#the place is just so small and dark in there

[narcjsistx]

little nsfw scenario, DNI if you're a minor <3 ; words: 0.6k

Imagine, you and RIN ITOSHI in the dark corridor of the cinema of your city, with Sae in the next room who has no idea what is happening between his brother and his best friend, who doesn't know that before he came home his best friend was on his brother's lap, and that Rin was going crazy with your cunt completely pressed against his thighs :(

And that now that the three of you are at the cinema, Rin couldn't help but follow you when you said you were going to the bathroom. if you think you can leave him in this uncomfortable situation for so many hours, you are wrong!

As you are about to reach the bathroom door, you feel a familiar hand blocking you; Rin stands before you, his hand gripping your wrist, a mixture of desire and hesitation in his eyes. His breathing is slightly ragged, his body moving on its own accord as he pushed you against the wall, his face now mere inches away from yours. Taken by surprise, you feel his hands take you from under your thighs, lifting you up and placing you at another height. In an instant, his lips crash against yours, kissing you fiercely, his body pressing you even harder against the wall: his hands grip your thighs tightly, bringing you closer to him as he devours your lips, the kiss filled with a mix of passion and desperation, as if he's finally giving into the desire that's been building up within him all this time. You are surprised by the passion with which he kisses you, and for a few seconds you don't move... but when you realize, you respond to his kiss, running your hands through his hair. Rin lets out a soft groan as you respond to his kiss, his body shivering. He kisses you even harder, his tongue slipping into your mouth, exploring and tasting you with an intensity that surprises even himself

He leans in, his lips hovering just above your neck, his breath hot against your skin "You're driving me crazy..." he whispers, his hand now sliding underneath your shirt, feeling your bare skin against his touch. Rin's hand moves to your breast, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. He feels the way you gasp in response to his touch, a small smirk forming on his lips "You like that, don't you...?" he whispers, his lips moving down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin. His teeth graze against your skin, biting

Rin takes your moans as a response as a cue to continue, his lips and teeth roaming across your neck, leaving love bites and soft kisses as he goes. He continues to kiss and bite, his hand still moving gently on your breast, his actions now becoming more urgent, more hungry "You taste so good..." he murmurs against your skin. You are left speechless, feeling how he can make you dumb with just his touch; Rin can feel the effect his touch has on you, the way you're left at his mercy. It only serves to fuel his desire even further, his touches now becoming even more intimate and possessive. He leans in, his lips now right next to your ear, his voice low and rough "I want you... I need you..." he whispers, his hand now squeezing your boob, as his fingers focus on your needy and red nipple

He holds you, his hands still under your thighs "Wrap your legs around me..." he commands, his voice rough and needy. Rin growls appreciatively as you obey his command, his hips pressing against yours tightly as your legs wrap around his waist. He can feel the way your bodies are connected now, the heat between you only growing more intense. He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb tracing your jawline as he looks at you with desire "You're mine... all mine..."

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

[boypied]

Reed was your professor, and you knew you shouldn't have feelings for him. Truth be told, you only actually signed up to his class because you saw him and thought that he was one of the sexiest men that you'd ever been blessed enough to come across. “Morning, Mr Richards.” You say in a soft yet sultry tone as you gently place an apple on his desk, which is possibly the most cliche thing you've ever done.

“Oh! You're quite early.” Reed chuckles out in a low tone as he turns away from the chalkboard that he is writing on. Reed looks down at his watch to check the time, “You're far more than quite early. Class doesn't start for another hour and a half.” Reed says in a shocked tone that someone would even show up to class that early. “I just wanted to come and see my favourite teacher.” You say in a soft yet seductive tone as you rest your hands against his desk.

Reed's eyes soften slightly as he watches you lean forward against his desk. “Favourite teacher, really?” he says in a confused tone as he leans against his desk, both of your faces now inches from one another. Reed maintains eye contact as his hand grips the apple, and he brings it up to his mouth, slowly biting into the apple that you had brought for him just moments prior. “I've never would've thought someone eating an apple could look so sexy.” You confess.

A small smirk starts to grow on his face as he slowly swallows the piece of apple that he'd just bitten off. Reed pulls the apple away from his mouth and brings it against yours “Take a bite.” he says in a commanding tone. A dark hunger grows behind his eyes as he watches you lean forward and take a big bite out of the apple, the same area that he'd just bitten. “Good boy.” he grunts out as he watches you slowly and seductively eat that apple.

“I need to go collect some things for the class...” Reed begins talking, making sure to look around just in case someone else has just come in. “Why don't we finish this a bit later on, come by my place.” Reed says with a smirk on his face and a dark lustfulness buried behind his eyes as he stares at your lips until Reed's eyes flick back up to your eyes. “Sounds perfect.” You mumble out as you walk away from his desk and over to your seat where you watch him from afar, and he continues to set up his desk and notes for the lesson ahead.

[arkhamsbrat]

you were robbed of summer, i was robbed of you

jason todd x civilian reader

when jason left, your light did too. six years of your life spent attached at jason’s hip crumbled around you with one knock on your door, and a small shoe box of old journals and trinkets was placed in your hands. they told you the funeral was that next week. you barely had time to register that they told you how he really died. asked you to keep it to yourself.

that boy you spent your childhood with, running through dark allies and making the best of your shitty little lives was gone. the boy who read to you, sat in the gamestop and played the trial of mario kart with you til you got kicked out, gone. you didn’t even get to say goodbye. they didn’t even let you see him before they buried him.

at least the bastard pitied you was kind enough to let you visit Mr. Wayne’s graveyard. you left letters, flowers, anything that reminded you of him. there were too many times that Mr. Wayne found you passed out against his tombstone. you’d wake up back in your own home, unsure of how you got there. it didn’t matter.

the next four years were miserable, barely scraping by without a few trips to the hospital from your constant exhaustion. you made it, at least. got a little cat to give you something to motivate you. her name was robin. a little stray you found on your fire escape. jason would’ve loved her.

you could see it when you closed your eyes. jason sitting on your couch, crooked smile wide as robin climbed all over him. how he’d whisper to her when he thought you couldnt hear. you saw him everywhere, doing everything. because that’s where he should be.

heroes came back all the time. the flashes, superboy, impulse, even batman. what did you need to do to bring him back? what did you have to give up? did you need to tear yourself in two all over again just to get your best friend back?

these thoughts played over and over, every single day that passed. it got to the point where you could see little silver hairs sprouting out of your head after april passed. they got thicker in august, when you kneeled by the edge of your toilet and sobbed so hard you got sick. he should be 21 now, piss drunk on your ragged old couch and cackling at how you stumbled around.

you felt pathetic when robin came and nuzzled at your leg, meowing for your attention. you ran your fingers through her fur before pulling her into your arms, feeling her purr. “how dumb do i look right now, jayce?” you muttered to yourself, bitterly. “makin’ you real proud, i bet.”

you didn’t hear the boots hit against your fire escape, nor did you see red hood slink down to peer through your smudged windows. it’d become a habit of his, though he was disappointed you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should’ve been.

jason watched. almost nightly. thats more than what he thought he deserved. nearly threw up in his mask the first time he saw your grey streak, stress induced.

the two of you were strangers now, he reminded himself consistently. the boy you knew was long gone, and he strongly doubted you would ever accept any of his changes. he’d hoped you’d changed for the worst. maybe he’d find something he could move on from. something to hate you for. maybe he could throw away the letters he wrote to you in hopes that one day he could come to you. in hopes he’d be able to come home.

thats what he’d always found in you. he craved it- the simplicity of you. hell, he’d even take you yelling at him for being stupid. for leaving you. he’d find a home in that, as long as it was your voice raising at him. before he came back, he was afraid you’d forgotten. he’d hoped you didn’t, in a fucked up way he hoped you’d hurt the same way he did. that you’d never forgotten him.

he regretted those wishes the minute he saw you crying over a cheap cookie with a candle stabbed through, drunk off your own ass. the date didn’t even cross his mind when he landed, only looking to check in on you. he had to fight back his own tears when it dawned on him. even now, you cared about his birthday?

if he wasn’t so stupid you wouldn’t be alone. if he didn’t care so much, if he didn’t go to-

you looked up before he got to finish any of his thoughts, letting out a shrill scream when you saw the masked vigilante on your fire escape. if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve laughed at how fast you grabbed your cat and raced to your bedroom, nearly tripping against the toys strewn about the floor. he’d wanted to mock you about how you spoiled that cat. jason wanted to be with you again. to be normal with you.

he’d never see you again if he could just tell you that you’re what got him through it all. it’s always been you, always will be. thirty minutes pass while he contemplated if he deserves to be selfish with you before he just said fuck it. he slid your window open and slipped through, searching for your room.

he’d get on you about actually locking the damn window later.

jason couldn’t find it in him to care about hiding that it was him. it was you he was telling. no matter the fear blooming from deep withinin him, he knew you’d see him. trust him. love him, if he let you.

the red hood mask got thrown onto your couch while he scrambled to your door. he knew you could hear his footsteps, probably scared shitless. how was he supposed to start this?

“been a long time…” he spoke, barely able to mask the shake in his voice. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d still think about me, honestly. i hoped you did, but… everyone else seemed to replace me. shoulda known you never would’ve…” jason couldn’t feel how his whole body shook as he kept speaking, barely remembering when he slid down to the floor.

“thought about you every god damn day, y’know? always wanted to tell you that. wondered if you went to school. if you were still damn awful at chemistry… did’jya start workin’ at that little cafe? said y’would once you turned sixteen…” he rambled on, tears spilling down his scarred cheeks. “i know y’don’t know me anymore… y’lost your jason… but i probably lost my you too… y’look miserable. that my fault too?”

jason heard the floorboards creak from the other side of the door. a quiet shuffling, alongside a very upset meow as a cats paw swiped under the door, catching at his jeans. he laughed quietly, setting his hand down so the cat could paw at him instead of the jeans that he just stole off some douchebag that tried to mug a mother thrifted. he felt his whole body tense when you finally spoke. “her name’s robin… thought jason would’ve liked that. none’a this is his fault.”

“i do.” he pressed his head against the door, seconds away from begging you to open it. a cat… you named your scraggly ass cat after him. you sounded exhausted- if he could snap his fingers and take it all from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “jason’s dead… they said he got killed by…” he let out a sharp sigh. “i wanted to come back to you, i swear. it’s a real long story.”

he heard more shuffling behind the door, and then a click. your head peeked through the crack. “…i never make plans on your birthday…i have time?” for the first time in a long time, jason felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “are you gonna remember any of this in the morning, drunkard?”

his grin widens when you shrug, teary eyes boring into his. “then i get to see you for the first time all over again. jackass.”

[heliosunny]

Omg your writings are so scrumptiously delicious 😋 I always come back to read them again And again especially the phainon ones! Agh they are soo good! Also been wondering since you wrote Yan! Phainon× vamp! reader... how about Yan! vamp!phainon×reader..if that's okay... Have a great day/evening/night!

Yandere!Vampire Phainon x Reader

[artist]

The sun dipped low over the village, casting golden light across the cobbled streets. Laughter echoed between stone walls as a group of children ran through the narrow alleys, their feet kicking up dust. You were among them, breathless and grinning, trying to keep up with the boy ahead of you.

“You’re too slow, Y/N!” Phainon teased, turning back with a wide grin. His silver-white hair gleamed under the fading light, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I’m not slow! You’re just unfairly fast!” you huffed, trying to catch him.

Phainon only laughed, effortlessly dodging your outstretched hands. Behind you, the others—Mydei, Anaxa, and a handful of others called out, egging you both on.

“Give Y/N a chance, Phainon!” one of them yelled.

“Yeah, don’t be mean.” Anaxa added, though his voice was laced with amusement.

Phainon slowed just enough for you to reach him, letting you tug on the sleeve of his tunic. “Caught you!” you declared triumphantly.

Instead of pulling away, Phainon tilted his head, smiling. “Guess that means I belong to you now” he said lightly.

“You’re weird.” you muttered, but you didn’t let go of his sleeve.

The warmth of the evening settled over you all as you made your way to the village outskirts. Beyond the fields, a small grove of trees offered a quiet retreat from the watchful eyes of adults. It was your group’s favorite place, a hidden world where you could be anything you wanted.

Mydei flopped onto the grass with a dramatic sigh. “I’m tired. Someone should carry me home.”

“You have legs” Anaxa scoffed, sitting down beside him. “Use them.”

You chuckled and sat next to Phainon, who stretched out lazily. The golden hour made his pale skin glow, and for a moment, he seemed almost otherworldly. You’d always thought he looked a little different, but then again, all of them did. The village women sometimes whispered about it, about their unnaturally striking features, their strange presence—but you never paid much attention. They were your friends. That was all that mattered.

Phainon leaned close, resting his chin on his palm as he watched you. “You’re staring” he teased.

You blinked, startled. “I was not.”

“You were” he insisted, grinning. “Do I look that handsome to you?”

“You’re annoying” you muttered, lightly shoving his shoulder.

He only laughed.

The conversation shifted to plans for tomorrow, with Mydei complaining about chores and Anaxa suggesting another race through the village. You listened, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Phainon’s eyes were still on you.

You didn’t know then that Phainon had already decided.

Years Later

The group was no longer whole.

Time had worn down the bonds of childhood, and the innocence of those golden days had long since faded. Some had drifted apart, others had changed in ways you could barely recognize. The carefree days of running through the village had been replaced with whispers in the dark—secrets you weren’t privy to.

And yet, Phainon remained.

“You’re quiet tonight” he remarked, setting down a goblet as he leaned back in his chair.

You looked up from your seat across from him, the dim candlelight flickering between you. “Just thinking.”

Phainon studied you, his blue eyes sharp despite his ever-present smile. “About what?”

You hesitated. Should you say it? That you had noticed the strange way the others carried themselves, the way they whispered behind closed doors? That some of them had started keeping odd company—company that left them with faint red marks on their throats?

That the people you once knew felt like strangers?

Instead, you sighed. “I don’t know. Things just feel… different.”

Phainon tapped his fingers against the table. “People change” he said simply. “But I haven’t, have I?”

You glanced at him. No—Phainon hadn’t changed. He was still the same bright, teasing boy from your childhood. Always smiling, always close.

“You haven’t” you admitted, but the words felt strange on your tongue.

Phainon tilted his head, his gaze unreadable. Then, he smiled.

Outside, the night stretched on, and somewhere in the darkness, something shifted.

Something you weren’t meant to see.

The place was hidden, tucked away in the shadows of the city’s underbelly. It wasn’t a tavern, nor a brothel, but something worse—a gathering ground for those who lurked in the dark, where morality had long been forgotten.

Phainon moved through the dimly lit corridors like a specter, his presence drawing wary glances. They knew him here. Knew his name, his strength. Even among vampires, he was a force to be feared.

A low murmur caught his ear.

In the far corner, a vampire, one who owed him a great deal, had cornered a trembling girl. Her breath hitched as the man leaned in, fingers curling around her throat.

Phainon barely spared them a glance.

It wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t his concern. The weak suffered, the strong took what they wanted. That was the way of things.

He stepped forward to leave. And then, without warning, the image shifted. For a brief, horrifying second, it wasn’t some nameless girl in that man’s grip. It was you.

His body went rigid.

Would he still walk away? Would he still ignore it?

The thought sent something ugly curling in his chest.

A slow inhale. A measured exhale. He forced his body to relax. It wasn’t you. It would never be you. You weren’t meant for places like this.

Still, the unease lingered.

With a final glance at the struggling girl, Phainon turned and walked away, the thirst in his throat demanding attention. He needed something to quiet his thoughts, someone to satisfy his hunger.

As he stepped deeper into the night, a realization settled within him.

If it had been you, if anyone had dared to touch you, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

The morning sun filtered through the trees as you went about your daily routine. It was rare, almost strange, not to have Phainon lingering nearby, flashing that easy smile of his or teasing you about something trivial.

Maybe he was busy.

It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear at times, though he always returned like nothing had happened. You never asked where he went, and he never told you.

Today, the village was as lively as ever. You made your way through the familiar paths, exchanging greetings with the townsfolk and stopping briefly to chat with Anaxa, who seemed preoccupied with something.

“You seen Phainon?” you asked casually.

Anaxa snorted. “No, and I don’t plan on looking for him either.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Just… sometimes, it’s better not to know where he goes.”

The words sat uneasily with you, but before you could press further, someone called your name from across the street.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of small errands, idle conversations, and the comforting normalcy of routine. Yet, beneath it all, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

By the time evening rolled around, the absence felt heavier.

Phainon always found you before the day ended. Always.

So why wasn’t he here?

The next morning, Phainon appeared as if he had never been gone.

He leaned against the doorway of your home, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his face. “Miss me?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small, relieved breath you let out. “You wish.”

He only chuckled, falling into step beside you as if no time had passed. And just like that, things returned to normal. You didn’t ask where he had been, and he didn’t offer an explanation. That was how it always was.

That evening, your mother handed you a small parcel wrapped in cloth. “Take this to your grandmother, will you? But be careful, don’t linger too long. It’ll be dark soon.”

You reassured her with a smile before setting off. The road was familiar, winding through the outskirts of the village, lined with tall trees that cast long shadows as the sun dipped below the horizon.

By the time you started heading back, the last traces of daylight had faded. The path home felt different at night—quieter, colder. The wind whispered through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

Then, the silence broke.

A rustle.

You stopped, heart thudding in your chest. The trees swayed, their branches casting twisted shadows across the path. It was probably just an animal.

Then you heard it—breathing.

Before you could turn, something slammed into you, knocking you to the ground. A weight pinned you down, cold fingers gripping your shoulders.

“Smells good...” a voice rasped above you.

Your breath caught as you looked up, meeting the hungry, gleaming eyes of a man. No—a vampire. His lips curled, revealing sharp fangs.

“Let go of me!” You struggled, panic surging through your veins.

He chuckled, amused by your resistance. “I haven’t fed in days. Just a little taste—”

Then, in an instant, he was gone- ripped away.

The weight lifted, and before you could process what had happened, a sickening crack echoed through the air. A strangled cry followed, cut short as something heavy hit the ground.

Shaken, you pushed yourself up.

And then you saw Phainon who stood a few feet away, his back turned to you. At his feet, the vampire lay crumpled, twitching weakly. One of his arms bent at an unnatural angle.

“You picked the wrong person” Phainon murmured.

The injured vampire let out a choked whimper. “I— I didn’t know—”

“You didn’t know?” Phainon repeated, tilting his head. “Didn’t know they were mine?”

“Please—”

Phainon sighed. Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward and crushed the man’s throat beneath his heel.

Your heart pounded as you watched him. He turned to you, his usual warmth still present—but now laced with something darker.

“You’re trembling” he said softly, stepping closer.

You couldn’t move.

Then, ever so gently, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face.

“You should be more careful, Y/N.”

His fingers lingered.

“I’d hate to lose you.”

Your vision blurred. Your breath came in shallow gasps, but it wasn’t enough—your chest tightened, the world tilting as cold sweat slicked your skin.

Phainon. The vampire’s broken body. The blood pooling beneath him.

“Ah—” Phainon exhaled, amused yet concerned. “I suppose that was a bit much for you.”

The last thing you saw before the darkness swallowed you whole was the serene, almost affectionate smile on his face.

You stirred, eyes fluttering open. You weren’t outside anymore. Dim candlelight flickered against wooden walls—your room.

“You’re awake” Phainon murmured.

He was sitting at your bedside, one arm draped lazily over the chair, watching you with a quiet intensity.

Your body tensed. The memory rushed back all at once—the attack, the vampire, the way Phainon had crushed his throat like it was nothing.

Your fingers clenched the sheets. “You—”

“I carried you home”

Silence stretched between you.

“I took care of it. No one will ever touch you again.”

“You… killed him.”

Phainon didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed almost puzzled by your reaction. “Of course.”

The boy you had grown up with, the one who had laughed with you, teased you, stayed by your side—had crushed a man’s throat without hesitation.

Phainon leaned closer, reaching out slowly, as if not to startle you. His fingers brushed your wrist, light and careful. “You’re safe with me” he murmured.

Days passed.

Phainon left you alone, giving you space to recover, though he never strayed too far. You could feel his presence even when he wasn’t visible—watching, waiting.

But the fear that had once taken root inside you began to shift.

Curiosity gnawed at your thoughts.

Where did he go at night? What kind of life did he lead beyond the smile he showed you?

And more importantly—how much had he hidden from you?

So, when the sun dipped below the horizon, you made your choice.

You pulled on a cloak, wrapping it tightly around yourself before slipping into the night.

Phainon was easy to track. He moved with a confidence that came from knowing no one could touch him, his form barely more than a whisper in the darkness.

You followed carefully, staying just out of sight.

The path led away from the village, past old roads and tangled trees, into the underbelly of a world you had never seen before.

And then—you found it. The Hidden Den.

The place was alive with a dark, pulsing energy. Torches flickered against stone walls, casting long shadows over the twisted gathering.

Vampires lounged on crimson-draped couches, fangs sinking into willing throats as girls draped themselves over their laps. Others inhaled thick, perfumed smoke from ornate pipes, their pupils blown wide with pleasure.

On one side, blood was being poured into goblets like fine wine, passed between hands in hushed trades. In another corner, a vampire licked fresh crimson from his fingers while a dazed-looking woman trembled beside him, her pulse sluggish.

This was what he was part of?

A sick fascination mingled with your horror. You wanted to turn away—but you couldn’t.

A presence loomed behind you.

Before you could react, a hand gripped your shoulder and yanked you back into the shadows. Your back hit a cold wall. A figure loomed over you, silver hair catching the dim light.

Phainon.

But this wasn’t the version of him you knew.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to wander where you don’t belong?”

You looked up at Phainon, at the way the dim torchlight cast shadows over his face—sharpening his features, making him seem even more untouchable. His grip on your shoulder was firm, grounding.

But you weren’t afraid.

You were angry.

"Is this what you're into?" you demanded, voice sharp, cutting through the low hum of sinful indulgence around you. "Is this the kind of place you belong to?"

Phainon's expression didn’t waver, but his fingers twitched slightly against your shoulder.

You continued, ignoring the cold air brushing against your skin. "I don’t want you here. You’re better than this."

His lips parted slightly in surprise. Then, amusement flickered in his gaze. "Better than this?" he echoed. "And what makes you think that?"

"Because I know you" you said without hesitation.

A moment of silence stretched between you, taut with unspoken things. Then Phainon exhaled softly, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe you. His grip finally loosened, but he didn’t step away. Instead, his eyes drifted downward—toward your exposed wrist, where your pulse beat strong beneath your skin.

"You followed me all this way" he murmured. "Was it just to scold me?"

You hesitated for only a second before speaking.

"If you’re that thirsty, drink from me instead."

Phainon blinked.

And then he laughed.

"You’re unbelievable." he said, voice hushed.

But he didn’t refuse.

Phainon leaned in slowly, watching you carefully, as if waiting for hesitation. But you didn’t flinch. His fingers brushed against your wrist, tilting it slightly. His lips ghosted over your skin.

And then—

A sharp sting, followed by warmth.

Your breath caught as his fangs pierced your skin, precise and careful. It wasn’t painful, not really. A strange, tingling sensation spread through you, your body growing light, unsteady.

Phainon made a quiet sound against your skin, like a sigh of relief, like he had been waiting for this. His grip was gentle, his touch reverent. And just as quickly as it started, it was over.

He pulled back, licking the last drops of crimson from his lips. "You taste too good for your own good" he murmured, almost to himself.

You barely heard him.

Because suddenly, the heavy perfume in the air—the scent of blood, of incense, of whatever drugged haze lingered in this place crashed down on you all at once.

Your knees buckled.

Phainon's arms were around you before you could hit the ground.

"Ah," he breathed, catching you easily. "Didn’t think that one through, did you?"

Your body felt weightless as he lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

By the time you woke, you were home.

The scent of that place was gone, replaced by the familiar warmth of your own room. Your body felt drained, sluggish, but safe.

And sitting beside you, as if he had never left, was Phainon.

"You’re reckless," he murmured, breaking the silence. "But I like that about you."

His fingers brushed against your wrist again, where his mark remained.

"You should rest," he said softly. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

And for some reason, despite everything—you believed him.

You barely remembered falling asleep.

After Phainon carried you home from that wretched place, exhaustion claimed you faster than you could think. Your body was too weak, too drained from everything that happened.

But when you woke up—something was wrong.

A hand clamped over your mouth before you could make a sound.

Your eyes shot open, heart slamming against your ribs. The room was dark, but you could make out a figure looming over you—a vampire, his breath heavy with the scent of old blood.

"You shouldn’t have been there, little thing." the man sneered.

The one who owed Phainon saw what you both did. So he thought he could take advantage of the situation.

Panic surged through you. You struggled, but his grip tightened.

"You cost me" he hissed, voice low and venomous. "But don’t worry. You’ll be useful in another way."

He yanked you up from your bed, arms locking around you like iron.

The moment Phainon stepped into your house, he knew something was wrong. The air reeked of an unfamiliar scent—bitter, old blood mixed with the distinct stench of someone who didn’t belong.

Your room was a mess. The blankets were thrown aside, your belongings knocked over, and worst of all—

You were gone.

Phainon’s entire expression darkened.

The scent was fresh. They couldn’t have gone far.

His fingers twitched, sharp nails lengthening slightly as he inhaled deeply, locking onto the trail like a predator.

He found you in an abandoned alley, pressed against the cold stone as the vampire loomed over you, fangs bared.

"Don’t struggle" the man sneered. "I just need a little taste—"

Crack.

The vampire was on the ground before he could register what happened, Phainon’s boot pressing down against his throat.

The man choked, clawing at Phainon’s leg, but the weight didn’t budge.

"You made a mistake" Phainon murmured, voice eerily calm.

His foot pressed down harder. The vampire’s struggles weakened.

"Phainon" you rasped, voice hoarse, barely able to move.

That was the only thing that stopped him.

Phainon’s gaze flicked toward you. His eyes softened—just a fraction.

With one last sharp glare at the trembling man beneath him, Phainon finally stepped back.

The vampire gasped, wheezing as he scrambled away.

Phainon didn’t bother watching him flee.

He was already kneeling beside you, fingers brushing over your face, checking for injuries.

"Tch." His voice was light, but you could hear the underlying tension. "I leave you alone for one moment, and this is what happens?"

"Not my fault."

A chuckle. "I guess not."

And before you could protest, he scooped you up again, cradling you against his chest.

Phainon’s home was nothing like yours.

The moment he brought you inside, he didn’t let you out of his sight. You were still rattled, too exhausted to argue as he led you to a bath, forcing you to sit and soak in the warm water while he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

"You don’t have to watch me" you muttered, sinking into the heat.

"I do" he replied smoothly.

You scowled but didn’t push further.

After you finished, you dressed in the spare clothes he handed you, soft and unfamiliar, but comfortable.

But even then, something was off.

Phainon’s expression was unreadable as he stood in front of you, arms still crossed, eyes sharp.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

He exhaled, then leaned in slightly, inhaling.

Your entire body tensed.

"That scent" he murmured.

It took you a second to realize what he meant.

Even after bathing, the vampire’s scent still clung to you.

Phainon didn’t like that.

You barely had time to react before Phainon closed the distance between you.

One hand reached for your wrist, the other sliding up to your jaw, tilting your face toward him.

"Phainon—?"

"You smell like him," he said, almost absentmindedly. "I hate it."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in further, his nose brushing lightly against the side of your neck.

A slow inhale.

"Phainon—!"

His hands slid down, trailing over your shoulders, gripping your arms just enough to keep you still. He wasn’t rough—no, his touch was slow, intentional.

"You don’t want to reek of someone else, do you?" he murmured against your skin. "Let me fix it."

His lips brushed over the curve of your throat, not quite kissing, not quite biting—just enough to make your pulse spike.

"Stop squirming" he chuckled when you shifted, his voice warm, teasing. "You wanted me to drink from you before. Did you change your mind?"

"That’s not—this is different—!"

Phainon hummed, a soft, knowing sound. "Not really."

His arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you flush against him, his warmth seeping into your skin.

This wasn’t about feeding.

This was about marking.

"Better" Phainon murmured, finally leaning back to meet your gaze. His blue eyes gleamed, satisfied.

"You smell like me now."

[arandomao3user]

"Jason was just a replacement for Dick." I have heard people say, "Bruce never loved him."

And, to an extent, I agree Jason was just a replacement for ROBIN, but not as a son, no, because Dick was Bruce's son and pride alright, he became his pride, the pride of Batman. But Jason did something Dick often failed to do, not from lack of TRYING but, because, it only lasted a week, maybe two before Bruce went back to that deep, dark hole he carved out for himself.

(Tim Drake: Pride Special)

Something I feel people can't possibly grasp, because maybe they can't relate or don't fully understand the significance or impact? The fact that it was the anniversary of the Wayne's deaths, Bruce's parents deaths that have haunted him for the majority of his life. He was in the cowl, he was BATMAN in the moment and it was his parents deaths, and in the same place he stayed, kneeling between the cooling corpses of his parents, knees drenched in their blood, he stayed there for possibly an hour or more. And yet, as Batman, in the cowl in the same place on the same night-- he laughed.

He laughed. Some punk, little bony street brat with a tire iron stole his tires, hit him with said tire iron, and called Batman a "big boob." and I believe Bruce was fond of Jason the moment he saw him.

Bruce and Dick were the dynamic dup, but there was also some small sense of obligation for Bruce to take Dick in. Bruce feared what Dick would've become, didn't want him to turn out like Bruce did. But with Jason? Oh, with Jason.

"Jason was the first thing Bruce allowed himself to want since his parents deaths." Is what my friend said when I was rambling to them about this, and it hit me how true it actually was.

Dick was Bruce's son, and he loved him, yet, but with Jason? BRUCE chose Jason, and he was the first Robin that Batman chose. Dick made himself Robin, Dick gave Robin to Tim and Damian, and I believe even with Stephanie it wasn't entire because Bruce WANTED her to be Robin.

Bruce, after seeing how Ma Gun's school wasn't what he thought it was, he made Jason Robin, took him home the same night (kidnapping is valid if you're Batman and he's up for grabs anyways--) and made him his SON.

He replaced Robin, but Jason was never a replacement as a son.

(Tim was the replacement as a son but we won't get into that today since that is more of my fanon over analysis of the characters--

so, yeah--)

Bruce adopted Jason about... Two weeks, I wanna say(?) after meeting him, taking him home, and I don't wanna say it was some sort of automatic attachment, but I believe Bruce saw the chance to make a proper family, and that's what he WANTED for Jason.

That's what he GAVE Jason.

I'm not digging for anymore panels, this isn't easy work for a post--

But my point stands, and even after Jason dies, Bruce wouldn't hesitate to come save him. Not out of guilt anymore, but because Jason has and always will be his son, not his favourite, because that'd make people mad if I say that (I read comics now, and even after, I still say that Jason is the favorite, but I won't make it a whole thing in this post--)

(Batman: Urban Legends #4)

Bruce, evidently, even with the violence and abuse he's shown Jason after Jason came back from the dead, has proven he'd come for him, that he won't ever give up on him.

Jason is rarely ever called his son in the comics anymore, he's rarely acknowledged to be Batman's son, and some may say "Well, that's because Jason doesn't see him as a Father." And I BEG you look at these comic panels and think that still. The words aren't said, maybe because it's to painful for Bruce to acknowledge he lost another family member, and for Jason? Hell, Bruce keeps punching him, we've all seen the panels, we've seen Dick's crash out.

Their relationship isn't perfect, Bruce has made so many mistakes, called Jason a failure, and Jason has certainly reciprocated those feelings a few times. Jason openly admits they were no dynamic duo, and says there wasn't trust between them-- something I disagree with. Entirely.

(Aaaand there's my image limit. Guess I won't show y'all the panel of Bruce holding Jason's corpse, thinking, "Did he hate me?" Because that was Bruce's thoughts after losing Jason. Guilt. And fear that Jason's final feelings for him were HATE.)

Can we also just... THIS PANEL!? HOW can anyone say "Well, Jason was just Dick's replacement--" then why was the worst fear the BATMAN can imagine, can conjure in his mind, losing Jason? Losing Jason was Bruce's greatest fear, something so terrifying to Bruce, to Batman.

Dick, Tim, Damian... They're all good Robin's (no Tim hate here, that's my boy) but Jason was a good son. In the movie, and comic, (Under The Red Hood) everyone agrees that Jason knew he was loved, he knew he was loved even as he grew older and began getting more reckless and violent-- things he wasn't as Robin, not for the majority of his run-- because he was a teenager who was beginning to go through stupid staged in his life where he could make mistakes. Unfortunately, he had all the supplies to make those mistakes fatal, and they proved to be...

But nobody replaced Dick as a son, something he was to Bruce, but things were to rocky, that first child syndrome hits hard and Bruce was young and so, so stupid with Dick... A good Father, but he wanted to be better with Jason, and maybe this is all to fanon territory, but I don't wanna hear a lick of "Bruce never loved Jason." Because Dick was Bruce's pride, but Jason was every last lick of joy in Bruce's body.

Jason was worth breaking his rules in Batman's eyes, briefly, but at a point he was worth it.

Jason, to Bruce, was worth dying for if he couldn't live in a world with him, Jason had Bruce crying for an hour once, after he was taken away from him during his Robin years.

Bruce loved Jason, because that was his son. Unfortunately, things got messed up, their relationship is messy now, yes, but that is still Bruce's son, and deep down, I think he knows that. It's something easier to admit than other times, and I forever hate the title of "Batman's Greatest Failure" because the only failure was not reaching Jason on time, Jason himself was no failure.

ANYWAYS, THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK :D

---

[pirha]

(ignoring the last few paragraphs here)

The Watchtower is crowded today, but not because of an emergency. Or at least not an immediate danger or worldwide type of emergency. No, the Watchtower is crowded because of the problem that is Captain Marvel's recent... habits.

Now, you should understand that the Captain is very hospitable and caring of everyone, and is often viewed as a father figure to heroes of all ages, due to his own exceptional age.

But that doesn't change, rather it emphasizes their worrying of Captain Marvel and his taking up drinking.

The many heroes gathered have already discussed and debated over how they will confront the man, how to rehabilitate him while ensuring the public of his safety. Of course, even as they wait for him to arrive, there are still small arguments and whispers of how to do this correctly .

In a burst of suddenness, everything stops, as if Kronos himself had stopped time. Loud in such a quiet room, a ding echoes.

Wonder Woman straightens, and Green Arrow rises from his seat.

The person of the day walks in from the zeta tube, unaware of the tension sitting upon each person's shoulders.

No one wants to do this. Wants this to have even been a problem in the first place. But it is, so they prepare themselves.

The Captain looks at them with confusion as he takes another sip from the flask. It's a dark, military green and has a small but bright yellow sunflower with a smiley face on the bottom right corner. It's a little beaten up, with scratches in the paint and a dent at the top, right below the black cap.

"Hey everyone," he says, smiling with a furrowed brow, an unsure waver in his tone. "Is everything okay?"

He looks concerned. Normal, even. If not for the drink in his hand, nobody would have spared a thought as to his state.

Batman grunts, clearing his throat. Everywhere looks at him.

"Captain Marvel." The Captain's navy blue eyes seemed to pierce through the Batman, with no ill will. "Group at the meeting room in 5."

The most intimidating man in the room chickens out lamely. He silently stalks off, back facing all the wide-eyed heroes.

"Uh, I," Green Lantern stutters. His straight black hair flops back and forth with his head before he excuses himself to the bathroom. The others take his lead and quickly exit the room, leaving only Wonder Woman, the redheaded Green Lantern, and Captain Marvel.

The large man looks around. "What's wrong with them? Is everything alright?" he checks.

Wonder Woman shakes her head, "they are simply worried, brother. It shall be discussed over our impromptu conference."

He nods, still looking particularly confused. None of them have ever acted like this before, not even the most cowardly of the bunch.

"No need to be frightened, we're just wanting to help, you know?" Green Lanterns jumps in.

"With what?" Captain Marvel takes another sip from his flask. Then, his eyes squint and he turns around.

Green Lantern hesitates. It's a perfect segue into the main issue, and the man might feel more comfortable talking with a smaller group. While he's not especially close to Cap, he's worked with people who have problems like these and more. And Wonder Woman is here to smooth out anything he may get wrong...

He answers.

"They're just a bit worried with how much you've been drinking," he looks Captain Marvel in the eyes as he says this. He looks at him. Looks as he refills his flask. With water. He's filling the flask with water. With plain old tap water.

The Captain looks back at his after it's filled and takes a swig. His eyebrows furrow as he processes the answer.

"What's wrong with how I've been drinking?" He says innocent as a baby. "I thought it was good for you."

Both of the real adults look at him. They process and think. They understand. They know.

Still, Wonder Woman checks, "It is good to stay hydrated with the consumption of water."

"I," Captain Marvel stutters, "yes? That's what I said, isn't it?"

Now, they calm down and untense. Green Lanterns sighs. Wonder Woman completely relaxes her body. They both chuckle in a pleasant disbelief.

Now, Captain Marvel frets. He worries even more, wanting to solve a problem he doesn't know about. A problem that, the two heroes realize, is not actually a problem.

"Dear brother!" Wonder Woman hollers. This sends Green Lantern into hysterics, and he laughs for a time. Soon, he sobers up and closes some distance between Captain Marvel and himself.

Before he can say anything, though, Flash rushes in.

The Flask

Literally any hero that knows Captain Marvel will tell you that the man is absolutely amazing, pure and above anything such as cheating, drinking, or even smoking. The JL knows this, the YJ knows this, Teen Titans know this, even the Fawcett heroes know this.

Billy didn’t know this. He honestly had no clue other heroes looked up to him that much but anyways, we have to talk about the prelude to this incident.

See, Billy was minding his own business walking through the trenches, because let’s be honest that’s where he lives, (or at least that’s where he lives in the Superman/Shazam movie). Anyways, on this walk home, he finds a flask just on the ground. He picked it up.

Billy: “Oh cool! A water bottle! It’s a little small though.”

Yeah… anyways, he went to a gas station and cleaned it out of any remaining funny smelling liquid. He even filled it with some tapwater when he was done. So… Kablam!

Strange Water Bottle: Acquired!

Let Billy tell you, he was so proud about finding this water bottle. It had a cool sunflower on it and everything. And sure maybe adults look at him weirdly whenever he drinks from it but whatever! He has a water bottle now!

In fact, he was so happy about this water bottle, he even took it to work, a.k.a. superheroing.

Marvel: *finishes beating up a villain and takes out his flash so he can drink some water*

Fawcitizen: “Wow… Guess the cheese is finally letting loose, huh?”

Elderly Fawcitizen: “It’s about damn time. That young man has been slaving around with the other heroes saving people for years. Let him let loose.”

Fawcitizen: *nods head* “Never heard a truer statement.”

The elderly Fawcitizen and the other Fawcitizen were a little concerned at how he was downing the flask without faltering in the slightest but whatever. It’s the Cheese. Just let him do that.

The Fawcett heroes didn’t think the same though. They wanted to bring up what could’ve happened to make him feel the need to do this, but they also didn’t know if Cap would answer honestly. Heck, he might even offended, and they don’t want that! So, they bit their tongues and kept quiet.

Of course, Billy didn’t just take his water bottle out whenever he was in Fawcett. He took it out just about anywhere. This has led to some interesting interactions with others, not that he minds.

Constantine: “I didn’t fancy you to own one of those, mate.” *points to Billy’s sunflower flask*

Marvel: “Why wouldn’t I?”

Constantine: “Touché.” *offers his own flask so they can clink them together*

Constantine and Marvel: *clinks them*

Billy was absolutely ecstatic that someone else had a water bottle like his. Now, of course, there have been negative interactions with his water bottle.

Marvel: *doing security for whatever reason at the UN and sipping from his “water bottle”*

Security Guard: *watching this* “Quite distasteful, no?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Security Guard: “I mean, this is a gathering of world leaders.”

Marvel: “So…?”

Security Guard: “So I think you’d have the tact to not drink from that here, but apparently not.”

Billy was majorly bummed that some people didn’t like his water bottle but you know what? Whatever.

By the way, because of the fact none of the heroes know why he started “drinking” they just blame each other. More specifically the JL blames the Fawcett heroes while the Fawcett heroes blame the JL.

Again to remind you, anything in Billy’s flask is water.

Also, he eventually found out that his “water bottle” was a flask from Solomon and promptly started leaving the thing at home so he could only drink from there because he was absolutely not getting rid of it.

All the heroes were glad when the sunflower flask suddenly disappeared.

[dollyfiles]

you are stalker!rafe’s new obsession

cw: dark!rafe, stalking, being rafe’s prey, obsession, explicit themes, violence, mentions of murder, knifes, blood, killing, inspired by the song “tag, you’re it.” by melanie martinez

you always felt eyes on you.

it started as an unease, a fleeting paranoia that maybe someone was watching. the first time you noticed it was in the parking lot of your favorite café.

you’d been fumbling with your keys when you felt it, that slow, suffocating pressure of being watched. but when you turned around, the only thing behind you was the golden glow of the streetlamp and the empty asphalt.

that night, you convinced yourself that you were imagining things. but then the notes started. small, carefully folded pieces of paper left under your windshield wiper. the handwriting was neat but strangely intimate, like someone whispering a secret in your ear.

“red looks good on you.”

“you shouldn’t walk alone at night.”

“i see you, sweetheart.”

your stomach twisted every time you found one. your friends laughed it off. “it’s probably some dumb guy with a crush,” they said. “creepy, but harmless.” but you knew better. and then there he was..

rafe cameron. he liked watching you. you barely knew him, but that didn’t stop him from showing up everywhere you went.

you looked soft. delicate. the kind of girl who smiled at strangers and said thank you too much. the kind of girl who had no idea how dangerous the world could be. he wondered how you’d look when you were afraid. the thought sent a slow, satisfied shiver down his spine.

it started small. a glance here, a lingering stare there. following you, just to see if you’d notice. but you never did. not at first. so, he pushed further.

one night, you woke up gasping. there was a soft and deliberate sound right outside your window. your heart pounded as you reached for your phone, hands shaking. peeling back the curtain just a bit, you saw him.

rafe.

standing beneath the streetlamp, staring at your window. a slow grin curled across his face as he saw you hiding there, watching. you shut the curtain so fast it nearly ripped off the rod.

good. he thought. the fear suited you.

the next morning, you found a fresh note tucked into your mailbox.

“run, little rabbit.”

your hands shook as you crumpled it, tightness building in your throat. you immediately told your friends. they said you were overreacting. you then told the police. they told you they couldn’t do much without proof.

that was the worst part. no one believed you. no one except rafe. and he loved that. but the real fun started when he got inside..

the first time, he didn’t take anything. didn’t break anything. just stood in your room, breathing in the scent of you—sweet, something floral, something innocent.

a single red rose was placed on your pillow one evening when you came home late. your perfume bottle—half-empty even though you hadn’t used it in days.

rafe wanted you to know he’d been there. that he could reach you whenever he wanted. that you were his.

on the night he finally decided to take you, it rained.

thunder rumbled in the distance as he stood outside your apartment, watching the glow of your bedroom window. you were in there. safe, warm, his. you just didn’t know it yet.

a click of the lock. the back door swung open with ease. you’d been good about locking it the last few nights. he wondered if you’d slipped up—or if you were getting too comfortable.

either way, it didn’t matter. rafe stepped inside, his pulse steady, movements slow. he didn’t rush. didn’t make a sound.

you were in the living room, curled up on the couch, phone in your hand. you were texting someone—he could see the soft glow of the screen lighting up your face.

you had no idea he was right there. he let the seconds stretch, savoring the moment. then, finally—he knocked. soft at first. then harder. persistent. your stomach dropped.

for a long, delicious moment, silence stretched between you. he could picture your heartbeat picking up, that sweet little pulse hammering in your throat.

you didn’t react at first. smart girl. but it was too late.

a low chuckle echoed from the dark hallway. you froze, pulling your knees to your chest. "you hide like a scared little rabbit," rafe’s voice drawled from the shadows.

he was inside.

you immediately bolted. ripping the kitchen drawer open, you snatched the first knife your fingers touched, your pulse a wild drum in your ears.

then his dark figure stepped forward. he was drenched from the storm, his shirt clinging to his chest, his blue eyes locked onto you like you were prey. he moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment.

"y/n," he murmured, tilting his head. "you weren't supposed to run yet.” your grip on the knife tightened, “get out." you screamed. his smirk deepened, amused. "now, why would I do that?"

the air in the room thickened. then—your phone rang. the shrill sound shattered the tension, and in that split second, you lunged.

the knife sliced through the air, but rafe was faster. he caught your wrist mid-swing, twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. you gasped in pain. you made it too easy.

"you fight, too?" his breath was warm against your ear as he yanked you close, his grip rough, "i like that." you thrashed, kicking at him, but he barely flinched. the phone kept ringing. you screamed.

"you’re making this way more fun than i expected," he murmured, like this was a game. and you were his favorite new toy. your stomach lurched.

you couldn't let him win.

your eyes darted around the kitchen, searching and then your eyes caught it. the kettle. still full from when you’d boiled water earlier.

with one desperate motion, you threw yourself forward, stretching your free arm as far as it would go—fingers closing around the kettle's handle. and then you swung.

rafe screamed. the sting of boiling water shot through him. and his grip loosened just enough. you wrenched free, diving for the knife. your fingers closed around the handle, and before you could think twice—before you could hesitate—a flash of silver.

cold steel buried into his stomach. his breath hitched. the world around him tilted. his hands shot to the knife, warmth spreading beneath his fingertips, the sting sharp, alive.

and then he looked at you. you were panting. wide-eyed. but not terrified. no, this was something else entirely.

anger. power. something dark, something almost hungry. rafe’s lips twitched, his vision going hazy, but still—he grinned. you were finally playing the game.

you took a step closer, your breath shaky but your grip on the knife solid. "tag," you whispered. and then—you twisted it. "you’re it," you spat lastly.

a guttural sound escaped him, half groan, half laughter. fuck. he felt it all. the blade cutting deeper, the fire spreading through his veins, the sharp edge of death curling around him like a lover.

god, you were perfect.

his vision began to darken at the edges, but he was still grinning, teeth red with blood. his hand weakly reached for you, brushing your wrist, smearing crimson against your skin.

"shit," he rasped, his voice slurred, "you finally get it, don’t ya’?”

you yanked the knife free, and he choked, body collapsing to the floor. everything felt distant, fading—but not before he caught one last glimpse of you standing over him, fierce, wild, untouchable.

rafe had never wanted you more.

and as the world went black, the last thought that curled through his sick mind was simple.

you were finally his kind of dangerous.

a/n: something a lil different but im actually very happy with this !!

tags: @dearapril @deansbeer @rafesheaven @rafeysbangs @rafesbowbunny @rafespreciosa @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @plaidcowboy @filthyrafe @figthoughts @drewsephrry @et6rnalsun @dulcescorderitas @littlelamy @inspiredangel @fawnhart @cherrygirlfriend @rafesweetie @hauntedfawnn @starzify

[gf2bellamy]

So I am obsessed with fics where the bau find out that early seasons!Spencer has a girlfriend so if you could please write any form of that I would literally lose my mind ♡

Maybe Morgan and Garcia (because those two are everything to me) run into Spencer and his girlfriend on a date or something??

ice cream — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: eating ice cream, reader throws away an ice cream cone bc she doesn't like it a/n: hiii thank youu for your request !! also morgan and garcia might just b the best duo ever

The ice cream shop was a cozy little place, with pastel-colored walls and a chalkboard menu filled with swirling, handwritten flavors. The air was sweet with the scent of waffle cones and sugary toppings, and the soft hum of the freezer behind the counter added to the cheerful ambiance.  

You stood in front of the glass case, your eyes scanning the colorful assortment of flavors, each one more tempting than the last. But as much as you wanted to try something new, the sheer number of options was overwhelming. 

“I don’t know what to get,” you mumbled, leaning closer to Spencer, who was standing beside you.

Spencer tilted his head, studying the menu with that thoughtful expression you loved so much. “You like chocolate, don’t you?” he asked, pointing to the rich, dark chocolate ice cream that looked as smooth as silk. 

You nodded but hesitated. “I do, but… I kind of want to try something new. What if I don’t like it, though?” You bit your lip, glancing at the line infront of you. There was only one customer ahead of you, and you knew you had to decide soon. 

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “How about we buy three ice creams?” he suggested, his tone gentle. “One chocolate, so you have something you know you’ll like, something new for you to try, and one for me. That way, if you don’t like the new flavor, you won’t be stuck with it.” 

You blinked at him, surprised by his solution. “Three ice creams? Isn’t that a little excessive?” 

He shrugged, his smile turning playful. “It’s not every day we get ice cream. Might as well make it an adventure.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his logic, and the tension in your shoulders melted away. “Okay,” you agreed, a happy smile spreading across your face. “Let’s do it.” 

When it was your turn to order, you decided to go with the chocolate mint for your “adventure” flavor, while Spencer chose a classic vanilla. The chocolate ice cream, your reliable favorite, was the third choice.

Once you stepped outside, the warm afternoon sun greeted you, casting a golden glow over the street.

You stood in front of the store, holding your two cones—one chocolate and one chocolate mint—while Spencer happily started on his vanilla.

You took a tentative lick of the chocolate mint.

Almost immediately, your face scrunched up in disgust. “Oh god, no. What is that?” you exclaimed, the strong mint flavor overwhelming your taste buds. It was like eating toothpaste mixed with chocolate, and you quickly reached for the chocolate ice cream to wash away the taste. 

Spencer burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking as he watched you struggle. “That bad, huh?” he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“It’s awful!” you said, glaring at the cone. “I don’t know how anyone could like this. I’m throwing it away.” 

“Wait, wait,” Spencer said, still chuckling as he held out a hand to stop you. “Let me try it.” 

You hesitated but handed him the cone, watching as he took a small bite. He chewed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, that’s… not great,” he admitted, handing it back to you with a grin. “But at least now you know.” 

“Yeah, now I know to never trust chocolate mint again,” you said, tossing the cone into a nearby trash can with a dramatic flourish. “Chocolate is the only flavor for me.” 

Spencer laughed again, the sound infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile despite your ice cream disaster. “Well, at least you tried,” he said, nudging your shoulder gently.

You leaned into him, savoring the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream and the even sweeter moment with him. 

The sun was warm on your skin as you and Spencer strolled down the bustling street, hand in hand. The ice cream in your free hand was slowly melting.

Spencer’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, a small, comforting gesture that made your heart flutter.

You pointed out different stands as you walked, smiling at the quirky items on display and debating whether you should buy a ridiculously oversized hat or a silly toy.

“Look at that!” you said, tugging on Spencer’s hand as you gestured to a stand selling handmade jewelry. “Those earrings are so pretty. Do you think they’d suit me?” 

Spencer glanced at the stand, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered your question. “I think they’d look great on you,” he said after a moment, his tone sincere. “But you’d look good in anything.” 

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Smooth, Dr. Reid. Very smooth.” 

He chuckled, his cheeks turning pink, and you were about to tease him further when a loud, familiar voice cut through the air. 

“Reid?!” 

Both of you froze, turning toward the sound. Your eyes landed on a stand a few feet away, where a blonde woman in colorful, eccentric clothing was waving enthusiastically. Next to her stood a tall, muscular man with a smirk on his face.

You recognized them immediately—Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. 

Before you could react, Garcia was rushing toward you, her arms outstretched like she was about to tackle Spencer in a hug. Morgan followed at a more slower pace, his smirk growing wider as he approached. 

“Oh my gosh, Reid!” Garcia exclaimed, stopping just short of throwing herself at him. “What are you doing here? And who is this?” Her eyes landed on you, sparkling with curiosity.

You felt Spencer’s hand tighten around yours, and you glanced at him, confused. His mouth had fallen open slightly, and a blush was creeping up his neck, spreading to his cheeks.

“Uh, hi, Garcia. Morgan,” Spencer said, his voice slightly higher than usual. “This is, um… this is—” 

“His girlfriend,” you finished for him, offering a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you both. Spencer’s told me so much about you.” 

Garcia’s eyes widened, and she let out a delighted squeal. “His girlfriend?!” she repeated, looking between you and Spencer. “Oh my gosh, Reid, you’ve been holding out on us! How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell us?!” 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but Morgan beat him to it. “Yeah, pretty boy,” Morgan said, crossing his arms and giving Spencer a teasing look. “Since when do you keep secrets from your team? Especially one this big.” 

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he adjusted his glasses nervously. “It’s… not a secret,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “I just… haven’t mentioned it yet.” 

“Haven’t mentioned it?” Garcia repeated, placing her hands on her hips. “Reid, this is huge! You’re dating someone! And she’s adorable!” She turned to you, her expression softening. “You are adorable, by the way. I love your outfit.” 

You laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed but charmed by Garcia’s enthusiasm. “Thank you,” you said. “I’ve heard a lot about you too. Spencer says you’re the heart of the team.” 

Garcia beamed, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Well, he’s not wrong,” she said, winking at Spencer.

“So,” she said, turning to you with a mischievous glint in her eye, “what’s it like dating our boy genius? Does he recite random facts at you all the time? Oh, does he—” 

“Garcia,” Spencer interrupted, his voice pleading. “Please don’t.” 

You laughed, enjoying the way Spencer squirmed under their teasing. “He does all of those things,” you said, grinning at him. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Garcia sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet. I think I might cry.” 

Morgan rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Alright, lovebirds,” he said, “we’ll let you get back to your date. But Reid, you’re officially on notice. No more secrets, got it?” 

“Got it,” Spencer said, though he looked like he was already regretting the promise. 

As Garcia and Morgan walked away, Garcia turned back to wave enthusiastically. “It was so nice meeting you!” she called. “We’ll have to do lunch soon!” 

You waved back, still smiling, before turning to Spencer. “Well, that was… unexpected.” 

Spencer let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry about that.” 

“They’re great,” you said, squeezing his hand. “And they clearly care about you a lot. I’m glad I finally got to meet them.” 

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m glad too,” he said.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s nice to know your team has your back.”  you said softly.

Spencer smiled, as he tightened his hold on your hand. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” 

[lowkeyerror]

Our Soul

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Requested, soulmate au, mostly fluff, like the smallest dash angst maybe

Summary: When searching for coven members, Agatha finds her soulmate. Her nerves about the woman being involved only grow when The Witches' Road turns out to be legit.

An: Sorry the request took so long, I did simplify it a bit I hope that it's still enjoyable.

Masterlist

Agatha made a mistake. The moment she had looked into Y/n’s eyes, she was sure of it. She’d always thought finding her soulmate would be this horrific thing. That the description of having your soul intertwined with someone else's sounded painfully, boring, and wasteful. Yet when she had it all wrong.

It was the soft pull of a flower to a summer breeze. It was if something warm finally reached her freezing soul. The souls were translucent with glowing specs shinning inside. Agatha’s, dark purple like her magic; Y/n's, golden like the tint of her irises sparkling in the sun. They twirled up together, two halves becoming one whole. Then they lay flat, into a singular form.

She visualized it, beautiful, all encompassing, and complete. However she was still horrified in some ways. She glanced at the paper with Y/n’s name scrawled across it and then back at her. It was too late to take back the offer. The way that Y/n's wyes lit up at the mention of the road was impossible to miss.

She’d have to do something about it. There was no way she was going to let her end up like the rest of the people on the list. Y/n dying was nowhere in Agatha’s plans.

Y/n made a mistake. She was sure of it when Agatha’s hand pulled her down on to the road. The way her mind had called Agatha’s hand a perfect fit for her’s. The entire reason she had agreed to come in the first place was now jeopardized. All because of Agatha’s illustrious blue eyes, her cunning smile, and the warm softness of her hand in yours.

She was here to find her soulmate. That’s all she wanted from the road. Yet here she is swooning over Agatha Harkness, known most for her treachery. It felt like she was failing her one true love.

When Agatha stops abruptly at the last step, Y/n crashes into her. Agatha is quick to tug at your wrist, pulling you back into her, rather than tumbling backwards.

“Are you alright sweetheart?”

Y/n watches Agatha’s eyes scan over her, worry easily perceived. The younger woman respond with a loose nod. She was being pulled in by the current of Agatha’s crystal-esque eyes.

“Yeah,” is all she can manage to say.

She smiles slyly knowing she had Y/n flustered. Agatha doesn’t let go of her, the older witch’s pull persisting. The older woman doesn’t trust this road. She knows it isn’t real, that this shouldn’t be happening. Whatever this is, she wouldn’t let it claim you.

While she takes charge of the others, Agatha never strays far from you. She felt like she had to protect Y/n. After the road’s first test Agatha knee she was right. Mrs. Hart was dead, and everyone was shaken up about it. Especially Y/n.

As everyone walks away from her body, Agatha falls in step with Y/n.

“How are you holding up?”

Y/n’s gaze stays on the ground she shake her head slightly, as if she expects a thought to fall out, “I don’t know.”

“Is this your first time dealing with that kind of thing?”

Y/n tilts her head, “Agatha we’re hundreds of years old. I’m no stranger to death or dead bodies. It’s just… been a long time.”

“Right.”

“Why’d you bring her?” Y/n couldn’t help but ask.

Agatha fumbles for an answer. The truth being that she didn't think things would go this far. This was supposed to end in the basement. She would’ve stolen everyone’s powers then manipulated Mrs. Hart’s memories and she would be none the wiser. She was intended to be a placeholder not a carcass.

Y/n watches Agatha carefully wondering what kind of lie she would tell, how the woman would spin the story. Instead she sees a small dip in the character Agatha was always playing.

“I didn't think she'd get hurt,” it’s a small, but honest truth.

Agatha was scared of the woman’s response. Perhaps Y/n would call bullshit and turn on her. Everyone was always so quick to point a finger at her. She had been taking the blame since she was a child all that time ago. So it would be nothing new to her.

“I believe you.”

Y/n doesn't know why she said it. She didn't plan on responding, but something inside of her was begging her to speak. It was another flaw in her eyes, wanting to bring comfort to Agatha. The woman that was distracting her from her soul mate.

Agatha is fighting the urge to question why you believe her. She didn't deserve your trust. She’s staying to begin to believe she didn't deserve Y/n. Yet that didn't necessarily matter anymore, their souls were already intertwined.

“We should try summoning another green witch,” Y/n suggests.

It causes a bit of commotion in the group, but with no choice left, they try it.

“M’lady.”

When Rio Vidal comes crawling out of the ground Agatha lunges at her. The rest of the group is stunned by their clear complex past. Agatha’s not the only one who reacts to The Green Witch.

Y/n’s eyes widen, “Oh no.”

When Rio sees Y/n she turns away from Agatha. She stalks towards the woman, cautiously taking Y/n’s hand in her. With a charming smile she presses her lips to the backside of the younger witch’s hand.

“Mi vida.”

Agatha watches with her jaw nearly on the floor. The blush on Y/n’s face told her everything she needed to know.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Rio drops Y/n’s hand, “What? I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd come by, help out.”

“So are you a green witch?”

Before Rio responds Y/n cuts her off, “As green as it gets, let’s keep moving.”

“I like that idea,” Agatha seconds that and begins to walk off, Y/n trails behind her.

The rest of the coven eventually joins.

“So... you know Rio too?”

Agatha keeps her gaze straight ahead, “Yup.”

Y/n let’s out an amused huff of air, “Seems like we know her in the same way too.”

“It does look that way. I gotta say, I would've never guessed she was your type.”

“At one point in time I thought she was my soul mate. You have to admit under all that cunning is someone so tragically lonely, but eternally beautiful. I always doubted that love would exist without fear of her."

Agatha knew what the girl really meant when she said ‘her'. Death had an air of beauty about her not only in appearance.

“Rio is everything you said, but you forgot to add irritating,” Agatha adds.

Y/n laughs at her, “Always showing up at the most convenient times for herself. Which just so happens to be inconvenient to everyone else.”

“I can't believe you thought she was your soulmate.”

Y/n looks away bashfully, “Well you must’ve too all things considered.”

Agatha disputes the statement instantly, “I never really bought into the whole soulmate thing.” She takes a moment to look into Y/n’s eyes, “At least not until recently.”

“Why not?”

“Agatha didn't believe in any of those kind of happy ending fairytale like romances sweetheart, just not in her character,” Rio steps in between the pair to get in on their conversation.

“Something to do with you maybe?” Y/n shots at Rio.

Rio gasps in faux-shock, “No, I’m the perfect wife. Right, my love?”

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Ex-wife, current thorn in my side.”

“Aww she’s so grumpy without her magic, Y/n. She’s usually a much more cheerful spirit.”

“Fuck off,” Agatha starts walking faster.

She reaches over Rio, to grab Y/n’s wrist pulling her along in a similar way she did down the road in the first place.

Whatever conversation that was going to play out died upon seeing another trial. By the look on the witch ‘s face it was obviously Alice’s. The outfits, the rock band, the grunge of it all was a bit fun at first. Yet the fun never lasts in these things, especially when threatened by a generational curse.

The ballad was once again the key to the trial. Almost reminiscent of your way onto the road, singing the ballad helped Alice defeat her curse. However it was not without a cost, as Teen had some how gotten injured.

The responsibility fell on a group. A second trial and second death was looming over the group. The care and distress in Agatha’s movement was stark contrast to what had happened when Mrs. Hart died.

Y/n couldn’t help it as she silently asked Rio if it was the boy’s time. Lady Death stood silent, pensive, as if she herself was gauging the situation. Then she shook her head.

It was during this time that his wound was healed. Though he lay unconscious, it was general consensus that he'd be alright. While this placated the others, Agatha was not leaving his side.

The rest of the coven went to set up camp for the night. Y/n knew she wasn’t obligated to stay with Agatha and Teen, but she wanted to.

Whatever Agatha was feeling, for once it was plain on her face. The moment was fragile, something Y/n was mindful of as she sat quietly next to Agatha.

“Have you ever lost something so pivotal to your existence that without it, you no longer feel whole?”

“My brother,” Y/n’s gaze lingers on Billy.

“Do you… have you seen him in other people?”

Y/n nods, “Sometimes I can’t help it. I see someone that looks like him or likes the things he likes or acts like him, but they’re not him.”

Agatha turns her attention to Y/n. The far away look in her eye makes the older witch move close to her.

“What happened to him?”

Y/n’s bottom lips curls up into her mouth, “I happened.”

Agatha’s hand finds it’s way on top of Y/n’s. The younger witch intertwines their fingers. Y/n lets out a large breath, trying to center herself.

“My son,” Agatha whispers. “I see Teen and I see the kind of boy that mine could’ve grown to be .”

“Agatha,” Y/n says her voice softly.

Agatha clears her throat, “Let’s go see what kind of camp they’ve set up.”

She stands abruptly, but makes sure to extend her hand to the other woman. Y/n takes the help to stand. Agatha is reluctant to drop the girl’s hand, but she does. That doesn’t keep the woman away from her. Y/n walks close enough that their arms brush as the walk to camp.

When both sit, the other’s are full of laughter, reminiscing about their battle scars. Agatha shows off her's and the rest give her a roar of laughter that she didn’t expect.

The laughter dies down as Rio talks about having a scar. Something that both Agatha and Y/n know to be false. The younger of the pair can’t help, but glare as Rio spins a tale of a woman. Someone that Y/n knows to be Agatha.

A trick to rile the woman up. It works as Agatha storms off. Rio tries to go after her.

“I think you’ve done enough,” Y/n stands to stop her.

Rio raises her hands in defensive before gesturing them in the direction Agatha ran off in, “By all means then, you go after her. Just remember at the end of the road, your soulmate will be waiting for you.”

“Fuck you Rio,” Y/n goes after Agatha.

She finds Agatha just standing in a field. Y/n approaches her, moving to stand in front of Agatha. The powerless witch doesn’t look at her.

Y/n takes Agatha’s face in both of her hands. Agatha’s expression has a million facets to it. Sorrow, regret, anger, but most prevalently Y/n sees a plea.

“Death has a nasty way of lingering doesn't she?”

A single tears slides down Agatha’s cheek. Y/n wipes it away with her thumb.

Her laughter is shaky, “You didn't have to come after me.”

“Agatha, I wanted to be here,” Y/n reassure her.

“I don’t deserve you,” she leans into Y/n’s touch.

It’s like Y/n’s says it to herself when she speaks, “ I decide what I deserve.”

Agatha’s crystal blue eyes meet Y/n’s, “And what about your soulmate?”

“This isn’t about that.”

Agatha’s holds Y/n’s in place against her face, “What if it is?”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What are you saying?”

Agatha steroids out of the woman’s hold. Her hands move wildly as she talks, “Don’t you feel it? When we locked eyes, I saw our souls mixing. I know that you're too good for me. I’m this no good evil hag, with a reputation that makes dictators seem like saints. I don’t deserve to have a soulmate, especially one as good as you.”

When Y/n looks into Agatha’s eyes she feels it. She sees what Agatha saw when they first met. Their souls coming together, in what is certainly the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

Tears form in Y/n’s eyes. She strides over to Agatha, again cupping the woman’s face in her hands. Y/n smiles through her tears.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

A smile fights it's way onto Agatha face, “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Agatha I’ve dated the physical embodiment of death. I don't care,” Y/n tucks a piece of Agatha’s hair behind her ear.

“I’m no good-”

Whatever Agatha had planned on saying didn’t matter to Y/n. The younger girl plants her lips on Agatha’s firmly. The older woman melts into the kiss the words dying on her lips.

“You’re good to me,” Y/n breathes out as the kiss ends.

Agatha hugs Y/n’s waist, keeping her close. Their foreheads rests against each other. The brunette’s eyes slowly open. There’s fire behind the blue orbs

“I will be, I promise.”

The road wasn’t finished and Agatha had yet to regain her power. However, she already felt more complete with Y/n in her arms. A part of her restored upon connecting with her soulmate.

[pomegranatelifethis]

A mistake

**English is not my native language**

The place where it all began, trapped in a small room between only you and the darkness. When did being Bruce Wayne's daughter make you happy? People looked at the Wayne family's children with admiration, but no one saw you. Perhaps the biggest problem with you was that your existence meant nothing to anyone.

Days passed, you were forgotten more and more with each passing minute. How empty it was that Alfred forgot to invite you to dinner every night, that Damian didn't find you entertaining, that Dick didn't care about you... In all this chaos, you felt like you were being pushed aside. And you were hiding behind your tears, with the feeling of loneliness getting deeper with every moment.

But no one noticed.

One day, there was a terrible silence in the dark streets of Gotham. When the Joker decided to take care of you, none of the family noticed you were missing. The heroes fighting outside were so busy protecting the city that they didn't even care that you were missing. Many nights you had to go out quietly, wander the streets and come back. But you never really became a family. No one called you, no one noticed you were missing.

Everything took on a different meaning in Joker's hands. His sarcastic smile was wearing you out more and more every day. He constantly ignored you in his games and made you feel like nothing. The tortures and psychological games were weakening you so much that you eventually started to accept: No one really cared about you.

The first day, when Joker kidnapped you, no one noticed. Everything was in the past. When he disappeared a few days later, no one was surprised. A week later, no one even called you. Two weeks, two whole weeks… But there was something. During those two weeks, something changed. A void was created within everyone. They had begun to realize, but it was too late.

First Days - Joker's Games:

When the Joker kidnapped you, you were afraid of physical pain at first, but over time the psychological torture began to become a greater threat. He was starting to learn about your weaknesses, fears and pains. He was constantly causing you pain and trying to slowly break your spirit. The pain you have experienced before has never been this deep.

Your body could heal, but your soul would be much harder to heal. The Joker was testing your mental limits. At first he physically challenged you: chains, beatings, cuts… but over time he became more insidious. “Do you think your family is looking for you?” he was saying to you, there was a mocking sparkle in his eyes. “You will just be a loss, forgotten. No one will remember you.” These words hurt you more than you had ever felt before.

Every day he questioned you in some way and left you in pain. His biggest torture was leaving you alone. He left you in a room for hours, days, silently. When he entered the room, you saw him smiling. And that smile made you feel like everything was over. Sometimes he would tie you to a table and ask you to close your eyes. “Aren't you going to follow me?” he would ask, with that cold emptiness in his eyes.

The Batfamily's Realization - Delayed Guilt:

.

The Joker's Last Games - Acceptance:

As time went on, Joker broke you more and more every day. It seemed like everything was lost for you now. He enjoyed seeing you. “A family, right? “But you lost them,” he said. And one day, he tied you to a chair and said that old saying again. “No one will remember you. Your family lost you. You are also a loss that they don't remember.”

At that moment, something changed in your eyes. That old light disappeared from his eyes. You fell into such a deep void that nothing could get you out of there anymore. It only took one word to break. That word came out of Joker's mouth. “They lost you because they never wanted you.”

Family Regrets - Lost Forever:

Bruce shook you and said, “Forgive me,” holding your shoulder. Tim, Jason, Damian and Dick were there too, but no matter how much they told you how sorry they were, it was different from what you felt. “Don't try to forgive me. "It was too late," you could say, but your voice cracked and a few tears rolled down your eyes.

The deeper the void gets as you feel how tightly they hold you. With every touch, you feel like you're being pulled back one step further. At that moment, everything they think they love about you turns into a pressure on you. When they say they want to hug you, hold you, take care of you every time they approach you, a feeling pushes you back. As you feel this, your body seems to be running away from them, but your heart is still waiting for love. No matter how much they want to hug you, your body wants to escape from them.

Bruce: Bruce's hands could feel the pain inside you as he held you tightly. But you involuntarily pull your body back. At that moment, Bruce's pitying gaze pushes you away. So much had happened that everything he did to protect you was never enough. “I can't let you go anywhere,” he whispered, but there was an increasing obsession in his every word as you couldn't even take a step. Every time he approaches you, he holds you so tightly that as you feel it, the little voice inside you says, “Don't leave me.”

But every touch of his cuts you like a knife. “Do you think you like this?” you think. At that moment, as you think about how much Bruce loves you, your body involuntarily moves further away, and you respond to every approach with fear.

Tim: Tim, everything changed when they lost you. Now that he had found you, the desire to control every moment of you was increasing. While he was watching your every move, he was pushing every limit to protect you. But every time, your body was retreating even one step. Even though he approached so quickly, every move of his pushed you further back. “Don't be afraid of me,” he was saying, but the fierce possessiveness in his approach made you feel like a pit that took you out of this world.

Every touch, every touch, was causing your traumas to come to life in your body. Your withdrawal was bringing him closer. As you thought everything was over, you were lost in time. When he said, "Stay away from me," there was a kind of bullying in those words that tried to close you down even more. But you were running away from him with every move, trying to prevent your body from shaking involuntarily every time you felt his hand.

Jason: When Jason found you, he felt like he missed every moment you were lost and buried that emptiness inside you. But when he found you, his hands really scared you. He hugs you so tightly that every muscle tightens, and as he tries to touch every part of you, you get colder and colder inside. “You won't be harmed, I promise,” he said, but there was something in that promise that turned into holding you, controlling you, trapping you completely to yourself. Day by day, Jason was becoming more and more possessive of you, but you felt every moment with a desire to escape and be protected. Every time his hand held you, every time he tried to caress your cheek, it caused invisible wounds to swell on your body.

When you said, “Stay with me,” your body didn't want to take another step towards him, and you were getting more and more tense with every movement. The heavy pressure on everything made you feel colder inside, forcing you to belong to no one. Even though you wanted to see the love in him, you didn't think you could really trust him anymore. Every violent hug pushed you back, reminding you of feelings you were sure you had forgotten. Jason's touches no longer felt like comfort, but like a threat.

Damian: When Damian found you, there was fear in his eyes, but that fear had turned into an obsession to protect you. Seeing the emptiness inside you pushed him to own it more. But those looks that were always trying to possess you suddenly pierced you. Every time he touched you, every time he leaned towards you, there was a sense of fear that pushed you back. Whenever he brought his hands closer to you, you involuntarily took a step back. When he said, "Don't run away from me," these words broke you down, along with the weakness in his voice. As your body retreated, Damian wanted to get closer. Not for you, but for fear of losing him. But with every touch, another trauma opened, and with every show of attention, you retreated more. Eventually, this obsession was causing you so much pain that you couldn't trust anyone.

Dick: When Dick found you, he wanted to hug you first, but when he noticed the tension in your body, he took a step back. But this retreat was like one step closer to losing you for him. The fact that he wanted to spend every moment with you and protect you left a painful echo in your body. He was so close that every time you escaped, he was trying to attract you more. When he said, "Don't leave me," there was so much fear in his eyes that he thought that if you took one more step back, you would lose him completely. But for you, every move became a threat. Every touch of his was pulling you down further.

Conclusion: When the Batfamily lost you, there was deep guilt within them, but what they felt after finding you combined with the emptiness within you and turned into obsessive possession. With each approach, each time they hugged you, the more fear grew inside you as you felt how tightly their hands held you. And in the eyes of each of them was a psychological pressure combined with the fear of losing you. But you felt completely lost, pushing back every touch, to the people you once thought you loved. You felt like a person left alone in fear and pain, having lost confidence.

@celestialbooks

[rabbitwitch2poems]

Story turned out a little different than I planned at the end but it all works out ^^ part 5 to the story based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7

        Danny was vibrating and he was pretty sure even the neighbors could hear the purr/hum coming from his core. Today was the day! He gets to meet all of moms cool hero friends! He only really learned the bare bones of this universe before choosing it, the heros, villains, side kicks, all those people fighting to help others; it's why Danny chose this universe in the first place! But he only really knew about five heros, there was the creepy hero of darkness Batman, (he was kinda worried about that man, but then again he had a fear of the dark before he became a halfa so that's probably why)

        

          He also knew about the zooming man called flash, the green lanterns, his momma, and last of all the one that is the most cause of his humming, the invincible superman! Danny always admired how someone from the stars grew up on earth and chose to be it's protector! Danny spent hours in his room at CWs haunt in the ghost realm watching the man in the red cape saving people, helping those who were suicidal, stopping disasters from harming others, stopping villains, and yet always having time for his family. Danny had to admit he was his second favorite after his mother that he admired the most. Also helps that superman was an alien from another planet, he had so many questions! 

          A gentle knock on his bedroom door followed by his mother entering with her classic smile, "you ready for breakfast my little one?" She asked chuckling at the child nodding quickly and zooming past her to get to the kitchen. Momma always made the best breakfast, she usually tried to keep him on a healthy diet with the occasional snack, but breakfasts were where she shined. Arranged in batches were small plates of fruit, yogurt, freshly baked bread, and glasses of milk and juice all encircling a plate with bread and some kind of food on top. 

       "That is called strapatsada, my own mother would make it for me in the mornings" she smiled after speaking as if remembering a good memory, "now eat up, once breakfast is finished we get prepared for our trip." 

     Young Danny loved the food, scarfing it down like someone who was lost out to sea for months before running to his bedroom to get dressed. By the time he exited his room his mother was also all dressed and ready. The drive didn't take long seeing as their home was just a couple blocks away from the main entrance, though Danny was confused as his mother drove into a small alleyway with a broken down looking telephone box (talk about ancient tech!) 

  "Okay my little warrior here is where we get to mommy's friends," his mother exclaimed causing Danny to be more confused. 

"Momma dats a wox," the child responded causing his mother to chuckle. 

"Oh my little one it's merely a disguise for the transporter that will take us up there," she said pointing at the sky.

It took Danny a second but once he realized what momma ment his eyes went wide as he started hopping in the car seat and trying to unlatch the buckles keeping him there causing his mother to laugh as she got out of the car and quickly moved to get Danny out of his seat.

     Upon a closer look the supposed transport was just a phone box... Almost completely glass with a metal frame and a phone with no receiver. Upon entering the small place momma entered a long string of numbers and a voice emanated from around them, "unknown person inhabiting transport pad, please leave and try again," his mother sighed deeply and looked down at Danny with a small smile then back up at the phone with a flat emotionless face.

"Wonder Woman 003 override, allow me and my child in immediately or I will turn you into a box of scrap," there was a small pause after his mother spoke, as if the voice was considering their options before responding, "authorized,  Wonder Woman 003, child alpha 9 001"

    A sudden white light engulfed them causing Danny to cling to his mom before suddenly they were walking through a large portal looking thing (a pang of fear echoed from deep in Danny's core though he can't remember why this object would cause such a feeling). Before him was a sight to behold, a large round table in the center of a giant room with glass walls showing the stars, moon, and earth (if Danny could die again he would have thought he died and went to the Elysian fields or his own personal haunt in the ghost zone). Technology of all kinds where everywhere and people were walking to and from places; most of them heros! 

     It seems that they interrupted a meeting in progress, Batman and Superman were standing up pointing at a large hologram floating from the center of the large table. Along the table sat The Flash, two green lanterns, two people dressed up to what Daniel thought looked like owls, a man who looked like he was wearing a fish with a trident and a long beard (the guy was buff and Danny wondered for a small second if wearing fish made you superhuman) and lastly a woman wearing a cool looking leather jacket. Of the group of superheroes only the flash wasn't currently gawking at Danny and his mother. This was rectified by the woman who looked like an owl grabbing Flash's head and forcefully turning it towards them. 

   "Ow.... Hey! I was asking bats a....why is wonder woman holding a baby!" Flash's jaw dropped to the table as superman flew up towards the unexpected visitors. 

   "Diana....uh... Care to explain?" Supes asked as Batman walked up behind him responding to Clark's question with one of his own, "you have not been gone long enough for that to happen naturally, so I assume you found the child?"

   Danny scrunched in on himself pushing his face into his mother's neck, he didn't like the man with pointy ears. His momma stood straight holding him close and gently parting his back as she glares at everyone. "I found him on the mission with Clark, he is my ward and my child, end of story" 

      Superman looked confused floating down to the floor and walking closer to the two, "..Diana... Are you saying that child was the orb you took?" Danny turned to look at the man in blue and red with awe waving slightly at him and giggled with joy when he smiled and waved back. His momma nodded as she watched the interaction, "yes the orb turned into Danny, he was most likely made by the gods and the fates deemed me worthy to be his mother" 

     You could hear a pin drop from the lack of noise that followed his mother saying those words, Superman looked worried, batman huffed, flash was too busy eating five granola bars at once to notice and the lady in the black leather jacket got up and walked over to them. Danny could feel the emotions this woman felt, fear, curiosity, worry, and one he couldn't place a word for. 

     "Are you shure that is a good idea wonder woman? A random baby appearing from a crystal could be something different than gods," the lady in the jacket said; his mother's grip tightened on Danny a little as she nodded, "gods or not he is my child now Canary, he has displayed gifts like many of us so I brought him here to introduce him to everyone." Canary, the one momma was talking to, nodded as Batman walked up closer and reached out for Danny causing the child to flinch.

    

      The reaction from his mother was almost instant, faster than most eyes could detect (except flash but he was currently coughing from food going down the wrong tube) Batman wrist was in his mother's hands and held far away from Danny. Everyone in the room was on their feet in an instant as his mother glared at the man in black, "you scare my child again Batman and I will break it," these words were followed by his mother flinging the man's arm away like a snake as Danny was carried over to the table and sat in his mothers lap. 

        It took a couple of minutes for everyone to calm back down, Batman's face was as still as a statue as Superman checked his wrists for any fractures as the woman dressed as a hawk and Canary asked his mother questions. Most were basics, how did she find him (he appeared from the crystal she found while taking stolen items from Lex,) how old is he, (his mother said from what she can tell he is now almost a year old), which Danny nodded smiling at the two across from them as they smiled back. 

      When Superman and Batman finally sat back down at the table the important questions were asked. 

      "What are these gifts you were speaking of Diana?" The man in blue and red asked giving a gentle smile to Danny (Danny could feel worry and kindness coming from the man which made him relax a little) 

      "So far he can fly a small amount and turn invisible but he says there are more that may appear," his mother responded to the question as everyone's eyes turned to Danny at her response

         "The little tyke can talk already?" The flash had finally finished eating and focused on danny who focused on him in turn. He almost got dizzy from the amount of emotions that were flying by from that man in all red. Danny didn't know how but something about the energy within those emotions felt...familiar, like a ghost he once met though he can't remember who. His mother looked down at him and patted his back, "like I said, he has many gifts from the gods, would you like to say hello little warrior?" 

       Danny was hesitant at first, everyone was staring at him, but like his momma has said before to him, a warrior never gives in to fear and works hard to fight it back, so with a deep breath Danny nodded and said, "h...hewwo... I am Danny, you all weer weird clofing like momma," this sentence to Danny's joy caused everyone around the table to start chuckling, even the scary Batman gave a small smile amusement circling his dark emotionless aura. 

       Superman smiled in return and nodded, "okay well we have a new topic of discusses which can be continued after the update, since you missed most of it wonder woman me and batman will start from the beginning." This caused a bunch of groans which made Danny giggle, adults and their need for time, Danny sat back against his mother settling in as the conversation switched to be about some bad men doing bad things, Danny was tired from all the emotional energy and events that slowly he drifted off to sleep, happy that he got to be in this world of heros, he couldn't wait till he was old enough to help momma fight bad guys. 

                                       *********************

       Danny yawned loudly as he stretched in his mother's lap his eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the bright light of the florescent lighting of the watchtower. Rubbing his eyes he looked around him, most of the heros were gone except for superman, batman, and the cool lady in the black jacket, Canary was what momma called her, must be a hero name the boy thought. 

       Superman was staring at him, batman seemed to be looking at his wrist for some reason, and Canary was smiling as she moved to a crouch besides him and momma. "Hi Danny, your mom updated us on everything, you sound like a smart kid from what Diana has told me, we all decided that since you came from a gem.." 

"Core" Danny interrupted her causing her to pause, "core?" She asked and Danny nodded, "issa core as far as the clockman told me." Confusion, from everyone, even momma, Danny scrunched in on himself, did he say too much? Are they going to take him away from momma? Danny sure hoped not or else he would cry. Momma seemed to sense this and kissed the top of his head, "no one will take you from me little one, you can tell us more when Constantine gets here." 

    Oh no... Danny recognized that name and not just from his time viewing this world through a screen. "What in the bloody hell did you do!" Danny sighed internally as he turned to meet the eyes of the British man who just arrived through the big round portals. Constantine stopped in his tracks staring back at Danny with wide eyes, terror/fear/ oh gods we are doomed/ and other splashes of emotions crossed Constantine's face before he coughed and pulled out a piece of paper drawing something on it. 

     "Constantine what are you..." Batman began his question but was quieted by a finger held up from the man in the trenchcoat who looked like he just came out of a sewer (Danny wouldn't be surprised and neither would Batman) after he finished drawing on the paper he walked briskly over to Danny and kneeld before holding the paper out to him, "I don't know what these fools did to get you here but seeing as I'm not a f....bloody fool,(Constantine substituted what he wanted to say after a glare from Danny's mother) here is a summoning sygil so your highness can contact me at any time," he stood up and pointed at Batman,

        "no blood tests till after he is a teenager," he said before looking at his momma, "best of luck princess, you got the whole world in your hands, mabey even the entire multiverse." With that he pulled out a lighter and carved a hole out of fire into the air before walking through. Danny looked around at everyone staring at him and sighed, he was hoping he wouldn't have to explain this so soon but now he had no real choice. He was about to say something when his mother's hand went over his mouth. 

       Pausing he looked up at his mother who, showing how cool she was, was calm even with this new information and was looking around at the three other heros, "we shall talk about this in a more private area, Bruce, how do you feel about showing my son your home?" Danny blinked up at momma, if she thought the scary man was the safer place he wouldn't say anything against it...just... Did this man live in a cave? Danny had a bad feeling he lived in a cave. 

[mintyys-blog]

CRUSHED CONFUSION— bucky barnes

WARNINGS: masturbation, sexual frustration, implied sex.



You weren’t supposed to be like this.

The past few nights had been unbearable. You tossed and turned in bed, frustration coiling deep in your stomach, your body restless. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wouldn’t come—not when your thoughts were completely consumed by him.

Steve.

The golden boy. The man you’d been crushing on for ages, silently, secretly. No one knew, and you liked it that way. He was everything you could ever want—strong yet gentle, kind yet firm. You imagined his hands on you, his soothing voice whispering sweet things in your ear, his soft lips pressing against your skin.

And so, in the dead of night, unable to take the heat between your legs anymore, you reached for your vibrator.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander. You imagined Steve above you, his lips brushing over yours, his hands trailing down your body, slow and careful—because of course, he’d be gentle with you. He’d take his time, savor you, worship you.

Your back arched, your breath coming out in soft gasps as pleasure built higher and higher.

But then—A different voice entered your mind.

A raspier, deeper voice.

Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.

Your breath hitched. That wasn’t Steve. That wasn’t even close.

Suddenly, your fantasy shifted. Rough hands replaced soft ones. Teasing lips, a knowing smirk, dark blue eyes that didn’t hold gentle adoration—but something far more dangerous.

Bucky.

You whimpered, your thighs clenching. Why were you thinking about him? You barely spoke to Bucky. Sure, he was attractive—anyone with eyes could see that—but he wasn’t Steve. He was sharp where Steve was soft, unfiltered where Steve was polite.

But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

In your mind, Bucky wasn’t gentle. He didn’t take his time—he took what he wanted. He’d pin you down, his metal arm holding you in place, his breath hot against your ear as he growled against your skin. He wouldn’t whisper sweet nothings—no, he’d taunt, tease, command.

Your body tensed, pleasure hitting you like a freight train. And when you came undone, it wasn’t Steve’s name that tumbled from your lips.

It was Bucky’s.

Your eyes snapped open, your chest rising and falling rapidly as shock coursed through you.

What the hell just happened?

You stared at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest. You had never thought about Bucky like that before. At least… you didn’t think you had. So why the hell did your body react to him in a way it never did for Steve?

You rolled over, groaning into your pillow.

You were so screwed.

—

Avoiding Bucky was easier said than done.

You tried. You really did. You took the long way around hallways, busied yourself whenever he entered the room, refused to make eye contact. But it was like the universe wanted you to suffer—because, of course, you ended up being paired with him for a mission.

And it was a disaster.

You couldn’t focus. Every time he spoke, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Every time he moved, your eyes betrayed you, flickering to the way his muscles flexed beneath his tactical gear. And every time he touched you—even just a simple brush of his fingers—your breath caught in your throat.

You were losing it.

The worst part? He noticed.

Bucky kept giving you these looks—curious, amused, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying every nervous twitch, every stuttered response.

And then the mission went to hell.

The building was collapsing. You were supposed to clear out quickly, but a wrong turn led the two of you straight into a locked storage room, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind you.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, trying the handle. It didn’t budge.

You swallowed hard, pressing your back against the opposite wall. The room was small, barely enough space for the two of you. The dim emergency lighting cast shadows over Bucky’s sharp features, making him look even more intimidating.

“Alright, doll, let’s get this open,” he said, stepping closer.

Too close.

You stiffened as his chest nearly brushed against yours. The scent of gunpowder and something distinctly Bucky surrounded you, making your head spin. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and suddenly, you weren’t thinking about the mission anymore.

You were thinking about that night. The way you moaned his name. The way you imagined his hands gripping you, his breath against your skin—

Heat rushed to your face. Oh, God.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You nodded too quickly. “Y-Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!”

His brows furrowed. “You sure? You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” you squeaked.

He gave you a look. “Sweetheart, you’ve barely said a word to me all week, and now you look like you’re about to pass out.”

You bit your lip, cursing yourself. Get it together!

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing!”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a damn lie.”

“I just—” You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “I just need some space, okay?”

Bucky’s expression shifted—his amusement fading into something more serious. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Your stomach twisted. He almost sounded… hurt.

“No! No, you didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. It’s me. I’m the problem.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked, your body betrayed you again. Heat bloomed in your chest, your pulse quickening. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

Bucky’s expression flickered. His eyes darkened just slightly, and you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch—like he knew exactly what was running through your head.

“You’re blushing,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. “No, I’m not.”

He smirked. “You so are.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Bucky stepped closer again, his voice dropping. “What changed, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

You could not tell him the truth. No way in hell.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried, but even you didn’t believe it.

Bucky did not look convinced. In fact, his smirk only grew.

“Oh, I think you do,” he murmured.

You let out a strangled noise, your legs feeling like jelly. This was so much worse than you imagined.

Bucky knew.

You could see it in his eyes—the flicker of amusement, the slow realization creeping into his expression. He might not have figured out everything, but he damn sure knew something was up.

You swallowed hard, your back pressing against the cold metal shelves behind you. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape his piercing gaze.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drawled, tilting his head. “You’re actin’ real strange.”

“I’m not!” you blurted, voice higher than usual.

His smirk widened. “Lyin’ to a supersoldier? Bold move.”

You clenched your fists, heat crawling up your neck. damn it, why was he so—

“I think I figured it out.” His voice dipped lower, teasing.

Your breath hitched. “Figured what out?”

Bucky stepped forward, erasing the last bit of space between you. His body just barely grazed yours, the heat of him suffocating in the small, dimly lit storage room. You swore your heart stopped beating.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, watching you like a predator cornering its prey. “Blushing every time I’m near. Jumping outta your skin when I speak.”

“I—I don’t—”

His flesh hand lifted, brushing the barest hint of your wrist. A barely-there touch, but it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Tell me the truth, doll.” His voice was softer now. Less teasing, more… something else. Something unreadable.

Your throat went dry. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“I…” You squeezed your eyes shut. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t—

But the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I thought about you.”

Silence.

Your eyes snapped open. Bucky had gone completely still, his expression unreadable. You wanted to die, wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

His fingers twitched at his side. “…What?”

You exhaled shakily, pressing your palms against your burning face. “Oh my God, forget I said anything.”

“No.” His voice was sharp. Commanding. “Say it again.”

You groaned. “Bucky, I really don’t think—”

“Say it.”

Your breath hitched. You peeked up at him through your fingers. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and searching. The teasing lilt from before was gone.

You licked your lips nervously. “I thought about you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

His nostrils flared, his metal hand curling into a fist. His reaction only made the heat inside you worse.

“When?” he rasped.

Your entire body ignited. He knew exactly what he was asking.

You whimpered, turning your face away. “Bucky—”

“When, sweetheart?” he pressed, his voice lower now, almost dangerous.

Your heart pounded against your ribs. You couldn’t lie. Not when he was looking at you like that, like he was waiting for you to confirm whatever thought was running through his head.

“At Night,” you whispered. “In my room.”

The air crackled between you.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his metal fingers twitching. He looked tense. Restless. Almost… desperate.

You swallowed hard. “Say something.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Then, before you could react, he let out a low chuckle.

You froze. “What’s so funny?”

He smirked, eyes flickering over your face. “You’ve been drivin’ yourself crazy over this, haven’t you?”

Your cheeks burned. “Obviously!”

Another chuckle. “And all this time, you’ve been avoiding me ‘cause you’re embarrassed?”

“Yes!”

Bucky hummed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. His eyes were still locked on yours, intense and unreadable.

Then, suddenly, he leaned in.

You gasped, your body pressing further into the shelves. He was so close, his breath fanning over your cheek, his scent overwhelming.

“You should’ve told me sooner, doll,” he murmured, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your knees nearly buckled. “Bucky—”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, his smirk softer now. More genuine.

“Next time?” His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your mouth fell open, your entire body going hot.

Before you could even begin to process that, the storage door burst open, and Sam’s voice rang out.

“The hell are you two doing in here?”

You nearly collapsed.

Your entire body froze.

Sam stood in the doorway, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. The overhead lights from the hallway cast his shadow into the room, but it was nothing compared to the tension hanging in the air between you and Bucky.

You scrambled back, nearly tripping over your own feet. “N-Nothing! We weren’t doing anything!”

Sam’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his frown deepening. “Uh-huh.”

Bucky, on the other hand, was too calm. Leaning casually against the shelf, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lifting his chin toward you, he murmured, “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Oh, that smug bastard.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” you blurted, pushing past him. “Absolutely not! We were just—uh—trying to get the door open. Which is open now! Thanks, Sam! Bye!”

You didn’t wait for a response. You bolted down the hall, your face on fire, heart pounding so hard you swore it would burst.

You didn’t stop until you were safely inside your room, pressing your back against the door.

What the hell just happened?

You exhaled sharply, running a hand over your face. Your whole body was still buzzing, replaying the way Bucky had looked at you. The way his voice dipped when he told you—

“Next time, let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your stomach flipped.

You needed to get a grip.

—

The next day, you tried to go back to avoiding Bucky.

Tried and failed.

Because unlike before—when he was amused but oblivious—now he knew.

And he wasn’t letting you get away with it.

Everywhere you turned, he was there. Not even being subtle about it. Sitting next to you at breakfast, standing way too close in the gym, brushing against your arm in the hallway. And every time, he’d send you these looks.

Like he was waiting.

Like he was daring you to bring it up.

It was infuriating.

By day three, you were at your breaking point.

“Why are you like this?!” you hissed at him in the common room, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

Bucky just smirked, sipping his coffee. “Like what?”

“Like this!” You threw your hands up. “Following me around, staring at me, teasing me—”

His grin widened. “I like teasin’ you.”

Your face burned. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You gasped. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I literally do.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you hated me, you wouldn’t have been moanin’ my name the other night.”

Your soul left your body.

Natasha—who had been minding her own business on the couch—choked on her drink.

You turned bright red, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I—you—Nat, I—”

Nat raised her hands. “Nope. Nope, I don’t wanna know. I don’t wanna know.” She stood, grabbing her coffee. “I’m just gonna leave you two to… whatever this is.”

You watched in horror as she walked out, giving you a knowing smirk before disappearing down the hall.

You turned back to Bucky, who looked way too pleased with himself.

“You’re evil,” you whispered.

He took another sip of coffee, completely unfazed. “And yet, you still thought about me.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “I hate you.”

Bucky chuckled.

And then, to your absolute horror—he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Liar.”

You were going to die.

Not in battle, not on a mission—no, you were going to combust from sheer humiliation.

Bucky’s lips barely brushed your ear, but it was enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine. The heat of him, the teasing rasp in his voice—it was too much.

You launched yourself backward, nearly knocking over the coffee table in your attempt to put space between you.

“I hate you so much,” you hissed, face on fire.

Bucky just smirked, completely at ease. “You keep sayin’ that, sweetheart, but your body’s tellin’ me something real different.”

Your mouth dropped open in pure horror. “Oh my God—”

“Bucky, stop tormenting her,” Steve’s voice cut in as he entered the room, arms crossed.

You immediately snapped to attention. Steve.

Right. You were supposed to have a crush on Steve. Not his insufferably smug best friend who had somehow taken up permanent residence in your head and between your legs.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly. He glanced at Steve, then back at you.

You quickly looked away, cheeks still burning.

Steve sighed. “I don’t know what you did, but knock it off.”

Bucky raised his hands in mock innocence. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

Steve gave him a look before turning to you. “You okay?”

Your stomach twisted with guilt. Steve was being sweet, as always, but… his presence didn’t have the same effect on you anymore.

Not like Bucky.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

Steve studied you for a second, then nodded. “Alright. We’ve got training in ten. Don’t be late.”

With that, he left the room.

The moment he was gone, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you again. When you turned to glare at him, his smirk had disappeared—replaced with something… unreadable.

Something that made your heart stutter.

“You don’t look at him the way you look at me,” Bucky murmured.

Your breath caught.

You should have denied it. Should have told him he was wrong. Should have done something to wipe that knowing look off his stupidly attractive face.

But you didn’t.

Because he was right.

And you had no idea what to do about it.

—

You avoided Bucky for the rest of the day. Again.

This time, though, it wasn’t just out of embarrassment—it was because you were confused.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that Steve was the one you wanted. That he was your dream guy. That he was perfect.

And yet…

Why did Bucky’s voice send a thrill down your spine?

Why did his teasing make your pulse race?

Why did the idea of him pinning you against a wall make your knees weak?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door that night.

Almost.

You hesitated, then slowly opened it—only to find Bucky standing there, leaning against the frame.

Your heart skipped. “Bucky—”

“We need to talk.” His voice was different. No teasing, no smugness. Just serious. Low.

Your stomach flipped.

You hesitated, but stepped aside, letting him in.

He closed the door behind him, then turned to you, arms crossed. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

You swallowed hard. “Nothing’s going on.”

Bucky scoffed. “Bullshit.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Bucky, I don’t—”

“Is it Steve?”

You froze.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “You still want him?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

Because you didn’t know.

You had spent so long thinking you did. But now? After the other night? After Bucky had wormed his way into your head and stayed there?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

Bucky exhaled sharply. “I ain’t him,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I ain’t the golden boy. I ain’t gentle. I ain’t soft.” His eyes met yours, dark and intense. “But don’t pretend you don’t want me anyway.”

Your breath hitched.

The air crackled between you, thick with something neither of you wanted to name.

You could lie. You could tell him he was wrong. You could pretend that your body didn’t burn whenever he was near.

But instead, you whispered—

“…I don’t know what I want.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours. His metal fingers twitched at his side.

Then, after a long pause—he nodded.

“Figure it out,” he murmured, voice rough. “But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

And then, before you could even breathe, he turned and walked out—leaving you wrecked in the middle of your room.

You barely slept.

Bucky’s words replayed in your head over and over again.

“Figure it out. But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—like he knew you wanted him, like he was daring you to admit it—had left you restless.

And the worst part? He was right.

You didn’t want Steve. Not really. Maybe you had at one point, but now?

You wanted Bucky.

You wanted his teasing smirks, his sharp wit, his rough hands. You wanted the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to get under your skin.

You wanted him.

And you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

So, before you could second-guess yourself, you slipped out of bed and made your way to his room.

—

Bucky opened the door on the first knock, like he’d been waiting.

His eyes flickered over your face, searching. “Sweetheart—”

“I figured it out,” you blurted, pulse racing.

Bucky stilled.

You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I want you.”

Something shifted in his expression—his features darkening, his jaw tightening. His metal fingers curled around the doorframe.

“You sure?” His voice was low, rough.

“Yes.” No hesitation. No doubt.

For a second, he just looked at you, unreadable. Then, without another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you.

—

The next morning, you woke up tangled in Bucky’s sheets, his arm draped heavily over your waist.

Your entire body ached in the best way possible.

You blinked, your mind still hazy from the night before. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his voice had sounded against your ear—low, rough, possessive.

A flush crept up your neck.

You shifted slightly, and Bucky grumbled, tightening his grip around you. “Mm. Not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

Your heart flipped.

You bit your lip, hesitating. “So, um…”

Bucky cracked one eye open, smirking. “Yeah?”

You swallowed. “What… what does this mean?”

His smirk softened. He reached up, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “It means you’re mine.”

Your breath caught.

He tilted his head. “That a problem?”

You stared at him—at the cocky smirk, the warmth in his blue eyes, the certainty in his voice.

And, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel confused.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “No.”

Bucky grinned. “Good.”

Then he pulled you back down, pressing his lips to yours—like he had no intention of letting you go.

[ultravi0lence14]

HIGH TIDE

DEAN WINCHESTER X MERMAID!READER

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, reader being a baddie

SUMMARY: back at the bunker, sam and dean learn that their fishy friend is more well versed than they assumed.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

the sound of a whirling air conditioner and freezing cold air was the first thing you felt when you woke up. you were more than groggy; more or less feeling like you’d been hit by a bus none the less.

everything was a blur. you remembered saving that kid, watching as that man stared at you from his place in the ocean, but you couldn’t pin point what happened afterward. it was all blurs of pain, anguish, and a weird comfort followed by the feeling of smooth leather under your skin.

your eyes had yet to peel open, the throws of darkness keeping you company as you laid limp on a cold surface. as your senses started to come back, you could faintly hear voices arguing; two, to be exact.

“what are we going to do with her?” voice number one asked, voice lilted in that of slight anger. “we’ve never dealt with a problem like this before.”

“i don’t know, dean,” voice number two said, addressing voice number one as dean. “i’ve been researching the best i can, and nothing is coming up about mermaids losing their ‘magic’ or whatever you want to call it.”

dean, what a beautiful name — wait. losing magic?

at the exact time when the second voices words registered in your head, you felt yourself try and flap your tail. all that resulted was you smacking your leg against the table and searing pain to shoot up your body.

“ow.” you groaned, peeling your eyes open and then throwing your arm over them when the bright lights blinded you. you were so confused. yet slowly, everything was coming back to you in pieces.

the pain in your tail. the sea urchin attacking you. the words these two strangers were spewing. your magic had been ripped away from you, making you a mermaid no longer.

everything you’ve ever known had been ripped away from you. the liberation of the sea, your fishy friends. you didn’t have a family, not remembering ever having one, but the feeling of being torn away from your only home made salty tears leak from your eyes.

somehow, the salt from your sadness brought a semblance of comfort. a reminder of home.

“oh jesus. is she crying?” the voice that you recognized as dean had tore through your reins of sadness and made you slowly peel your arm away from your face. “sam, what the fuck do we do with a crying mermaid?”

not being able to lie to yourself, you couldn’t help but admire the attractive man standing above you. with wild green eyes, and golden skin like that of a sun god, you couldn’t help but stare at his stubbly jaw and attractive features as who you assumed to be sam also leaned over you.

his hair haloed around his face, and you wondered if these two were related from the similarities they bore.

“why are you crying?” sam asked, shifting an arm around your back as you tried to rise on your elbows into a sitting position.

“we’re not going to hurt you, i swear.” sam’s words did nothing to calm your racing heart, and you couldn’t help but glower at the man has he helped you sit at the edge of a wooden table.

“i’m crying because i just got my home and birthright ripped away from me jackass, not because i think you’re going to hurt me.” your words had sam’s eyebrows shooting up, and a snort leaving dean’s lips.

“i like her, sammy, she’s got spunk.” dean smirked over at you, and you couldn’t help but turn your cold glare onto him. pointing a finger at you, dean gave an incredulous look in your direction as he spoke with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “don’t go all ursula on me, princess, i’m the one who saved you from being six feet under.”

a small shred of gratitude shone through your chest at his statement. for if it wasn’t for him, you’d be dead.

though you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at him, jutting your chin in sam’s direction as you spoke to his companion. “thanks, i guess. but could you tell your friend over there to stop asking stupid questions like a total seaweed brain? i’m trying to grasp onto everything that just happened.”

with his hands in the air, sam took a step back from you and watched nervously as you kicked your feet back and forth, an expression of interest on your face. the flannel around your shoulders and the pair of boxer shorts on your hips had you staring in confusion, yet you decided not to dwell on one of these two changing you and focus on your new found legs.

you always had a tail, never becoming accustomed to legs in general. this was all new to you, and you realized then that you would need these two dopes help if you wanted to make it in the real world.

sighing, you scrubbed a hand down your face before turning to both of the men in front of you. “so sam and dean. . .”

“winchester,” sam replied, crossing his arms over his chest when he assumed you didn’t want to throttle him anymore. “we’re brothers.”

“thought so,” you shrugged, grimacing at the ugliness of the brown coloured shirt on your shoulders. “anyway, i’m very grateful that you two saved me, yet i can’t help but assume i’m not going to be turning back into a mermaid anytime soon. correct?”

sam sheepishly nodded, and dean couldn’t help but marvel at the pair of balls this assumedly innocent mermaid had on her.

“so, i thought maybe you two could help me.” your words left no room for questions, and dean couldn’t help but quirk a brow at your somewhat ridiculous statement.”

“help you?” he inquired, scratching at the stubble on his jaw as he stared at you with a smirk on his face. “i saved you from becoming sea food, isn’t that good enough?”

shrugging, you started combing your fingers through your hair. “in my books, no.” dean’s eyebrows shot up, and you held out a finger to him when he opened his mouth to speak. “i just need a bit of help getting on my feet; literally.” dean smirked at your joke, and you found it fair enough to continue.

“we could work together. maybe find something that could turn me back into a mermaid, maybe not. either way, help me become human for the time being, and i’ll try not to be annoying. deal?”

you spoke to the two brothers like you were making a gang negotiation, and both sam and dean wondered where you got this type of personality from living under the water all your life.

“i know what you’re thinking, and to answer your question, i am a very perceptive person. i see how you humans act and i create my own personality.” nudging sam’s knee with your foot, you grinned at the two men. “how am i doing so far?”

dean smirked at you, eyes racking up and down your frame as he watched you try and get down from the library table. “you’ve got yourself a deal, princess.” arm shooting out as you stumbled on your new found feet, dean steadied you into his chest so you wouldn’t completely fall on your ass. “first thing: try not to fall and break your neck before we could start though.”

“shut up.” you groaned, hands clutching dean’s shoulders as you stared into his sea foam eyes. “now, the first thing i want to deal with is this hideous thing you call clothes.”

“hey!” sam protested, speaking up for the first time in a couple of minutes. “that’s mine!”

“yeah, and it’s ugly.” you shot back, making dean snort and sam to drop his mouth like a gaping fish. “you guys got any dresses? i always saw the pretty girls on the beach wearing them.”

dean made eye contact with sam, silently giving each other an ‘oh dear lord’ look as dean slung his arm over your shoulder and helped you sit down in one of the library chairs.

‘yeah,’ dean thought, rubbing his brow slowly. ‘this is going to be a handful.’

TAGS: @starzify @whisperingdaze @titsout4jackles @daylighted @deansbeer @bluemerakis @gibson-g1rl @deanangel @sunsbaby @haunteres @honeyryewhiskey @florchids @figthoughts @misatxox @a-lil-pr1ncess @flow33didontsmoke @ilovedeanwinchester4 @whump-loverz @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @djudy99 @ryngzmn

NAT BABBLES: i wanted to make our girl whimsical but also a total princess and slight pain in the ass to both sam and dean (mostly dean)

[goatgoesmbe]

Just saw this shorts about military callsign.

(i got this post from google so idk the post link sorry)

So.. im gonna come up with some HC about Taskforce 141 callsign

Soap

He got his name because of his accuracy in room clearance and urban warfare.

Or at least that's what he told people when they asked.

When actually- he got that nickname because that one time in communal shower, he purposefully dropped his soap to make the 'oh no i dropped my soap' joke- only to accidentally slip on it and fall so hard that he bleed everywhere.

You know that scar on his chin?

Gaz

Yeah, it's from that.

It's just short for Garrick- he said.

But also

Big fart.

Yeah, that's it.

One time during an important briefing in a hideout (a quite small place with low air flow) he let out the most disgusting wet fart. And everyone had to just endure it, coz the area outside was monitored by enemies.

Idk, the mre he ate spoiled or smtn

Ghost

Now, his name sounded badass, and from his appearance alone, it makes sense.

It is due to his exceptional covert prowess. The name encapsulates his stealthy demeanor and enigmatic presence.

Sounds cool, right?

Well.. it's not wrong-, he got it because he had a habit of using the toilet in the dark, and didn't even bother to lock it. (I actually do this)

Some recruit walked in, only to see his massive silhouette, sitting on the toilet, staring back at him as a small splash of water was heard when his massive shit got out.

poor fella scream bloody murder as they ran, thinking that he's some kind of ghost that haunted the base toilet. (And yes, similiar thing happened to me once, its a long story)

Price

...

Well- that's just his name so-

Or perhaps he unfortunately never had something embarrassing happened to him (that everyone knows anyway) and the guys are just waiting for the time for it to happen

Should i do one with Kortac

[scorpioriesling]

OML so good things come it groups of three has had me in a headlock and I don’t want to escape. I have trieddddddd so very hard to find scraps of smth like it and I found nothing😔. So here I am wondering if we the people can get another Liam/Ridoc/Bodhi (or another combination of fw guys if ur feeling silly) x Reader PLEASE 🙏. If you wanna make it a part two or a whole new thing idc Ill eat whatever you give me your writing is AMAZING.

-🎀Anon

Good Things Come in Groups of Three (Round 2)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x Ridoc x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, smut

Summary: Studying in the library late at night has your mind wandering… you can blame it on the time of night, the lack of sleep, or simply being alone. Regardless of the excuse, you can’t seem to put those 3 boys out of your mind.

SR’s Note: Thank you for your patience, queen. (; I hope this part 2 measures up to your expectations!! Also, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have this group of 3 + reader involved once again!! It’s only a draft right now for Kinktober… so you definitely don’t want to miss out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your eyes roved over the text, trying to commit it to memory. Jesinia had done you a solid, pulling some of the best tomes for you to study before your test on Friday. Her expertise not only a scribe, but as your friend just might be what saved your grade.

If you could keep your mind from wandering, that is.

You'd caught yourself thinking, more than once, about the utterly insane predicament you'd found yourself in last week. It seemed that every time you turned a page in the textbook, images would race through your mind, each one as dirty as the last.

Liam fucking you in the shower.

Sitting atop Ridoc's face.

Bodhi's dick filling your throat.

...fuck.

You shake your head, the memory only sending more uncomfortable sensations to your core. This wasn't the time, nor the place -- nowhere, would ever be the time or place again. That was a one and done deal; one you'd be much too embarassed to repeat.

As your palms press into your eyes, you turn your attention to the wall clock, trying to make out the numbers it read.

11:57 pm.

Dammit, you hadn't wanted to be here this late. Perhaps all the reading and pouring over the material was good though, as you felt much more prepared for your upcoming exam. However, you'd failed to notice everyone emptying out of the library over the past few hours.

Your breath catches as you glance around, the dark silence of the hall sending a shiver down your spine. You were right, no one was here at this hour; it was simply you, and the stacks of books.

Book stacks you wouldn't mind being fucked against.

Okay, you really had to stop.

Glancing around once more, you slunk down into your chair a little lower, your fingers slowly leaving the table in favor of tracing along your leather pants. The pressure was getting unbearable, every moment of your past rendezvouz replaying in your mind as your panties grew wetter and wetter.

Ridoc's dick felt so good when he made you ride him.

You unzipped your leathers, your fingers slowly making their way underneath. A sigh escapes your lips as your fingertips brush your clothed clit, moving in small circles atop your panties.

Fuck... the sight of Liam jerking off to you too.

A soft whimper leaves your lips, your eyes widening into slits as you glance around one more time. You just had to make sure, certainly, that no one was in here.

Oh Gods... and Bodhi, spanking your ass-

"You do know this is a, public, space, don't you?"

Your eyes fly open, the figure standing just in the shadows of the nearby bookshelf causing your heart to race. Your hand flies from your pants as you shimmy in your chair, working to rezip.

"O-oh my Gods, uhm, oh my Gods-" you fumble, your vision blurred in embarassment as you stare down at your pants. Why wouldn't the damned zipper just fucking work, already?

Your breath hitches as a large, tanned hand moves atop yours. Your cheeks deepen in color, chest still rising and falling as the adrenaline courses through your veins.

"As your trainer," Bodhi says, his voice low. "I'd tell you to fix yourself, and send you to your dorm to finish this matter in private. Alone."

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting his darkened brown ones as he glares at you.

"But, as an interested party, I'm going to tell you to keep going."

You loose a shaky breath, his unforgiving stare a cross between anger and intrigue. You open your mouth to speak, but Bodhi's hand pushes your shoulder back against the back of the chair.

"Don't say a word, Y/N -- you got caught being a bad, bad girl." He tuts, leaning back to sit in the chair next to you. "Now, you answer to me."

You gulp, staying put as he stretches his legs out before him and gets comfortable, folding his muscled arms over his chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious!

"Keep going." He bites out, and you stare at him wide-eyed.

He scoffs. "What, now you can't hear, either? I said keep going." Your fingers fuddle with the waistband of your pants, shaking as you shove your leathers down to your knees.

"Mhm... play with that pussy, like the bad girl you fuckin' are."

Your fingers find your clit once more, the pleasure mounting in your core as Bodhi's eyes are glued to your every move. In an attempt to stifle your moan, your lip catches between your teeth, muffling the whimper. He's hovering over you in an instant, his hand braced against the back of your chair as his lips move mere inches from yours.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He taunts, and you glare up at him as a wave of defiance rushes through you.

"B-because... it's a.. library." You grit out, failing to think of any other comeback. He laughs, full and unabashedly as he shakes his head low, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"You didn't seem to care that this is a library when you started playing with your cunt, though." He draws in a breath, his gaze flickering between your underwear and your face. "Bad riders don't get rewarded, Y/N... they only get punished."

Your heart races as two more figures appear from the shadows, their hungry gazes trained on you and your minstrations. A small swallow in fear is all Bodhi needs before his hands grip at your waist, hauling you atop the table and sending the books scattering to the floor.

"B-Bodhi... what-"

"Ohh, don't act like this isn't what you wanted," Ridoc sneers from beside you. He leans casually against the bookshelf, the obvious tent in his pants indication that maybe he wanted this to happen too.

"Oh, she wanted it alright," Bodhi huffs, grabbing your pants and roughly yanking them down your legs. He shucks your boots off, tossing them over his shoulder before ripping your pants over your feet. "Caught her playing with herself all alone in here."

Liam tsks, flanking the other side of the table as he watches in faux-disappointment. Had they all arranged this? Had they known you'd be in here?

"I-I..."

"Keep your mouth shut," Bodhi demands, yanking his own pants down just enough for his enormous erection to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight; you'd forgotten how damn big he was.

"You're gonna work off this little violation, alright?" He chuckles, pulling you to the edge of the table so just your ass hung off the wood. His hand wraps around his cock, pumping it twice before sliding it against your soaking folds. You whimper, and he glares down at you.

"And... you'll be quiet if I say so, alright?" He chuckles, pressing the tip of his dick against your hole. "This is, after all, a library."

The sound threatening to erupt as he slides all the way in can only be described as nothing short of a deafening scream. He pushes himself all the way in, his pelvis flat against your thighs as you try and keep your noises at bay. Wasting no time, he yanks his cock out, only to slam back in with so much force that a small wail breaks free.

"Fuck... tight as fuck Y/N," he comments, speeding up as he fucks himself into you. "Squeezing my goddamned dick, baby."

You moan, the sound mixed with the creaking of the table beneath you. Bodhi's breaths come out in short pants above you, his gaze locked onto where his thick length is pounding into you.

"I... oh Gods," you cry out, your heaed turning to the side as you catch sight of Liam beside you. His tongue rakes across his bottom lip, his own cock hardening beneath his palm. The sight alone could make you cum, especially with the way Bodhi is pounding into you-

"Don't you dare cum," he growls, his hands bracing against your hips as he shoves you closer to him. Your gaze switches back to him as he leans over you, each stroke faster than the last as he barely pulls out anymore. "You're not cumming... not fucking yet."

You whimper as his mouth falls open above you, his eyes half-lidded as his thrusts grow sloppy. Your own impending orgasm has built up, threatening to burst any moment inside of you.

"B-Bodhi-"

"Fuck!' He shouts, your skin flush against his as his cock jumps, pumping his release inside of you. His breathing is heavy, his chest moving rapidly underneath the restraint of his zipped flight jacket. Your face twists in frustration, the heat in your lower tummy already receding as he yanks his cock out of you, a trail of clear semen following.

Sitting up on your hands, you only catch your breath for a minute before Liam saunters toward you, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His hands grip your knees, forcing your legs apart as you try and squeeze them together.

"You're not getting off that easy tonight -- I hope you've realized that."

You stare up at the gorgeous male; a dark, starved look crossing his features as he peers down at you. Your chest heaves as he slowly sits before you, only taking perch on the edge of the chair.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he leans forward, his lips mere inches from your glistening cunt -- and blows a stream of cool air across your skin. You clench around nothing, the sensation both extremely erotic and frustrating at the same time.

"Liam, please-"

"Ahh ahh," Bodhi tuts, leaning agaist a nearby table. "I said no mouthing off tonight, remember?"

Liam's dimple pops as he smiles, his handsome features only making you wish your cunt was pressed against his lips. You lie back down as he licks his lips once, his fingers softly trailing along the skin of your thighs. You whimper as he continues toying with you, barely able to keep your writhing at bay.

"Is this... what you want?" He says quietly, as his forefinger presses against your clit. You gasp, sitting up on your forearms to look down at his smug expression.

"Yes... oh Gods, please yes-" You grit out, as his digit slowly circles your clit. You squirm against the touch, wishing for more as he slides his finger around your sensitive bud.

"This isn't about you, though." He says, chuckling as he retracts his finger. He glances up at you before rising between your legs, his hands gripping your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. You gasp as your chest presses against the flat wood, and your stomach drops at the sight before you.

Ridoc stands on the other side of the table, his hand fisting his cock furiously as he gazes down at you.

"Open."

It's all you need to hear before widening your mouth, laying your tongue out flat just like he'd like it.

"Fuck... been waiting for this for damn near a week," he complains, slapping his length against your wet muscle. You squeak in pleasure as you feel Liam behind you, his fingers circling your pulsating opening.

"So wet, baby," he coos, as his ring and middle finger plunge into your aching pussy. He plunges them in, again and again-- the embarassing squelch of your vagina gripping his digits bringing a flush to your cheeks.

Ridoc's free hand caresses your chin, guiding his hard length to your awaiting mouth. You suck in a breath as he sinks his cock in, pushing it to the back of your throat as he groans. Gagging around him, he retracts, shoving back in moments later.

"Gods, Y/N -- you've been saving up for us, hm?" You hear the grin in Liam's voice, your cunt pulsating as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Unable to speak as Ridoc continues fucking your mouth, you only groan in response.

Liam curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against the sensitive spot inside -- you feel as though you'll explode. You huff out a breath, tears forming in your eyes as Ridoc continues assaulting your throat. The combined sensations are too much, your orgasm building with each minstration.

"It's a good thing you're so sexy," he laughs, patting you on the cheek with his free hand. "You've been on my mind all week, baby."

Liam retracts his fingers, and you cry out in frustration. Ridoc pulls out too, the emptiness on either end leaving you hot, bothered, and again, unreleased.

"Don't worry," Ridoc chuckles. "We still have more we want from you."

He appears on the opposite side of the table, standing where Liam just was, his open palm landing a harsh slap against the meat of your ass. You whine, only wishing he'd pleasure you more.

You don't have to beg much.

His hands clench around your hips, drawing you up onto your knees and forearms on the table. You wail again as he spanks you, clenching only when you feel his erection slapping against your cunt.

"You want me, huh?" He teases, landing another slap when you don't respond. "You want me to fuck you?"

You scream in pleasure, glancing behind you to watch as he slides his cock in.

"Yes, please Ridoc! Please fuck me-"

Your words are cut short as a hand wraps around your throat, yanking your head to look before you. Liam chuckles, his hands quickly finding your breast as he stands beside Bodhi -- who's guiding his cock to your lips.

"I told you," he grumbles. "Bad girls... have to be quiet."

He shoves his length in, choking you as he pushes down your throat. Liam pulls your hair, keeping your mouth in place as Bodhi fucks his dick down your raw throat. Ridoc pants from behind you, his girth reaching unimaginable depths inside your quaking pussy.

"You like that, huh?" Bodhi shakes his head, plunging his cock deeper in your mouth. "Like taking my cock while Ridoc fucks you?"

Another wave of pleasure racks your bones, the feeling of their dicks in two of your holes almost more than you can take. You gurgle around Bodhi's length as Ridoc's balls slap against your clit, heightening your senses even more.

"Can't... can't take much more," you garble out, and Liam's fingers pinch your nipple.

"You'll take, what we give you."

You squeak, tears threatening to spill over as you try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay. Your walls clench around Ridoc's big cock, each thrust pushing you closer, and closer...

He cums with a gasp, hot ropes of his release splattering across your ass. He heaves as he squeezes your right buttcheek, his spent cock resting against the other. Bodhi grits his teeth before releasing as well, his seed spraying down your throat. He yanks his cock out, and Liam moves to hold your jaw as you muster a cough.

"Swallow it all," he commands, and you do as your told. Bodhi retreats, resting lazily in a chair as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

If only you could feel the same.

You gulp down his salty-sweet taste, your muscles growing tired after your night of pleasure. Well... as much pleasure as you were allowed, orgasm-denial and all.

Liam pulls you off the table, holding you upright as he slowly backs you into one of the shadowed bookshelves. You groan again as he kneels before you, Bodhi and Ridoc flanking your either side.

"We've had our fun with you... do you think you deserve to cum?"

You nod your head at his sultry words, and he doesn't even look away from your glistening pussy as he speaks to the other two.

"Do you think she deserves to cum?"

Bodhi tuts while reaching for your chest, openly palming your left breast.

“I suppose she’s been quite good for us tonight.”

Liam nods in agreement, his lips pressing a single kiss against your folds. Your hips involuntarily buck in protest, a short moan coming out as Ridoc rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Shhhh.. patience, baby.”

His voice alone could get you off, such contrast to his usually irritating tone.

Liam’s tongue flicks out, swiping across your cunt as he rolls his thumb over your clit. You squirm, your breaths coming out in quick bursts.

“L-Liam I… won’t last long-“

He chuckles, the vibration edging you further. Ridoc replaces his fingers with his mouth, leaning in to suck and mark your right breast with his teeth. You lean your head back against the shelves, the feeling of ecstasy finally within reach.

“You wanna cum, Y/N?” Bodhi’s breath skates across your skin, goosebumps arising just below your ear as he squeezes your breast partially hard.

“Such a little tease with these gorgeous things,” he continues, and you begin shaking, the feeling of the orgasm within reach.

“Oh FUCK, I’m-“

Ridoc’s hand claps over your mouth as Bodhi holds you upright. You tremble and shake atop Liam’s tongue, the pent up energy from all night finally reaching its sweet release. Liam’s hands reach around and squeeze your ass, holding you in place as you cum on his lips.

“Anybody in here?”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat quickening as you hear the male guard’s voice ring out through the otherwise empty library. Your eyes meet Bodhi’s, and he holds a single finger to his lips. Shh.

“Hello?”

The voice calls again, and the three of you stand in silence against the darkness from the shelves. After a few minutes, the entry door opens and closes once more, and you finally release a breath.

“Well… that was close,” you laugh, the first real sentence you’d uttered in hours. Surely the sunlight would be peeking through the windows anytime now…

You step toward your discarded clothes, making to grab them and put them on when a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against a very bare, very toned chest.

“Oh come on — you didn’t think we were actually finished here, did you?”

[coffeeprincessstuff]

A casual date ft. Gojo Satoru

The first time Gojo Satoru walked into the café you work at, you didn’t think much of him.

Sure, he was tall. And ridiculously good-looking. And way too confident for someone ordering the sweetest, most sugar-loaded drink on the menu.

But beyond that? He was just another customer.

Then he kept coming back.

Every few days, like clockwork, he strolled in—always in dark sunglasses, always with that smug grin, always ordering something absurdly sweet. At first, you thought he just really liked the drinks. But then you started noticing things.

Like how he always showed up when your shift started.

Or how he lingered at the counter, trying to make conversation with you when the café was empty.

Or how he never seemed in a rush to leave, even when he had his order in hand.

“You know, for someone who supposedly has the most important “secret” job ever, you have way too much free time,” you remarked one evening, sliding his usual drink across the counter.

Gojo grinned, tapping the side of his cup. “You don’t know that. Maybe I’m incredibly busy, but I make time for the things that matter.”

“Right, and that ‘thing’ just happens to be overpriced matcha lattes full of whipped cream?”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a small smile.

Gojo watched you for a beat, then suddenly said, “Hey, you free tonight?”

You paused and turned back to him, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why?”

“Wow, so suspicious! If you’re free, lets go out.” he said.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and said, “Wait. Are you asking me on a date?”

Gojo smirked, not even missing a beat. “I mean, can’t I ask my favorite barista out on a date?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m your only barista here. You literally ignore everyone else who tries to take your order.”

“That’s because they don’t make my drinks with the same love,” he said, smirking.

You gave him a flat look. “Love? Babe, I don’t even know you that well.”

“Tragic. But I can change that. One date. Just humor me.”

You sighed, staring at him for a long moment. “Fine. But only because I’m tired of you hitting on me at my work.”

Gojo beamed, grabbing his drink. “Oh, this is gonna be so fun. I know just the place. Meet me after your shift.”

—————————————————————————

You should’ve known Gojo’s idea of “just the place” wouldn’t be a normal restaurant.

Instead, he took you to a quiet little food stall in an alleyway—a small, cozy spot lit by dim lanterns, with rickety stools and the scent of freshly grilled food filling the air.

Honestly? You kind of loved it.

“Didn’t expect this, huh?” Gojo grinned as he plopped down across from you.

“Not at all. I thought you’d drag me somewhere flashy.”

“Please. That’d be too predictable,” he said, leaning back. “Besides, Yakitori here’s amazing.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

The two of you ordered a ridiculous amount of food, and Gojo—unsurprisingly—had zero shame about eating half of it in record time.

“You eat like you’re in a competition,” you remarked, watching as he popped another skewer into his mouth.

He grinned. “What! can’t handle a guy with a big appetite?”

You smirked. “I can handle a lot of things.”

Gojo paused, then let out a low whistle. “Oh? Now that’s interesting.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, I don’t think you actually care about dating.”

Gojo blinked, then tilted his head, amusement flickering in his expression. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re good at this. Too good. But I don’t think you’re actually trying.”

For a second—just a second—the teasing glint in his eyes dimmed.

Then, he laughed, shaking his head. “Ouch. And here I thought I was being charming.”

“You are charming,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “But I don’t think you let people get too close to you.”

Gojo exhaled dramatically, resting his chin on one hand. “And here I thought this was a date, not a therapy session.”

You didn’t say anything. Just waited. And maybe that was what caught him off guard.

Because for the first time all night, his smile wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t the usual performance he put on for the world.

It was just there. Small, thoughtful. And real.

“You might be more fun than I expected,” he said, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

You chuckled and said, “I’m a complete package if you just removed your sunglasses and looked a little bit closer.”

Gojo smirked and said, “Careful, or I might actually start liking you.”

You smirked. “You say that like you haven’t already.”

Gojo chuckled, “Damn. You are good.”

And for the first time in a while you felt like it has been a nice date night.