums in approval, his hand covering yours for just a second before gripping the handlebar.

“Hold on tight.” As the engine roars to life and the city lights blur around you, you press yourself closer against him, letting the night swallow the rest of the world. Sylus increases speed, making you scream in surprise. Instead of telling him to behave in the city, you laugh and hold on tighter to his body. The speed, the wind and the heat he emits make you forget your disappointment of not having caught Heartbreaker.

{At Twilight BGM} 

After a while, Sylus parks the bike smoothly in front of your place, the engine’s low hum fading into the quiet of the night. But he doesn’t move. You frown slightly, shifting against him, your arms still loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Why are we here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I thought you would take me to your base”

He finally exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head back just enough for his voice to carry over the roar of your heartbeat. “Do you miss the N109 Zone?” 

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts a hand, dragging his fingers over the back of your hand, a slow movement that sends a shiver up your spine. His touch is always so warm against your skin.

“Then… Why?” Sylus finally turns slightly, his glowing red eyes catching yours through the visor of your helmet. 

“Because you live here…” he murmurs a bit amused “And because I figured you’d want to finish what you started.”

You blink. “Finish what—?”

Then it clicks. The chocolate. Your eyes widen slightly, your mind flashing back to your kitchen, to the mess you left behind, to the small box of chocolates you had managed to salvage amidst the chaos. You had nearly forgotten. Nearly.

Sylus watches as realization dawns on you, his smirk deepening. “You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily, did you?”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, you have the worst priorities.”

Sylus finally turns off the bike and swings a leg over, his movements smooth as ever. He faces you, leaning in just slightly. “Come on, kitten. You worked so hard on them.” His voice dips lower, teasing. “And besides…” His fingers ghost under your chin, tilting your face up ever so slightly. “You still owe me for all those interruptions.”

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck.

“Okay, okay.” You step off the bike, brushing past him with a smirk of your own. “But if they taste bad, you have to pretend you like it.”

Sylus chuckles. “Sweetie, if it’s made by you…” He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll devour every last bite.” Your face starts to burn, is he still talking about the chocolate? 

You push the door open, stepping inside with Sylus close behind you. You get rid of your weapons at the entrance, placing your belt in its usual place, then you take off your shoes. The familiar scent of chocolate is still faintly in the air, mixed with the comforting warmth of your home. Your eyes immediately move to the kitchen counter, where the bowl of half-made chocolate still sits, abandoned in the rush of the mission.

“So much for finishing what I started” you murmur, rubbing your temple. Sylus hums behind you, moving into the kitchen with easy, unhurried steps.

“Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”

You give him a dry look. “Oh? And what exactly do you suggest?”

He smirks. “We finish them now.”

Your brows lift. “It’s late.”

Sylus shrugs. “And? Isn't it Valentine's Day already?” He points to the clock in the living room. True, it's past one in the morning. You hesitate, glancing at bowl. It’s cooled but still workable. The strawberries you left soaking in cold water remain untouched. You sigh, rolling up your sleeves.

“Well, would you like to help me then?”

His smirk widens. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You smile, pointing to the strawberries. “Dry them off and bring them here.” Sylus makes a show of complying, grabbing a towel and drying each berry gently off. You already know he’s skilled in the kitchen, especially with those delicious cupcakes he made before. It’s fun having him here, helping out. It feels real, everything, you’re feeling, your connection, your relationship.

You pick up a strawberry and dip it carefully into the warm chocolate you have already heated up, twisting it slightly before placing it on parchment paper. Sylus follows your movements, but when he dips his strawberry, he makes a mess; chocolate coating nearly his whole fingers.

You snort. “Wow. Truly an expert.”

Before you can react, he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking the excess chocolate off slowly. The way his tongue drags over his skin, the way his eyes hold yours the entire time. He did it on purpose. You look away. Heat rushes to your face. You glance down at your own fingers, chocolate smeared across your skin from your earlier work. Before you can wipe it away, Sylus catches your wrist, holding it up between you. His gaze darkens slightly, that playful smirk softening. 

“Let me….”

He didn’t give you the time to protest before his lips brush against your fingertips, his tongue flicking out to catch the chocolate. Your breath hitches, a rush of heat shoots through your body. He’s not in a hurry. He takes his time, licking the chocolate off each finger with a sinful kind of precision. 

“Sylus—” Your voice catches. 

His eyes meet yours. He likes to make you blush, to make you lose your composure. He loves every single one of those expressions you make and he never gets tired of seeing you that way. “Hmm?”

You swallow, pulse hammering in your throat. “…Nothing.” His lips curl at the edges. Satisfied. 

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day doesn’t seem so ruined after all. Without a word, he moves, stepping closer until you're pressed against the cool edge of the counter. He lifts you easily, your feet leaving the floor as he sets you down, your body flush against his.

“Where were we before?” You open your mouth to respond, but he silences you with a smirk, his fingers brushing against the strap of your hunter watch. You freeze. With a swift motion, he rips it off your wrist, tossing it into a nearby drawer without a second thought.

“Don't need this right now” he mutters, eyes back on you as if the watch had never mattered in the first place.

Your heart races. “Wait—”

But the words die in your throat as his lips descend to the curve of your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there. The heat of his touch sends a shiver through you, and your hands instinctively grip the edge of the counter, as if it can steady you against the flood of desire rushing through your veins. His thumb traces the line of your jaw slowly, savoring the moment. You swallow, the taste of his proximity is intoxicating. Sylus pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickers to your lips. 

“What else can we cover with chocolate, kitten?”

You watch down on the bowl, if he is having fun then so do you. You dip your finger once more in the mixture and cup his face with your other hand, securing his position. Sylus just smiles. With the chocolate slightly dripping down, you painted a heart on his face. You always wanted to do this, but you haven't had the opportunity until now. You lean in, your lips brushing over his skin. Then with open mouth kisses you eat up the chocolate. Licking bit by bit the sweetness. Sylus breath hitch. His hands press on your thigh, restrained, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze.

“Take your shirt off” you say softly.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Bossy.” But he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with a painfully slowness, as if daring you to lose patience. The fabric parts, revealing the hard lines of his chest. 

You dip your fingers into the chocolate again, your touch featherlight as you trace a path down the center of his chest, stopping just above his heart. Sylus exhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. A teasing smile playing on your lips. 

"Are you trying to make art?" His voice is a low rumble. You grin, dipping your finger back into the bowl. 

"Maybe. Stay still."

He growls softly, like a domesticated wild cat, when you drag the chocolate-covered fingertip over his collarbone, tracing down his ribs in lazy patterns. In the middle of this action, you get a better idea, and you start writing on his chest. A little crooked, but clearly. Something that always comes to your mind every time you see him. Every time he kisses you, every time you melt into a long hug, when you sleep next to him or he just says your name. Then, suddenly, he catches your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. His eyes soften as he reads the words scrawled across his chest. His smile is small, but undeniably warm.

"Kitten..." he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss onto your lips. "That's something I should be saying.”

“Did you think our competition was over?”

His hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. “Is this how…” He presses another kiss onto your lips, his voice low as he whispers against you, “...you’re going to teach me romanticism?” He moves his lips to your cheek, planting a soft kiss there as well. “I’m more than happy to be your student.” 

You try to pinch him, but Sylus is quicker, capturing your other hand as well. "Oh, now you want to punish me…"

You smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Then be a good boy." For a moment he considers not doing what you say, but that "good boy" has made him very horny.

Sylus leans in, his body pressing between your legs. You sink your free hand into his tousled grey hair, pulling him toward you as your lips brush together. The way his breath mingles with yours is both comforting and intoxicating. The trust and complicity that you share with him is unique. The longer you're in this intimate position, the faster your pulse quickens, and you swear it's synchronizing with the beat of your lover. 

Sylus moves with an urgency that surprises you for a moment, his lips finding yours again, more demanding this time. His lips trail down your jaw, his touch becoming more insistent, more heated. You tilt your head, gasping softly as you feel the desire in his touch.

"Tell me," he whispers between kisses, "What do you want, kitten?" His hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing the curve of your jaw as his gaze holds yours. You breathe out, every inch of you aching with the pull between you two. 

“You know what I want.” you whisper back. 

With a quiet, almost reverent motion, he lifts you effortlessly from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to the bed, never breaking eye contact.  

It isn’t long before every single piece of clothing you were wearing is scattered across the room, discarded like thoughts of hesitation that no longer matter. His hands move with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes, tracing slow, reverent paths over your skin. He holds you as if you are something precious, something irreplaceable, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

His lips follow the path his hands have mapped, pressing slow. His fingers skimming along the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the rise of your ribs. 

"You’re beautiful" he murmurs, almost as if the words slip out without his permission. He leans back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching, drinking you in as if this moment might slip through his fingers if he blinks.

You reach up, fingers threading through his silver-grey hair, tugging lightly. “You always say that” you whisper, smiling softly.

“Because it’s always true” he counters, brushing his lips over your temple. You close your eyes at the tenderness of his words, the way they sink into your chest, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. A quiet sigh escapes you as you nuzzle into him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You have never felt safer, never felt more cherished than in this moment, wrapped in the arms of the one who knows you better than anyone else.

In the most intimate moments, in the intensity of your sighs, you know that Sylus, despite not expressing it in words, shows you his most romantic side through his actions. And tonight, he expresses it to you with the intensity of his gaze and the softness of his movements. 

Actions speaks louder than words.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

One Call Away

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Synopsis: based on 4x19, only the ghouls kidnap you instead of Sam

I’m only one call away

I’ll be there to save the day

“Whatever’s hunting Adam, I’m gonna find it.”

“You already looked everywhere, Dean,” Sam argued.

“Well then I’ll look again,” Dean snapped before turning to leave.

“Wait.” Sam sighed. “Wait, I’ll…I’m gonna come with you.”

Dean’s eyes flashed from Sam to you. Sam seemed to read his mind.

“She can stay here with Adam. It’s safer, and she knows enough to show him how to secure the house.”

“Fine.”

…

You and Adam nailed down and salted every conceivable entrance into the house. You were just about to call your brothers when you heard a woman’s voice yelling from downstairs.

“Adam!”

“Mom?”

“Adam no—“ you tried to stop Adam, but he was already starting down the stairs after his mother’s voice. “Adam it’s not her!”

You reached the bottom of the stairs in time to see Adam embrace what looked like his mother, but had to be a monster.

“Adam that can’t be her!” You insisted, raising your gun. “There was too much blood, it can’t—“

Adam wrestled the gun out of your hands without hesitation, swinging it between you and his mother.

“It’s not human!” You cried.

A slow smirk appeared across “Adam’s” face.

“I know.”

The butt of the gun was the last thing you saw as the monster swung it at your head.

…

“Dean?” Your first instinct when you awoke to a pounding headache was to call out to your big brother. But you got no answer.

Superman got nothing on me

I’m only one call away

Call me, baby, if you need a friend

You tried to sit up, but straps across your ribs held you down tightly to an old wooden table that scratched against your back. You groaned as you tried to move your arms and legs with the same results; your legs were held by straps, and your wrists were stretched out to either end of the table and tied down with coarse rope.

An eerie humming invaded your senses as you slowly let your eyes open. The humming stopped as you moved around more.

“You’re a ghoul,” you mumbled. “That’s why the tests didn’t work.”

“Would’ve been a lot better for you if you’d figured it out earlier.” The woman who looked like Adam’s mother turned around to face you, wielding a large kitchen knife. “Or maybe it wouldn’t have. We’re good at catching our prey. Not that you were hard to catch.”

“My brothers—“ you cut yourself off in a cry of pain as the woman sliced into your forearm with a knife. You tried to ignore her as she licked at the wound, instead choosing to continue your threat. “My brothers are gonna kill you.”

“They won’t get here in time to save you, sweetie,” she taunted, licking her lips.

“Oh it’s gonna be fun killing you after what your daddy did to mine.” The ghoul that looked like Adam was suddenly at your other side, grinning at you as he lifted up one of your knives before slicing it across your wrist.

You’d really wanted to be stoic like your big brothers, but you couldn’t hold back the cry of pain while Adam put his knife down and placed a bucket under your wrist to catch the dropping blood.

“Oh she’s gonna be a whiny one,” the woman chuckled.

“A screamer, just like Adam,” the boy added. He leaned close to your ear to whisper, “He really was your brother, by the way.”

“My brothers will—“

“Ah yes, your brothers. The three of you are so inseparable, it was such a pain to get you alone.”

“Worth it though,” Ghoul Adam added, sticking the tip of his knife into your side and twisting it—just enough of a wound for him to dip his finger in. You cried out, trying to squirm away from him, but the straps held you tight.

“By the way, your brothers won’t be interrupting us,” the woman played with the tip of her knife while she spoke. “So we’re gonna feed on you nice and slow, like we did with Adam. We wanted to kill your daddy, but he was already dead. So you and your brothers will have to do instead.” She reached down, slicing another cut into your wrist—this one much deeper.

You couldn’t help it—you screamed, your arms thrashing in a fruitless attempt to escape the ropes and the knives.

“Hey, lie down and relax,” Ghoul Adam chided you. “We don’t want you bleeding out too fast.”

Reaching out to you, so take a chance

No matter where you go, know you’re not alone

“Hey!” Dean’s voice rang out through the room as he stormed in, gun raised.

“They—they’re ghouls!” You gasped, peering at your big brother through a foggy gaze.

“Headshot.” Sam’s voice came a second after the sound of a gunshot ripped through the air. The woman ghoul dropped to the ground, her head having been blown off by the close shot.

Dean was by your side in a second, but before he could untie you Ghoul Adam tackled him into the next room.

You whimpered as your hand twitched, spilling more of your blood into the bucket under you.

“De…Dean!” You cried out as he landed a blow to Adam’s head.

I’m only one call away

Dean turned to you, leaving Ghoul Adam open for Sam to take a headshot.

I’ll be there to save the day

“Hey kiddo.” Dean rushed to your side, making quick work of untying your wrists and the other straps, completely ignoring Sam shooting off the head of your half-brother’s look-alike in the next room.

Superman got nothing on me

“Up you go,” Dean coaxed, supporting your back as he pulled you into a sitting position.

Your head felt like it was completely drained of blood as you swayed, spots dancing across your vision.

“Whoa, hey—“ Sam appeared on your other side, stabilizing you while Dean grabbed two rags and pressed them against your cuts.

A strangled cry escaped you as you instinctively tried to pull away from Dean, but he held on tight.

“It’s ok, hold it there,” Dean ordered. “We gotta stop the bleeding.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d find me,” you whimpered. “They were gonna eat me—“

I’m only one call away

“Shh, hey it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “We’re right here.”

“I’m never gonna let anything happen to you,” Dean promised. “Now c’mon, we should go.” He pulled you off the table, but the second your feet hit the ground the spots returned and your knees gave out. Dean caught you before you could hit the floor, and Sam reached out and grabbed hold of your wrists to keep the rags tight.

“Dean—“ Sam cringed as his hands were immediately soaked with red. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“She’s ok.” Dean glared at Sam, before turning a softer gaze to you when your breath started to labor. “You’re ok, I promise.”

Dean carried you out to the Impala, where Sam sat with you in the back, holding tightly onto the rags wrapped around your wrists.

“The bleeding will stop,” he kept repeating. “And you’re gonna be just fine.”

Dean went back into the house to take care of the ghouls’ bodies while Sam stayed with you.

“It’s done,” Dean said when he returned. “How’s—“ he turned to the back seat, and Sam cut him off.

“Her heart rate is skyrocketing. De—” Sam almost never called his big brother De. And he almost never looked this scared. “She’s losing too much blood. She can’t be losing this much blood! She’s so little—“

“Calm down!” Dean snapped. Sam used to talk about you like that—how little and fragile you were—when you were just a baby, and he was scared you wouldn’t make it in such a dangerous world. Dean reached over the seat and grabbed your chin in his hand. “Sweetheart, talk to me,” he begged.

“What?” You blinked. Your whole body seemed to heave with the effort it took to breathe. “De, what…Sam what’s happening?”

“She’s delirious, I’m gonna need to stitch up these wounds to stop the bleeding.” Dean got out of the front seat and came to your door, propping it open and grabbing onto your hands. “Sam, you gotta keep her still, I don’t think she’s gonna understand what’s happening.”

Sam shifted, wrapping one arm around you while grabbing your forearm with his free hand, keeping you in place while Dean grabbed a needle and sterilized it.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam whispered to you while Dean got started on the stitches. You fought to free yourself and get away from the needle, but you were no match for Sam’s strength.

You started to cry in Sam’s arms, but you didn’t speak as Dean finished up the stitches quickly and then helped Sam lay you gently in the back, your head in Sam’s lap.

“Are you sure she doesn’t need a hospital?” Sam asked as Dean got in the front seat and started for the motel.

“They’d have too many questions, and we don’t have answers,” Dean huffed. “You’ve got her blood type. We may have to do a jerryrig transfusion when we get back.”

“Sleep now?” You mumbled, your eyes already fluttering shut. Dean glanced back at you. He was worried about you sleeping, but he feared that they wouldn’t have a choice with the way you were dozing already, and he didn’t want to scare you.

“Yeah sweetheart, you can sleep now.”

Your face relaxed into a gentle smile, and you gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

“I love you…” you whispered before dozing off.

“I love you” would be the last words the boys heard from you for a long time.

…

The ghouls didn’t look like Adam and his mom this time; they looked like Sam and Dean.

“We ate your brothers already,” ghoul Dean said. “So there’s nobody to save you.”

“We’re gonna eat you nice and slow,” ghoul Sam added. “One. Bite. At a time.”

Both brothers jumped for you at the same time, ready to rip you apart—

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!”

You bolted upright, your eyes blinking into focus to see Sam leaning over the back of his seat in the Impala to shake you awake. Dean was stealing glances at you from the drivers’ seat.

“You ok, kiddo?” Dean asked.

You offered him a small nod in reply, and he shared a glance with Sam. This was the third time in just over a day that you’d awoken from a nightmare since your time with the ghouls, and you still hadn’t spoken a word. Sam had had to give you some of his blood, but you were either asleep or unconscious for most of it.

Dean had put bandages over your wounds to keep you from scratching at them in your sleep, and he’d hoped that would be the end of it. But something about the ghouls had scared you more than any other monster you’d seen. Dean was kicking himself every minute, think about how he should’ve gotten to you faster, he shouldn’t have let those ghouls cut you open and scare you so badly.

Distracted, Dean didn’t notice the light turning green in front of him until the car behind him honked. The sudden beep had you nearly jumping out of your seat, your eyes wide and panicked.

“Hey, easy,” Sam soothed. “You’re ok.”

“What are you—“ Dean stared at you as you started to climb over the seat, only tearing his gaze away when he had to make a turn. “Kid, what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer—you just finished climbing over the seat and then leaned against Sam, who—despite his surprise—wrapped his arms around you and let you burrow against him.

“You ok, N/N?” He asked. No response.

“Cat got your tongue?” Dean quipped. At your silence, he prodded, “Kiddo, say something.” He waited a beat. Nothing. “Would you say something?” He snapped.

“Hey, easy,” Sam chided. Dean finally turned his eyes from the road to look at you again—you had all but disappeared into Sam’s side, your face tucked against his shoulder like you were trying to hide from the world.

Come along with me and don’t be scared

I just wanna set you free

Dean took the hint and stopped digging. Sam was content to sit in the silence, but he could practically feel Dean worrying beside him.

“We took care of those ghouls, N/N,” Dean assured you. “Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

You stared down at your bandaged wrists and said nothing.

…

Things between the Winchester siblings had changed. Dean spent most of his time either worrying about you, or trying to get you to talk. Sam however, had decided on a different approach after weeks of your silence. Dean was out on a grocery run when Sam brought his approach to you.

“Hey honey,” he greeted, “Can I show you something?”

You nodded, and he came to sit with you on your bed, bringing his laptop with him.

You and me can make it up, anyway

For now, we can stay here for a while

“So, I know you don’t really wanna talk anymore,” he began, and when you started to squirm he quickly continued— “It’s ok, really. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just thought…maybe if you don’t want to talk anymore, we could try this.” Sam set his laptop down in front of you. “It’s a sign language course. I found this website online with all these videos and—and I just thought maybe we could try this out. If you wanted to. I thought maybe it would be easier than talking.”

You seemed to consider it for a long moment before nodding at your brother, and he grinned.

“Cool—uh—let’s get started.”

…

“What are you guys up to?” Dean’s voice caught yours and Sam’s attention as he returned to the motel room. You made a series of gestures at him, to which he stared blankly.

“She said we’re learning sign language,” Sam interpreted with a grin. “You wanna join us?”

“Sign language?” Dean frowned. “What for?”

“Oh—well—“ Sam stumbled over his words, his surety of a few minutes ago gone. “For fun, I guess.”

“Huh.” Dean shook his head. “Ok, well, I’ve got food, so dig in.”

…

You weren’t asleep, but they thought you were; you could tell because they were talking about you.

“Why are you against this sign language thing?”

“Why? Because she doesn’t need it, Sam. I mean, don’t you want her to talk again?”

“Of course I do, Dean. But right now that doesn’t look like an option, and I still want to be able to communicate with her!”

“But if we do this, then maybe she never tries to talk again!”

“But if we don’t, then we run the risk of never connecting with her again, Dean!”

“That’s not true, if we—“

The voices cut off when you sat up in bed, jumping off and running to your brothers. Dean let you jump into his lap and get comfortable. You signed at Sam, and he sighed and said to Dean—

“She said, stop fighting.”

Cause you know, I just wanna see your smile

No matter where you go, know you’re not alone

“If you wanna sign, then I’ll do it with you,” Dean said. “I just…I miss you. I wish you would talk to us. But if this—“ Dean waved his fingers at you, and you grinned. “If this is how you want to talk, I can do that. I just want you to feel safe. You know you’re safe, right?”

When you’re weak I’ll be strong

I’m gonna keep holding on

You signed, and Sam said—

“She says I know.”

“Know?” Dean repeated your sign. “This is know?”

You nodded, and he grinned.

“Ok. So what’s next?”

“The alphabet is the most important thing,” Sam offered.

“Ok then. You know, I taught both of you guys your ABCs? Now it’s time to return the favor.”

You giggled, and just the hint of your voice brightened Dean’s mood.

…

The sign language lessons were going well, but Dean was still worried. Every little unexpected sound still freaked you out, and Dean was avoiding any mention of monsters, especially ghouls. Which wasn’t going to be easy much longer.

“Hey, the cameras didn’t pick up any eye flare, so the look-alike can’t be a shifter. Dean I think it’s a—

“Sam, how about we go get some food,” Dean cut him off, forcing himself not to glance in your direction. Even without looking he could tell you’d tensed up.

“Oh…right, ok.” Sam and Dean started for the door, but a tug on Dean’s arm stopped him.

Darling, if you feel like hope is gone

Just run into my arms

You were at his elbow, your eyes wide and your fingers trembling. Dean hadn’t stopped Sam fast enough—you knew it was a ghoul.

“They’re never gonna come near you,” Dean promised. “Me and Sam will take care of it.”

Your hands tightened on his arm, unwilling to let go.

“Hey,” Sam spoke up. “We’ve got this. We’ll be back in a few hours. Just lock yourself in here, and call if you need us.”

You slowly released Dean’s arm.

Be safe, you signed at them.

“Always,” Dean said, patting your shoulder before turning and leading Sam toward the hunt.

…

I’m only one call away

I’ll be there to save the day

“She called me twelve times.”

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“I was in the middle of killing a ghoul!”

“Well, call her now,” Sam insisted.

Dean clicked on your number as he started up Baby.

“We’ll be back in two minutes,” he said. He got no response, so he hung up and drove faster.

…

Dean was thrown back a half step the second he opened the door by the force of you throwing yourself at him.

“I’m ok, it’s all ok,” he said. “You’re ok, right?”

You nodded, pulling away long enough to grab onto Sam.

“The ghoul is dead,” Sam said. “It’s all over, ok?”

You just kept holding on, so Sam picked you up and carried you over to your bed.

“I know you’re still pretty freaked,” he said. “And that’s ok.”

“Yeah,” Dean cut in. “And if you don’t want to talk, that’s ok too.”

“But we both need you to know that we’ll keep you safe,” Sam said. “You know that, don’t you? No matter what, we’re not gonna let you get hurt again.”

You nodded firmly, and Sam smiled as he tucked you into bed. You slept soundly that night, knowing your brothers were right next to you, always watching over you.

Superman got nothing on me

I’m only one call away

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