#‘If you do good you are good’ but also doing good means taking responsibility for everything you’ve done

[sage-nebula]

In my personal opinion, all three of these have a high probability of backfiring. They assume that the person you're interacting with knows your intention, and/or is interacting in good faith, but on the chance that isn't true (and there is a good chance there isn't), all this will do is escalate the situation and make it worse.

To explain in detail:

"Are you okay?" — This comes across as incredibly passive-aggressive and patronizing if it's said in response to someone who is, by all appearances, in fine health. Particularly if the person you're speaking with is already in a hostile mood, they won't read this as concern, but rather as mockery, and it WILL further escalate the situation. Further, the HR representative has every opportunity here to put their own feelings into what you meant: did you have genuine reason to believe your coworker was in distress? Or were you passive-aggressively insinuating you believed they were deranged? Because the coworker believes the latter and that's why they reported you (after yelling even more in response to you passive-aggressively calling them crazy).

"Could you repeat that for me?" / "Can you explain what you mean?" — Playing dumb can work if, and only if, the coworker is genuinely not an asshole. However, some people are. And these people will see these questions and repeat / explain themselves in an even more condescending, insulting way: slowed down speech, over-enunciated sounds, little words. Now, you could get them with HR even harder for this, but you're taking a hit first.

So, what should you say instead? Here is your step-by-step guide.

Step 1: Acknowledge Their Issue — This is NOT the same as apologizing. If you genuinely did something wrong, by all means, but if you didn't, don't claim responsibility for something you didn't do! Here is a good stock response: "I understand where you're coming from, and see how that would be frustrating."

This acknowledges their feelings, which is an important step in deescalation. Even assholes often just want to be heard and validated. However, we are not done. IF the asshole doesn't deflate after having their feelings soothed, you'll need to move onto Step 2. (You can also lead right into Step 2 if this is all through email or Teams.)

Step 2: State Need for Professionalism — In this step you both stand up for yourself, and make it explicitly clear what your intentions are, in a way that cannot be misconstrued. Here is a stock phrase: "I feel that this conversation has become a bit heated. I ask that we remain polite and professional for the remainder of this discussion."

Using "I feel" language removes any chance that the coworker can say you accused them of anything. You aren't insinuating that they're crazy or anything like that, but rather just saying that your perception is that this conversation is heated. You are also asking for polite professionalism, which is an expectation of the workplace, but in such a way that it CANNOT be twisted into an accusation (but that YOU know is commentary on your coworker, and your coworker will understand as well, without being able to use it against you).

But we're still not done! If they continue to bluster and storm, Step 3 has got you.

Step 3: End the Convo, Involve Higher-Up — In this step you both disengage the rude coworker, and cover your ass (CYA). Here is a stock phrase: "Apologies, but I do not feel that continuing this conversation will be productive for either of us. I will see if we can resume this conversation with [manager / HR] present. Good day."

Saying that you don't feel the conversation is productive communicates the message that they are not communicating effectively, but once again in a way that cannot be twisted into an attack on their person. Furthermore, "productive" carries the connotation that YOU are interested in working with this person, which will look good to whichever higher-up you involve next.

Because at this point, you DO need to involve one. This is to CYA. Controlling the narrative is crucial in workplace disputes and that means being the first to report the situation. Pick whoever is most appropriate; if you and the coworker share a manager, you can go there. If not, HR would be the better bet. Even if you share a manager, you can still go to HR if you trust them more. It's up to you.

If this confrontation took place in person, walk away after saying this and go to either manager / HR to explain the situation. If the coworker tries to stop you, just repeat that you don't feel the conversation is productive and request that they move out of your way. Such a thing will attract attention, so it's important you seem as reasonable as possible while they make themselves look worse.

If this confrontation took place over email, immediately forward with an explanation of what they will be looking at. Here is a good template:

"Hi [Manager / HR name],

I wanted to bring to your attention a conversation [Coworker] and I just had, in case it has potential for further issues to arise. The conversation was initially about [situation], however, I feel that [Coworker]'s language was disrespectful and not conducive to a working relationship. I would appreciate it if you would review the situation and speak to [Coworker] on my behalf, since I do not wish for this incident to escalate further. Every email between [Coworker] and myself is included in the chain below.

Thank you,

[Your Name]"

This template accomplishes several things:

It alerts the manager / HR person to the fact that there is an issue.

Provides context as to why the issue happened.

Does not seem accusatory toward the coworker; accusations will work against you 9 times out of 10.

Places emphasis on wanting to maintain professionalism and productivity, which are things both managers and HR people also want.

Asks M / HR to take over the situation.

Provides the full conversation (i.e. the RECEIPTS) so they can see what went down.

By this point you might be thinking, "These sound like robot responses! Why do I need to include lines about professionalism and productivity? Why do I need to weasel around accusations?"

The reason to all of these is: this is how you both play and win the game. You're not in this to dunk on your rude coworker; you're in it to shut them down. And the way to do that is to be clear, specific, and get / keep management and HR on your side. That means getting to them first, and keeping yourself sounding reasonable in contrast to your asshole coworker. Stating intentions clearly means your words can't be used against you; using words like professionalism and productivity will make M / HR believe you really care about this workplace.

This is how you win. Trust me. (Source: Master's in communications management, mid-level managerial experience, and over a decade of experience deescalating and dealing with assholes in the workplace.)

Tips and ideas for how to respond when someone is being rude to you

For personal reasons I won't get into, I have a history of just freezing when some is rude / hostile / aggressive / condescending / patronizing / etc. It's obviously not something I'm happy about at all, most people who freeze or fawn aren't happy about it and would change it if they could.

One day I confided in my co-worker, a middle aged woman in her 50's, that this is something I struggle with. Considering how confident and assertive she always struck me as, I was shocked when she told me this is also something she's struggled with.

The advice she gave me is to just memorize and practice a few broad statements or reactions that you can pull out of your pocket so to speak when someone is being rude or disrespectful to you. It's not easy if you're someone who's been conditioned to freeze or fawn, but practice helps. Practice saying these things when you're alone. Put up a sticky note next to your bed or on your bathroom mirror with these phrases and practice them when you see them. Practice saying these with a partner or trusted friend, role-play scenarios where you might need to use these phrases.

Here's a few phrases that have worked for me. The nice thing about them is that they tend to shut down the situation rather than escalating, while still letting the aggressor know that you don't find their behavior acceptable.

"Are you okay?"

This works well in professional settings, because it's not like your work place's residential bully can run to HR about you asking if they're okay (but they might if you try to retaliate and give them a taste of their own medicine). However, it still effectively sends the message "I think there's something wrong with your behavior and don't accept it". It's also not likely the response they're expecting, so it'll likely throw them off and prevent further verbal aggression.

"Could you repeat that for me? I didn't catch what you said."

This one is most effective for people you believe to actually have a conscious and might regret what they said if they actually thought about it a little more. I find that often when I do this one, when people repeat the rude/snippy/patronizing/etc thing they either shamefully stumble over their words and show some remorse, or they change altogether what they say. In the off chance they don't regret what they said and end up repeating exactly what they said, this at least buys you some time to think of a better reaction since you're no longer caught off guard by a sudden rude and snippy remark.

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Similar logic to the last one. Often when people are being rude/snippy/patronizing/etc they're caught up in their own emotions in that moment and didn't think it through. This is a polite and civil way of putting their rude behavior in the spotlight and making them reconsider what they said. The other advantage to this one is that in case you did misread their intentions and they meant no harm by what they said or did, this gives them an opportunity to clarify that, instead of you just feeling bad over a statement or actions they actually had no ill intentions with.

If anyone has any further examples of reactions / responses / statements that have worked for them, I'd love to hear about them. I'm new to studying the art of how to civilly yet effectively shut down bad behavior from others, so I'm always open to hearing more suggestions.

[dollarbils]

don’t wanna be your fan | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when your favourite fan suggests featuring in one of your videos, you reevaluate her position in your life.

warnings. smut, strap, oral, mommy kink, degrading?, ofstar!reader (very inaccurate only fans portrayal). also not proofread!

part 1 masterlist

when she’d first brought up the idea you were hesitant to say the least. she was kind, sweet and hot, but you hadn’t ruled out serial killer just yet. having her feature in a video would be great for your page since lesbian sex is climbing up the ranks, and seems to be the majority of your following. but you were hesitant, more that hesitant.

“Billie, it’s a good idea but i just don’t know if it would work out.” she huffed, on the other side of the phone, her frustration apparent.

“why not? are you scared?” she taunted you, but truthfully you were.

“it’s not that, what if my other fans think they have a shot and start harassing me?” a bullshit excuse and you knew it, but you felt like you owed it to yourself to be wary of the suggestion.

“they won’t know i’m a fan.” she paused for a second, and you could hear her breaths through the phone speaker. “besides, i’m your favorite fan right? i think i deserve it don’t you?” those words made you smile, imagining her smug little smile on the other side of the phone.

“okay.” she went silent, as if hoping you’d repeat yourself.

“wait, okay?” she asked.

“don’t make me second guess my decision. be at the hotel by 9pm or im locking my door. i’ll send the details.” she agreed quickly and you hung up, holding your head in your hands while you ran through the previous conversation to look for any red flags.

-

“i mean honestly, ask a girl to dinner before filming a sex tape with her.” she rolled her eyes, smiling softly as you positioned the camera.

“is it recording?” she asked, biting her lip when you approached her.

“mhm.” she was cautious with putting her hands on your hips, this having been the first time she’d intentionally touched you, the other, being when she’s brushed past you when you’d opened the door.

“give them a show, baby.” she tugged on your shirt, clarifying what she meant but letting you take it off. you were stood in front of her, your back to the camera while she remained sitting, letting her hands drift to your clothed ass as you slowly peeled off your shirt. once it had been discarded to the side, your jeans followed shortly after, leaving you in your underwear.

“all for me?” she teased, commenting on the matching set as you turned towards the camera. she pulled you down onto her lap and pulled your hair back so that she could attach her lips to your neck. and when she did, she didn’t make an attempt to be gentle.

“mm.” you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her bruising your skin, sucking and licking as you whimpered. subconsciously you began to grind your heat against her thigh, the thin fabric of your thong doing nothing to mask the harsh material of her jeans.

“so needy.” she whispered, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up though, and a whine followed.

“fuck.” she exhaled, before lifting you up, and placing you on the bed. she took her shirt off and hovered over you for a second, giving you the perfect view of her tits, moments from spilling out of her tight bra.

“like what you see?” you nodded, reaching behind her back to undo it before she halted your actions.

“not yet, give me a real answer.” her tone asserted a kind of dominance you weren’t used to. annoyingly easy to comply with.

“yes.” she wasn’t completely satisfied but gave way regardless. when she lowered herself onto you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans, shutting your eyes momentarily as she pressed herself against you.

“tell me what you want, babygirl.” she smirked, pulling your chin to face her while she waited for a response.

“i want it raw.” you weren’t hesitant to voice what you wanted and it turned her on.

“ask nicely, baby.” she teased and your rolled your eyes.

“fuck. me. please.” she smiled, but contemplated it for a second, her hands running up and down your naked body, doing everything to distract you from the conversation.

“do you deserve it?” she asked, the same teasing tone lacing her words.

“yes.” she chuckled at the confidence in your voice.

“and what makes you think that? you’re a little slut after all, aren’t you?” that made you go silent, the truth to her words making it difficult to counter.

“well? are you?” her hand was squeezing your chin again, forcing an answer out of you.

“yes.” it was said with resistance but still satisfied her. she slapped the side of your ass, eliciting a small jump.

“on your knees.” she ordered, letting your imagination complete the request. and when you were on your knees, in front of her, she gave no further instructions.

“go on, show me how much of a slut you are. and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” she shrugged, taking a sort of nonchalant stance as she waited for you to unbutton her jeans. when you pulled them down to reveal her strap, your eyes widened slightly at the sheer size.

“come on, you can take it.” she’s noticed the uncertainty in your expression. but when you took the tip in your mouth, and then finally the rest, she bunched up your hair and pushed you closer to her, the tip hitting the back of your throat. you gagged multiple times, your eyes going glossy and your pussy even wetter as you clenched on nothing, moaning around her strap.

“fuck, what a whore, huh?” you nodded quickly, doing almost anything to please her while she pulled on your hair, harshly, revealing the entire strap until she pushed it past your lips again, your saliva coating the base as you whined and cried. your muffled noises turning her on and she rested her head back, closing her eyes.

“that’s right, take it like a good girl.” her voice was sultry, and so seductive you could swear you were leaking from your heat. and when she was done with you sucking her strap, you thought your mouth would bruise. when she pulled it out of your mouth your saliva made it glisten in the dim lighting. the tears on your cheeks and drool on your chin was a sight for sore eyes and the camera had long been forgotten.

“was that slutty enough for you?” she narrowed her eyes when you stood up.

“watch your mouth, princess.” she threatened, moving to grasp your hips and push you onto the bed.

“i think i gotta show off that pretty ass of yours no?” she smirked, getting on top of you once she’d urged you to turn around. you used your elbows to prop yourself up as she unclasped your bra, letting your tits spill as her hands came to feel them up. your legs were spread wide and her knee came up to your heat, pressing lightly against your panties.

“billie, please.” the desperation in your words were pathetic, playing further into her ego.

“patience, sweet girl.” she let her hands wander down your body before resting, just below your waist, her fingers biting into your hips. you fought the urge to turn your head back, to see what she was doing, but all thoughts were silenced when you felt her silicone tip prodding at your entrance.

“you’re soaking, bet i could just slide into that tight little hole of yours.” the harsher she pressed the tip against your pussy, the filthier her words got, as if the teasing hadn’t been enough already. she knew what she was doing.

“please just do something!” you whined, and she contemplated making you beg for it.

“do what? i’m going to need you to specify, babe.” you could imagine her smirk, and you almost dropped your head in frustration.

“please fuck me.” she sighed in content of your response.

“well, since you said please.” and she was pushing her entire length into you, before she’d finished the sentence, disrupted by a moan.

“fuck.” your elbows gave out and you were gripping the sheets already, feeling her push herself further into you.

“so ready for me, i swear i can feel you clenching, pretty.” she didn’t really give you time to adjust before she started thrusting, agonisingly slow at first.

“billie.” your whines only fuelled her, but she responded with a light slap to you ass.

“try again.” she tutted, halting her movements for a moment.

“mommy? please?” she groaned in satisfaction before continuing her motions.

“that’s right, baby.” it didn’t take long for her actions to turn harsh and messy, your moans and whimpers making her feral.

“ y’like getting fucked like this? like a fuckin’ slut?” she grasped your hips pulling them towards her with every thrust, as you arched your back, pushing your ass against her lower abdomen.

“mhm.” your moans we’re muffled by the pillow you’d hurried your face into. but that response obviously didn’t satisfy her. she fisted you hair again, pulling your head away from the pillow so that you could answer her.

“i need an answer, babe.” she pulled out of you completely, leaving you clenching uncontrollably.

“yes.” your mouth was running dry, your breaths still staggered.

“yes what?” she was unbelievably persistent. she wouldn’t be able to get away with it if she wasn’t that fucking hot.

“yes mommy.” she let you fall with a small bounce when you landed, and she was back to abusing your pussy.

“all your other fans can’t compare can they?” you felt the pressure in your lower stomach building, as she filled you up with her strap.

“no.” you shook your head, unaware of your words and actions, only focusing on the feeling of her inside of you.

“tell me i’m more than a fan.” the camera was so long forgotten you spewed out words of agreement.

“you’re so much more.” your hands were roaming the sheets for some kind of solace as you felt your high approaching.

“are you gonna cum on my dick then? make a mess?” when you nodded, she moved her hand to your clit, pinching it with two of her fingers, before continuing to toy with it.

“fuck.” you could barely feel your legs as her thrusts became quicker but sloppy. and when her hands came to spread your legs wider, she hit deeper spots than you could’ve imagined, and you were releasing all other her strap.

“holy fuck.” she gasped, your heat, empty and aching when she pulled out.

“fuck that was insane.” your turned around, facing her, and she almost collapsed on your body.

“yeah?” the metal on her teeth glistened through her smirk.

“mhm” you confirmed, and she came down to kiss you, no hesitation in the matter whatsoever.

“i think i’ve earned the ‘more than a fan’ title, right?” you laughed, a smile forming on her lips when she heard it.

“yeah, you definitely did.” she pecked your lips again before she spoke.

“perfect, i don’t wanna be your fan anymore.”

request (kinda)

taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes

[kaivenom]

Since February 9th is my birthday I got an idea, how about what one piece dilfs do on your birthday?

What the OP Dilfs do on your birthday

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: oowwwww, happy birthdayyyy, i am so glad that you asked me for this.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He prefers a rather small event, just him and you, maybe Perona and even Zoro if he can.

But if you want a party with other people, then he would try to tolerate other peoples presence.

Picture this: the backyard of your families house, all with balloons, food and all your relatives from all ages.

Then Mihawk with a glass of wine having to stand children and annoying aunts.

When you didn't found him anywhere, you searched for him and found him with your grandma (or another old female relative) gossiping.

When you left the house and finally are alone, he finally gave you your gift... probably jewelry.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't make it an official holiday but every one takes it like that cause there is a parade all over the city.

Like a Valentine's day 2.0

Privately he does a big feast on the castle and it's the only time you got to sit on the throne (and not his lap).

Like he says "You are the queen for the day"

He even orders some people to do humilliating things to make you laugh, but you have to stop him and reassure him that you just need to be with him on the moment.

Every one of the crew was invited to the party which means that Doflamingo ordered them the exact gift they have to get you, so you can have everything you want.

Baby 5 told you his plan so you went to thank him for the party and for being so sweet and lovely, at least for your special day.

Sr. Crocodile

A surprise trip, to anywhere you want like... you woke up and he asked you were you wanted to go, you said and hours later there you are.

You went to all the sites you wanted and he even ordered some fireworks for midnight.

He reserved on your favourite restaurant and he even "asked" (he literally threatened their families) to do your favourite cake.

Of course, all the things you've been wanting since christmas, he got them from you.

In the case the trip couldn't be made cause you already had plans with friends and family, expect him to celebrate before you go and wait for you to continue celebrating.

He understands that you can share your time with other people and he won't interfere but he absolutely would use all the other time you had.

Quality time and gifts are his love language so expect that a lot.

Smoker

You both go a day out at work for personal affairs.

He mades you breakfast and put it on the bed, this day, you are the only thing on his life.

You do everything you want this day: a picnic? done, a fancy restaurant? movies and popcorn?

All of it? also yes.

He even tries to cook himself a birthday cake but the attend gets so bad that you had to help him.

He is reticent about it but when you suggested him that this is the perfect couple birthday activity, he accepted.

The ussual movie flour fight type of thing, but you ended up doing the dessert and you finally made your wish.

But there is no better wish than to have spent the day with him.

Akagami Shanks

You are free from all your responsabilities on the ship.

You are the first to be served on lunch and everyone left you alone to be at peace.

More than that the day went awfully normal, even with Shanks, you started to even feel crazy cause nobody even said "good birthday" but they clearly know due to their behaviour.

Then Shanks ordered to arrive on an island without warning, was almost night so you decided to go to your room, a little sad about the day.

So, half an hour later, Shanks lifted you up and forced you outside, to the night, and you saw how they had prepared a surprise party.

You almost slapped all of them for the secretism but you know you have a soft spot for these idiots.

Food, alcohol and cake passed among everyone and lasted all night.

Shanks took the moment when they all were drunk to be more affectionate and attentive with you, showing you how much love he was acumulating all day for the brithday girl

[megapteraurelia]

kuroo tetsurou and you did not have lots of interactions, usually.

so you were more than surprised when he turned to you during chemistry class and looked at you through the tuft of black hair falling into his eyes and let out a string of words that seemingly made no sense to you. his gaze cast away, a certain air of embarrassment hanging in the air when you didn’t answer, and he turned away, mumbling to himself.

“wait, did you just compare me to acid?”

“no, not acid— more like…the reaction is just so explosive, like us—  i mean, just us as in people, or like—” he breathed out carefully, and then shook his head at himself, laughter stealing itself to his voice as he rubbed his jaw, “never mind. i already fucked it up.”

now, you were not the brightest person in this world, but you could smell a butchered pick up line from a mile away. and the way kuroo tetsurou rested his chin on the inside of his hand, fingers covering his temple, effectively shielding his face from you, with the faintest of pink covering his ears, told you just how secretly embarrassed he was.

kuroo was cute, you thought. 

it didn’t take a miracle for you to come to the conclusion, especially not when you were used to hearing his loud voice boom through the class during the breaks. he was the one trying to keep some class-visiting friends in line, naturally assuming the leading role to hush them down, blissfully unaware at the same amount of loud energy he was returning.  he also didn’t escape you when he tried coaxing his blonde friend to eat more, offering to share his food only to try to bait him into taking it instead, when he got rejected.

you didn’t interact often, but kuroo tetsurou’s presence was hard to miss and the tiny flutter of your heart in response to noticing him hard to ignore.

“so,” you leaned a little over to him, and subconsciously, he had already started to accommodate you, lowering his head to catch your voice, “if you had to guess and we were, say, a chemical compound, would we be stable or unstable?”

his eyes lit up, a sly little look overtaking the embarrassment despite the little blush on his cheeks, and you could see his mouth curving up into a little grin, entirely too comfortable to walk the line between smooth-talking and sounding like the biggest nerd you had the fortunate luck of sharing seats with, “good question. we’d probably be unstable.”

oh.

you already felt your blood rushing to cover your skin in an embarrassed hue of red because you thought you were slick with that one. unstable? humiliating— but then he continued talking.

“but in a good way, you know? like, when two elements are drawn together, even if it’s turbulent. a little bit of controlled chaos makes things exciting, right?”

he looked at you with what was supposed to be a lazy smirk, though it wobbled with slight nervosity. one finger of his tried to brush away his fringe of hair, but the black strands fell back onto his face almost effortlessly. he really was cute, and for a split second you wondered the type of kisser he would be.

“so, like sodium and water?”

“okay, hold,” he held up a hand, trying to keep his expression in check (and failing to do so), “maybe not that exciting. that’s a little too dangerous, though it’s nice to know you like me that much.”

you nudged his shoulder away from you at the cheesiness, body straightening up again and an eye roll escaped you though you were anything but annoyed. if anything, you were a little charmed by the cowlicked hair, his eyes trained on you and the slight smile that didn’t know whether it should make fun of you or flirt with you. 

maybe he could do both.

you then decided to just try your luck because there was no way he tried to actually flirt with you using chemistry if he wasn’t at least the least bit interested, right? 

“yeah, yeah. maybe you should teach me some of that.”

he stared for a little while, silent and stumped (because it worked? holy—), though when he turned back to look back to the front of the class, you noticed the small, secret movement of him fist pumping the air and the stifled smile threatening to overtake his features.

(after class, you definitely didn’t overhear kuroo tetsurou whisper-yelling that you didn’t deny liking him, only for him to act all cool about it in the same minute. 

as if it was only natural for it to happen, he kept flexing his arms and striking ridiculous poses at the prospect that you supposedly were only one hair width away from being wooed by him. 

his blonde-haired friend did not seem impressed. at all.)

[teafant]

Also, look

You need to have friends or family that like you enough to be willing to help you. My mom sits on the porch multiple times a day, and leaves the property at least once a month, in spite of being very nearly bed bound. This is because she chilled out and followed my boundaries, so I let her move in, and now I help her do those things.

If absolutely no one you know likes you well enough to go like, pick you up and take you to Starbucks, or at least help move you from your bed to your wheelchair so you can sit on the porch, that is not because of your disability. It's because your response to things like "leaving the house is a good idea" is to claim leaving the house is ableist.

Being disabled doesn't mean you aren't a dick, and there's a good chance the reason people don't want to hang out with you isn't that like, your wheelchair is inconvenient. It's probably your personality, which you absolutely do have the power to change.

"Hey, I can't walk that far, let's drive!" Or "hey, I need to leave the house, any chance you could pick me up and we can go get coffee?" Is VERY different from "ummm... IDK why you guys always forget I can't do that?? Maybe you should reflect on that and be less ableist???" Or "well, I'm disabled, so I NEED a ride for my mental health, but if you can't do it I guess I understand.... No one ever gives me a ride...."

life actually gets better when you leave the house consistently btw like im serious

[h0efor2ho]

Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice  things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change.  As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. 

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed. 

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss. 

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

 His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance,  his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow. 

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes  for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile. 

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him. 

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making  your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you. 

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be. 

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[wayneskluv]

Wonder Woman's daughter x Bat-fam - Chapter one

summary: Your mom—Wonder Woman—just dropped you off at Wayne Manor like a kid because she apparently couldn’t find a “suitable babysitter.” Never mind that you’re a fully grown adult and more than capable of taking care of yourself. Now you’re stuck in a mansion full of brooding vigilantes, chaotic adopted siblings, and a butler who’s already silently judging your life choices.

You survived battles, monsters, and Olympian family drama—but can you survive living with the Batfamily?

word count: around 1.6k before i made final touches on tumblr editor

pairing/s: platonic!alfred x reader, platonic!damian x reader (he's a child in this fic!) and then maybe romantically dick x reader or jason x reader perhaps even tim. probably not bruce x reader. if anyone has any preferences, do let me know!

warnings: basically none at the moment. haven't pre-read. no beta, we die like jason todd. damian being a bit of a demon brat. demigod!user.

a/n: all images edited by me! if there’s an artist i haven’t credited, please let me know! i usually get my images from pinterest, and the credit is.. not great. if i’ve written something twice or misspelled something please PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me. i very much appreciate it. but please be kind! i promise the next parts will be longer, this is sort of an intro into it. even if they aren’t longer, i’ll write a few.

# ── chapter one's POLAROID design - DAMIAN’S:

WAYNE MANOR is.. a lot.

It’s not just the size—though the sheer magnitude of the place is ridiculous—it’s the atmosphere. There’s a certain weight to the air, something woven between the old wood and polished marble, between the paintings of long-dead Waynes and the ever-present shadows stretching down the halls. It’s a house of ghosts, of past lives and quiet grief, but also of something more. Something alive.

You follow Alfred through the halls, the weight of multiple sets of eyes trailing behind you.

“So,” Dick says, effortlessly slipping into step beside you, “how long are you crashing with us?”

“Not sure,” you admit. “Mom was vague. Something about a ‘diplomatic mission’ and ‘needing someone to keep an eye on me.’”

Jason makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re a grown adult. You need a babysitter?”

“Right?!” You throw up a hand. “I told her that. But apparently, my ‘tendency to attract trouble’ means I need supervision.”

Tim, still lounging on the couch with his coffee, raises an eyebrow. “You’re in good company, then.”

“I fail to see why we should be responsible for you,” Damian mutters, arms still crossed. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself. Do you require assistance dressing yourself as well?”

You smirk. “No, but thanks for the concern.” How old was this kid?

Damian bristles. Jason outright laughs.

Bruce, who had been silent up until now, finally speaks. “You’re here. You’ll train, patrol, and follow house rules. No exceptions.”

Ah. There it is. The Batman speech.

You tilt your head. “Define ‘rules.’”

Jason grins.

Bruce ignores him. “No reckless fights, no engaging Gotham’s rogues without backup, and no breaking my city.”

You cross your arms. “Define ‘breaking.’”

Tim groans into his coffee.

Dick pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You look around at your newly acquired dysfunctional family and resist the urge to sigh.

Mom really did just dump you here like a stray dog, huh?

—

You’re led to your new room—temporary room, you remind yourself—as Alfred sweeps open the door with his usual poised efficiency.

The space is huge. Bigger than necessary. A four-poster bed, heavy oak furniture, a massive window overlooking the eternal Gotham gloom. Everything is dark wood, old money, and class. The whole place smells faintly of leather-bound books and expensive cologne. It’s… nice. In a cold, excessively rich, mildly haunted sort of way.

Alfred clears his throat. “I took the liberty of preparing the room to your specifications. If anything is unsuitable, do let me know.”

Your specifications. Right. You’d told your mom you didn’t need anything, but she must have sent a list anyway, because there’s ambrosia nectar in a crystal decanter on the desk, a thick training mat rolled up in the corner, and a wardrobe that probably contains battle-appropriate outfits tailored to your measurements.

She really did just drop you off and send instructions like you’re a dog.

“Thanks, Alfred,” you say, running a hand over the desk. Solid mahogany. You could probably suplex a god onto it, and it would hold.

He nods approvingly. “Dinner is at seven. I trust you will have no issue finding the dining hall?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. This place is a maze. You sure I won’t end up lost and starving in the east wing?”

He doesn’t blink. “Then I shall inform Master Wayne that a search party may be required.”

Alfred departs, leaving you to take in the ridiculousness of your situation. You sit on the bed—comfortably firm, definitely high-thread-count sheets—and drop onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

Your mother owes you so much for this.

—

You spend the next couple of hours getting familiar with your prison.

It’s quiet for a while. Peaceful.

Then the knocking starts.

“Hey, Newbie.”

The door opens before you can answer. Dick. Of course it’s Dick.

He leans in, all easy grins and big brother energy. “Figured I’d check in. You settled?”

“As settled as I’ll ever be,” you say, sitting up.

Dick saunters in like he owns the place (which, okay, technically he used to). He glances around, nodding at the Amazonian touches. “Mom went all out, huh?”

“She thinks Gotham is held together with duct tape. She’s probably right.”

“Oh, definitely right.”

Before you can ask what he actually wants, another figure appears in the doorway.

Jason.

He crosses his arms, giving you a slow once-over. “So. You’re an Amazon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Dick chokes on a laugh. Jason grins.

—

The next few hours are a crash course in Batfamily survival.

Tim appears just long enough to tell you that “if you touch my coffee, I will kill you” before vanishing into the night like a cryptid.

Damian tests your reflexes by casually throwing a knife at you in the hallway. You catch it without looking. He says nothing. Just nods and walks away.

Jason decides to test your strength. By handing you a gun. You crush it in your bare hand. “…Well, okay then.”

Dick drags you into the living room for an impromptu movie night. Apparently, it’s a tradition. Jason spends half the movie making snarky Amazon jokes. Damian complains about historical inaccuracies.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re half-convinced you’ve walked into a madhouse.

Alfred serves a massive feast (courtesy of your inhuman dietary needs). You sit at the table, surrounded by Gotham’s weirdest vigilantes, eating like an Amazon in the middle of a completely normal family meal.

It’s bizarre. It’s horrifying.

It’s… weirdly nice.

Bruce, sitting at the head of the table, barely says anything. He’s watching you, but it’s not that usual piercing Batman stare—it’s more like a curiosity. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of trouble you’ll stir up. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to make of you. You’ve barely had a real conversation with him, just him dropping you here with all the grace of a father figuring out how to deal with his kids’ newest problem. But then again, Bruce Wayne isn’t exactly father of the year.

Dick’s usual charm is in full swing as he tries to make small talk. “So, you’re a demigod, huh? You’re gonna have to teach me some moves sometime. You know, to keep up with all the crazy stuff we have to do around here.” His smile is big, open—like he’s trying to make you feel at home, but you can tell there’s a nervous energy under it. He keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to approach someone who could probably snap him like a twig. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Jason, sitting next to you, shovels food in with no care for finesse. “So, you’re Wonder Woman’s kid. That explains the whole glowing warrior princess thing you’ve got going on. What do you actually do with all that godly power? Sit on mountaintops and brood or do you, like, break people’s faces for a living?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes. He’s testing you.

“You’d be surprised,” you say coolly, setting your fork down. “I’ve had a bit of experience with face-breaking.”

Jason laughs. “Good, because Gotham needs a lot of that.”

Damian, who had been silently poking at his food, suddenly looks up from his plate. His eyes narrow with some strange mix of suspicion and mild interest. “You will be trained, I assume?” he asks, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “Or do you believe that your divine abilities will suffice?”

You almost choke on your drink. “Oh, I’m definitely trained, kid. What, you think just because I’m half-god I don’t need to learn how to fight like a human?”

Damian’s lips curl up into something that might be a sneer, but it’s more like the equivalent of a raised eyebrow from someone who’s always trying to one-up everyone. “I suppose that’s a good attitude, for now.”

You raise an eyebrow back, feeling the tension between you two starting to spark. “Keep thinking that.”

Tim, who’s been glaring into his phone the whole time, suddenly looks up. His expression is the usual deadpan, but you catch a flicker of curiosity. “You know,” he says, tapping on his screen, “if you really want to get the most out of this place, you’ll have to figure out which of us is your mentor. Bruce is… well, Bruce, so don’t expect much from him. But if you’re looking for a solid training regiment, maybe ask Dick or Jason. Just—don’t get too attached to the idea of normal training. This is Gotham, and we all have our… quirks.” He’s about to say more when Bruce interrupts with a sharp look.

“That’s enough, Tim,” Bruce says softly, but with authority. The room falls silent for a moment. Tim’s eyes flicker up at Bruce, then down at his phone. No more words from him.

It’s… strange. You’re used to the chaos, but this feels like a whole other level of dysfunction. They bicker like siblings, but there’s this undercurrent of something deeper—loyalty maybe? You can tell that whatever happens between these people, they’re bound by something stronger than just the weight of their shared lives.

You take a breath and cut in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, I’m just here for the short-term. All I need is a place to crash and a bit of guidance while Mom does whatever it is she’s doing.”

“Short-term?” Damian asks, raising a brow. “How short is short-term?”

You glance over at him, the corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk. “Not long enough for you to start calling me ‘sis,’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glares at you. “We shall see.”

The dinner continues, awkwardly at first but slowly finding its rhythm. There’s a comfortable noise in the air now—the kind that only happens when people are used to each other’s company. And while you’re still very much the outsider in this strange little family, for the first time since you arrived, the weight of the world outside feels just a little bit lighter.

@hjgdhghoe @linnygirl09

[rachetmath]

Nora's Plan B

Hey Nora.

Nora: Sup Em, whicha want?

Emerald: Say if Ren doesn’t work out would you date Jaune?

Nora: Yes.

Emerald: What?

Ruby: What?

Weiss: What?

Nora: What? Is that a big deal?

Emerald: Explain.

Nora: I mean I call Jaune a fearless leader for a reason.

Weiss: But Cardin-

Nora: Let’s break it down. Jaune let Cardin get away with what he did was because of his transcripts however that’s also because Jaune was used to situations like because no one has ever helped him with that. Think about it, how many friends Jaune had before Beacon?

Ruby: Hm.

Nora: Plus the moment Cardin threatened Pyrrha his attitude took a whole 180. Shoot after the Ursa he was ready to fight Cardin again.

Ruby and Weiss: Yeah, she’s not wrong.

Nora: Next, Cinder would have to watch Jaune’s progression in order to set up a good team for us to fight. Didn’t she?

Emerald: Yeah.

Nora: And Jaune stood up for Pyrrha when everybody was laying pressure on her. That’s something.

RWE: True.

Ruby: But Nora sometimes Jaune-

Nora: Hold on, yeah, Jaune has his hissy fits but then again, don’t we all grieve differently. Plus Ruby, Qrow waited until we were attacked by Salem’s forces to explain everything. Instead, he could have just told us from the start. He was doing unnecessary things. So yeah Jaune has every right to be mad. I say Qrow should have counted his blessings that Jaune was willing to help him at all if you weren’t around. Or Jaune kills him by his own hands.

Ruby: Oh.

Weiss: But then he- Oscar-

Nora: With Oscar, Jaune admitted he overreacted with him. But, again, understandble. We grieve at our own pace. And I mean seriously Ozpin hadyears to stop Salem and he hasn’t done it. Ozpin might as well be just as bad as Salem.  Also if you have not noticed back in Argus the moment he pushed Oscar to the wall none of us were ready. Remember how  Yang looked?

RW: 

Nora: That was fear. I will say that takes points away for being attractive but it also shows he has a breaking point. Which for most people needs to be avoided cause someone could end up dead. But again Jaune proves he has control of his emotions by letting Oscar go.

Yang: Yeah she’s not wrong. 

Ruby: Yang how-

Yang: Stay on topic. Look I’m cool with Ren and you know I- I understood why he was upset but the moment he realized his tone with Jaune-

Yang: He knew. He knew he f**** up but then Jaune’s response- Oh my god.

Yang: He maintained his composure. His behavior proves he learned from Argus with Oscar. He still was willing to talk with him.

Yang: If that’s not maturity then I don’t know what is. Just saying. 

Ruby: But Jaune in the Ever After was-

Yang: Okay let’s compare. Ren was upset about Atlas and Mantle. Instead of being upset about it and following orders, what else has he done to fix anything? Nothing. And when he finally expressed himself it was after Oscar got kidnapped. And we were stranded in the middle of miles in snow with no food or transportation. Meanwhile, leaving those thousands of people to die.

Me: But didn’t you start it?

Yang: Doesn’t matter.

Me: Yes it-

Yang: Shut up. And in the Ever After Ruby…. …. We were there for a day and we made Little homeless. Robbed the knights. Almost died playing a game of chess with a spoiled brat. Fought our inner demons. And destroyed a city market with people in it to save ourselves from Neo. In one day mind you we did all of that.

Ruby: Holy-

Yang: Now with Jaune he wasn’t dismissing our problem but we were contemplating at the wrong time. 

Yang: Mainly because a storm came.

Yang: He then brought us to his home.

Yang: And let's recall he was waiting for us. Something he didn’t have to do. At all.  And what did we do? Judge the man for taking care of a bunch of children who want to die.

Yang: Then we brought Neo to him.

Yang: And Ruby -

Ruby: No further comments.

Yang: And Ratchet.

Me: *sigh* Okay. Fine. If you have seen my list of Jaune ships or seen any of my post on Ren and Nora., my outlook on them is not good. But after thinking about the reason I hate Nora, I steadily realized, ‘man, what I am saying, she’s better than Sakura.” She doesn’t physically or mentally abuse Jaune like Sakura does to Naruto. And unlike the other besides Pyrrha she’s consistent with Jaune. So I'll admit I was petty with her in volume seven and eight. I can see Nora’s Arc happening.

Nora: Thank you. Anyways Emerald I would date Jaune as my plan B. Especially if Ren and I don’t recover from Atlas.

Emerald: Well damn. Too bad you got competition.

Nora: *laugh*

RWE: *shocked*

Nora: Let them come. But remember, team JNPR. And team JNRO. And team RNJR.

Weiss: What is that- oh my god.

Nora: That’s right. I’m number two. I’m the second. I’m always beside Jaune. Not Pyrrha. Not Ren. Me. He’s the leader. But the queen of the motherf***ing castle. Bye ladies. *leaves*

Yang: Damn.

Weiss: Oh no, I better act fast.

Ruby: I need Ren to clean up his mess quickly.

Emerald: She most definitely

[cloudskyana]

astrology observations

note: take what resonates, these are only based on my own observations.

i have noticed that gemini, aquarius, and sagittarius placements in the big 6 makes a person easygoing. on the other hand, capricorn, scorpio, and aries placements in the big 6 makes a person intense.

when a person's planets are evenly distributed in their birth chart, they are usually adaptable and have friends from different backgrounds. these people are the ones that do not have any stellium, meaning that their energy is not clumped in one area, thus may be more accommodating wit different types of people and more accepting of situations.

people with the sun in the 10th house usually have big ambitions, if not, they are usually popular no matter how introverted they are. there will always be people that knows bits of information about them. the 10th house is your reputation, public image, and career, and the sun is your core and ego. having it in the house of public image may make you feel like people's eyes are constantly on you.

i have a friend with a second house stellium, and my father has some taurus placements. i have noticed that they have high standards and love branded and luxury items, no matter how expensive.

moon in the 12th house makes an individual unaware of their own feelings. if you are familiar with MBTI, these people are INTP and ISTP. it takes some time for them to process what they are really feeling. it is because the 12th house is the subconscious, and the moon is how we process our emotions.

scorpio moons are the most mysterious than any other scorpio placements. they are secretive with their emotions and find it hard to open up. when unhealthy, these people are usually great manipulators of a situation, and it is doubled when they have some virgo placements in their big 6.

do you have the moon in the 7th house? do you crave interaction and validation from people? I have this placement, and no matter how hard i try to deny it, I get more energy and assurance when i interact with people.

when people with mars in gemini gets angry, brace yourselves. since gemini is ruled by the planet mercury, which is all about ideas and communication and mars is a planet of desire, drive, and passion, these people have words that can stab your heart because they can be hurtful when triggered.

mercury square pluto in the natal chart makes an individual prone to overthinking. mercury is all about ideas, pluto is about transformation and intensity. since squares generate tension, the native may have unhealthy thinking patterns. the good side here is this placement is good for detectives since the native is always intense and curious, which means that they do not stop until they uncover the truth or find the answers to their questions.

when talking about love languages, i have noticed that too many fire placements in the big 6 are physical touch, earth placements are gifts and acts of service, air placements are quality time, and water placements are words of affirmation.

saturn in the 4th house people usually have difficulty in expressing affection. also, these people may feel restricted in their homes. they were not given an outlet to express their own baggage as their family may neglected their feelings. on the good side, these people are usually matured, responsible, and know how to navigate a situation.

sun square moon in the natal chart makes a person confused by their own identity. i have this placement, and in my case, it takes a lot for me to know who i am. sun is your core, the one that you show to the public. the moon is your inner world and emotions, which means that the one that you feel or the real you usually conflicts with the one that you show to the public eye.

[sanjarka]

not to be a broken record but it's not quite fair to use the line but peeta wanted them so badly as proof that katniss was forced into having kids, or of her having them for all the wrong reasons. it exists within the context of not only the epilogue but an entire story before it. and i'm not here to convince you to like it. but to try seeing the point at least.

to expand on something i've spoken about before - in the epilogue their children are playing in a meadow from a song she sang to rue, a song that she now sings to her kids, in a meadow not unlike the one she dreams about after the beach kiss (as i drift off, i try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no games, no capitol. a place like the meadow in the song i sang to rue as she died. where peeta's child could be safe)

so the tone in the epilogue can not be tragic and it is not regretful. it is hopeful.

the infamous line previously mentioned is not about katniss's lack of consent in being a mother but about the amount of trust she has in peeta as her life partner, as someone she loves. it's nothing but a connection to another line in the epilogue (where katniss is expressing her worry over teaching her kids about the games and her and peeta's role in them) → peeta says it will be okay. we have each other and the book. we can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

it is about there not being another person who could've made this decision, this choice, safe (no one has held me like this in such a long time. since my father died and i stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe)

it's about how his his hope made her wish safe (isn't it the thing i'd dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the games? and it could be true now couldn't it? if i hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until i recoil at even suggestion of marriage or a family?)

it's about how only peeta can give her that (what i need is the dandelion in the spring. the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. the promise the life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. that it can be good again. and only peeta can give me that)

the choice to be a parent is not easy and careless and it never will be. she's absolutely honest about being terrified of her kids learning about the games, of them being scared and forced to harden like her and peeta were. the pain of the past is not ignored, it is not glossed over, and the nightmares never go away. but there's something else in the epilogue too.

when i first felt her stirring inside of me, i was consumed with a terror that felt old as life itself. only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

how is this katniss being resentful and if she is why would she then have another kid? i've seen some people focus on the terror as it's this ugly thing proving her regret but is it not an entirely realistic feeling to have when carrying someone's life within you and understanding the neverending responsibility in keeping said life safe? there is such beauty in the phrase old as life itself. because it suggests the idea that this is something that isn't inherently tied to katniss's life, to her trauma and to her pain but to lifekind in general. and then the joy! how that terror is only settled when seeing your child eye to eye, seeing them breath and cry and live. it's such a gorgeous, intimate passage trying to let you in the love katniss has for her kids. it's not hiding away the sacrifice and the fear but it's also not hiding away how worth it it can be to make choices that scare you.

I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. that's when i make a list of every act of goodness i've seen someone do. it's like a game. repetitive. even a little tedious after more than twenty years. but there are much worse games to play.

how is this supposed to be so much more bitter than sweet, how is this anything but a love letter to peeta, to her kids, to everything she gained after everything she lost. why would she be so afraid of losing it all if it doesn't matter and why would she make a choice to believe in the kindness of people if the life she has now is something she has no say in and something that at best she feels indifferent towards to?

and obviously you have a right to feel whatever it is that you feel. i hate even having to say this cause who am i to give you a right to feel any type of way. i'm not trying to push my feelings onto you and tell you that this story must work for you, that it must make you feel hopeful. that if you're not satisfied you just have to read it again. stories don't work that way.

but to imply that the intention of the story is for the reader to be left hopeless is wrong. and sure, maybe that intention doesn't seem that profound you, maybe it is not interesting and maybe you think is boring. and maybe you think that katniss and peeta wouldn't realistically have this life path, or have kids, and maybe you think the end is too predictable and too expected. and that's okay. whatever life you have lived is going to affect what stories you find deep and what stories you find shallow and so maybe, this is that story for you. the story that you don't get. the story that doesn't work for you. and that's okay too. but to be so convinced that its intention is to present katniss's life as something so very miserable that she didn't choose but just let happen around her is wrong.

[forthefictionallesbians]

Andy stared pointedly into the glowing eyes of the affini sharing her table, daring them to prove her right. It would be an easy victory for "Wisteria Salashi, Fourth Bloom," should she decide to take it. Andy was under no illusions about her ability to resist any of the countless tools Wisteria had at her disposal--the xenodrugs, the hypnosis, even just prolonged exposure to her biorhythm. But if she could count on anything, it was her domineering friend's pride. That was the game, and she was winning.

Wisteria just sighed, the scarlet vines composing her chest folding inwards slightly along with the loud exhalation. All five of the eyes embedded in her "face" closed, and one titanic hand reached up to rub the bridge of her not-nose. It was a shockingly human gesture. Proof of how far Wisteria had come since moving into terran space.

"What's wrong, Wist? Afraid of showing your empire's true colours?" She tried her best to sound innocent, and failed. Each word dripped with the smirk slowly pulling at her lips. Behind her friend, a set of floret servers in overly cutesy orange-and-pink floral dresses had paused their rounds to gape. A few of the diner's other patrons, humans and affini alike, had also glanced after hearing the sigh. No matter. Witnesses would just make the victory all the sweeter.

"Really, Andy? You're taunting me with a feralist talking point?" Wist's response came slowly, as she completed her exasperated display and stared down at Andy with disbelief and... hunger? "You do understand that I could use that as a reason to domesticate you, without violating your rights as an independent at all?"

Ooops. "Ah, but we both know I don't really believe that," she retorted in a sudden flash of anxiety.

"Then why, dearest acorn, did you think this was a good idea?"

Her mind reeled slightly. What did Wist mean? It felt like the whole impulsive plan was crumbling around her. But she had known why she'd pushed when she had. This had seemed like a good idea then. Frost and fire, it could still be a good idea. She just had to make it work, and then she would finally be the winner in their daily sparring matches. Time to dig in.

"If you're so frustrated by this, then what's stopping you from domesticating me?" Wisteria's eyes were unreadable, dazzling ovals that seemed to dance as Andy resumed glaring. That wasn't fair. Hers couldn't do that. And they were so beautiful. And deep. And wow. Wisteria blinked with a slight chuckle, forcibly breaking their eye contact for a second. Wha- right. Andy continued. "I know you want to, so desperately. It's why you come here every day. And all that's stopping you is my explicit lack of consent." She folded her arms over her chest, the sleeves of her jacket making a satisfying rustle as a flared nose finished her picture of defiance.

Wisteria leaned forwards, towering over Andy as she closed the distance. The expression on her face had turned distinctly predatory. Andy yelped despite herself, before returning to her best facsimile of resoluteness. "Do you want me to domesticate you?"

The way her voice squeaked in response was horrifically undignified. "N- no! No, I don't! I-"

She was cut off by a purred pronouncement, silenced by the forest of thorny teeth curling into a cruel smile. "You've been coming here too, little one. Every day, just to meet with me. I think you do want it."

"You- you can't! Unless you break the rules! Which-"

"Which means you win? Because you've proved I don't care about them?" Her voice rolled like sap, slow and irresistible. Andy had the horrible feeling that she had messed up somehow. "Isn't it cute that the only way for you to win is on my leash?"

Frost. Frost frost frost frost. How had this gotten so out of hand?

"It's almost like you want me to take you."

Maybe she could still pull this together? Not be the flustered one for once in her storming life?

"To wrap my vines around your neck and never let go."

No. She didn't want that. Didn't she? Wisteria was so close, her eyes were so bright. The rest of the restaurant had stopped existing.

"Turning you into my little pet, my little plaything, forever and ever."

She was blinking so fast. It didn't help. Her mind was filling with that light.

And then it was gone. Andy shuddered, confused, the world slowly fading back in. What had happened? Wisteria was sitting back, leaning away from her, a satisfied expression on her beautiful face. The glow in her eyes had faded, and they were back to their normal burnished sheen. Part of Andy twinged in disappointment at that. But that didn't matter. As memories slowly folded back into her mind, she realized she'd lost. Again. Frost, she was hopeless.

"It's funny, you know?" Wisteria was speaking. Andy's head whipped up towards them, gaze refocusing.

"Wuh-- huh?" Eloquence had always been once of her strong suits.

"You could already be my floret, domesticated and then hypnotized to not remember it. And you would have no idea." Wisteria wasn't even looking at her while talking, focusing instead on swirling an oversized glass of some affini beverage. If Andy wasn't so busy panicking, she would have found the image strikingly beautiful.

Full consciousness crashed back in an instant, mind returning and immediately flying into overdrive. "I'm not, am I?" Andy frantically began searching through her memories, desperately hunting for proof of her lauded independence. What had she eaten for breakfast that morning? Where did she work? Were the answers real? Could she know??

Wisteria chuckled, still looking away. "There's only one way to find out, my acorn."

"And what's that?" Her heart felt tight. Panic still held her in an iron vice.

The towering affini pushed the chair back, and stood. However much she had dwarfed Andy while sitting, standing just made it worse. She held out a hand. "It's time for us to go now, pet." Her voice was iron, commanding, sweeping through Andy. With the turmoil in her head, there was no refusing the order.

Tentatively, anxiously, but obediently, Andy stood and walked over to take Wisteria's hand. Vines snaked out, binding her wrist and upper arm with a surprising gentleness that still lacked any give. There was no escape. Wisteria started to walk. Andy quickly began jogging along, barely keeping up with her friend's(?) massive strides. After the hypnotic display, a solid third of the patrons watched them go. Most of the humans were gaping in open desire. She blushed, hard.

Wisteria swung the door open, and Andy quickly followed out into the street. Her mind was still churning, struggling to catch up with how quickly things had gone wrong. Wrong? Had they gone wrong? She didn't know anymore. Gathering enough thoughts to ask a question took until they reached the train station, where she was picked up and placed firmly on a viney lap. That silenced her for another long moment, until she finally spoke up.

"Wist?"

There was no response; Wisteria didn't even acknowledge that anything had been said.

"Wisteria?" Andy turned to look up at her. Still, nothing. Her shoulders clenched. She had lived in under the compact her entire life, she had been surrounded by affini media and books, to say nothing of having watched many of her friends and acquaintances fall to domestication over the years. She knew what Wisteria was waiting for. And as hesitant as she was to say it, she had to know.

"....mistress?"

A wide grin spread across the affini's face, and she looked down at the girl in her lap. "Yes, my acorn?"

Andy felt herself tremble. This was not how she had imagined the conversation going this morning. But nothing felt real anymore. She didn't even know if her hab unit was real. The train was traveling the wrong direction for her, but she didn't know if that was right either.

"Did you-- Am I a floret?"

"Not yet, dearest. But we're going to change that right now. After how adorable you were today, I couldn't believe I'd held myself back for so long."

Andy whimpered, but did not resist.

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 5 - finale)

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies -> playlist, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: None really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 1.8k

AN: This is the final part in this fic. I hope all of those who've read it have enjoyed and thank you to the anon for requesting this idea, I hope that it met any of your expectations. I had so much fun playing with this trope.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Maybe it had all been a fluke. Perhaps the vulnerable side of Noah you had witnessed in his candidness had been a fleeting glimpse into something you would never encounter again.

As you retreat to the bar and adhere to your initial plan for the evening—wallowing in self-pity with a few cocktails—you find Noah seated there with his friends, his usual smug expression restored. 

This time, it irks you more, especially when he briefly glances your way but chooses to ignore you. It shouldn't bother you as much as it does. You thought that you had somehow moved forward, yet it feels like you've taken several steps backward.

After ordering a drink, you seek a quiet corner, or as quiet as can be found in a bustling bar within a Vegas hotel, and settle down, sipping contentedly on your cocktail while your eyes slowly scan the room.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

You briefly glance up to find Noah standing over you, but he doesn't wait for a response before sliding himself into the booth beside you.

"Can I help you?" You can't help but let your attitude slip through, as you felt slighted by earlier and him choosing to walk away.

"Retract those claws, kitten. I'm here to apologize." Somehow, you don't believe him, but you choose to relax slightly and offer him a genuine smile.

"Go ahead." You encourage him.

"You realize that you're the only woman who's ever made me get down on my knees and apologize, right?" You catch a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth, as if he's suppressing the enjoyment he derived from that.

"And I would do it again." You retort, maintaining a composed face and concealing any indication of your own thoughts behind it, by taking another sip of your drink.

"I don't doubt that." He scoffs, settling back against the seat, and you feel his arm brush against yours. "I genuinely mean it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked away earlier. It was just… a lot to process."

"And you've never been good with big boy emotions?" You quip, closing your mouth around the straw in your glass after apologizing, allowing him to continue.

He chuckles, despite the brief glare he had given you prior. "I suppose you're right. I've never really been good at expressing my feelings. But I also didn't know about your trip and whatever the guys had planned."

Your head perks up, and your brow furrows slightly as you pull your drink away. "Yeah, what was all that about? You said you knew I was coming?"

"Listen, all I knew was we had a show in Vegas. Apparently, Jolly, Sloan, and Nick had been planning this trip ever since. I only found out you were coming the week before we left. Apparently, Sloan asked what flight we were on."

Suddenly, everything began to make sense; the last-minute trip, the separate seats, and the fact that you were conveniently sat next to each other.

If you were a betting person, you would bet that she had also arranged the hotel rooms, given that this entire trip had been paid for using her hotel points through her work. "That mother—"

You grumble before Noah cuts you off. "I can't say it was the best idea, but I can't deny that I'm not happy it happened."

"Why? You realize that all this has only made us fight more than ever before."

"Yeah, but you're kind of hot when you're all fired up like that." Noah smirks, and you feel his eyes rake over you in a way that makes you squirm.

You hadn't expected that response from him. He was naturally flirty and charming, but there was some level of sincerity to his words, like he wasn't just trying to woo you.

"I still hate you." You clarify, and there's that smirk, wider than before, as he leans in close to you.

His mouth against your ear, he whispers, "I hear that hate-fucking is the best kind of sex."

His breath, hot against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, between his words and the unexpected closeness of him.

Before you can respond, Folio's voice calls for him, and Noah swiftly slips away, giving you a wink in return.

There he is again, the same old cocky guy you've always known. Despite the frustration, it's strangely comforting, knowing that beneath it all, he remains the same. 

"I come in peace." Sloan says as she approaches you at the bar.

"Why are you acting like that?" You laugh and reach out for her hand, pulling her towards you.

"Because." she pouts. One glance into her eyes reveals the slight glassiness from a few too many drinks this evening. "Noah mentioned he told you about the whole plan. I thought you would be mad."

You shake your head and sigh. "I'm not mad."

"Just disappointed?" Her pout deepens, and you can't help but laugh.

"No! I mean, a bit, but I should've expected it from you. Meddling in my life is your second favorite pastime, after breaking boys' hearts."

"I do really well at the first one, don't I?" Losing her pout, Sloan stands up straight, as if proud of her accomplishment in your eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder. "But I don't want to break this one." She confesses, shuffling closer to you before her head turns, and you follow her gaze towards Jolly and the rest of the guys.

"Then don't. Let yourself actually be happy with a guy for a change." You gently nudge your hip against her, and she looks back to you, nodding in agreement.

"And you should let yourself get a guy."

"Like who? Noah?"

She instantly shakes her head and scoffs, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "No. But I did see that cute waiter from the other night over there." She points to another table where a group of guys are sitting together. To your surprise, she's right. The waiter from the other night is sitting on the edge of the couch, talking to his friends.

With a nod and a quick pep talk from Sloan, you head over to his table, holding your head high as you try to think of anything flirty enough to catch his attention.

"Fancy seeing you here." you purr down at him. The guys' eyes shoot up to you, and surprise quickly turns to delight.

"What a nice surprise." he flashes you a smile and shuffles over, patting down for you to join him and his friends.

"Stare any harder, and you might just set him on fire." Jolly quips, passing Noah and patting him on the back with a chuckle.

Noah's eyes have been fixed on you ever since you approached the waiter from the other night and sat down. "What on earth is she doing talking to him?" he struggles to hide his annoyance at the thought of you entertaining someone else.

He doesn't notice the look shared between his friends, who are all watching him. Instead, he remains fixed on you with a heavily possessive stare.

Noah's jaw clenches with every giggle, every arm touch, and every movement that brings you closer to the guy you're with. He quickly looks away whenever he catches your head turning in his direction, afraid that you might see him staring.

"What are you going to do? Stop her from leaving with him?" Nick asks.

"If I have to." Noah replies.

At that moment, he notices you moving from the seat, your hand still holding onto the waiter from the other night, and watches you move through the crowd of people.

He tries to follow after you, but he doesn't know what he'll do if he catches up. Will he tell you not to go with him? Will he ask you to leave him with him instead?

He has no real plan of action, except for a determination to rush over and stop the lift after he sees you both stepping inside.

The doors close just a second too soon as he finally reaches it. "Fuck!" he grumbles under his breath and looks towards the doors leading to the stairs. Quickly, he runs over to them, pushing through the door and taking two steps at a time, determined to catch up with you.

David, as you learn the waiter's name to be, is a pleasant guy. Despite the fun and flirty nature of your conversation, Noah's words remain heavily on your mind.

Between his apology and his comment about hate-fucking being the best type of sex, your eyes constantly wander to the bar until you spot him. 

Convinced you've caught him staring, you can't resist the urge to tease him and decidedly invite David to join you for a nightcap in your room, slipping away with him.

It only takes a quick glance back at Noah's direction to see him already making his way through the crowd towards you.

You've got him right where you want him.

As you reach the lifts, you pull David inside, pressing the button for your floor. When you catch Noah heading in your direction, your hands move to the front of David's shirt, grasping him tightly and pulling him closer as the doors close.

Once alone with him, you push him back and reach for the buttons, pressing for the next floor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have invited you up. I was just trying to make someone jealous." You confess, feeling a pang of guilt as you meet his gaze.

"Is it the guy from the other night by any chance?" He asks, and you remain silent, making him chuckle as he steps out of the lift on the next floor.

"I think you don't have to worry about trying to make him jealous. I think he's already there." You catch the way his eyes move across the hall, and you peek out of the lift to see Noah standing at the door to the stairwell.

As David passes Noah and enters the stairwell, you watch him approach you, and step back into the lift, him following, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "So, you were trying to make me jealous?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

He backs you into the corner of the lift, and your back presses against the cool, mirrored wall as you gaze up at him. "I hate you." You growl, Noah taking a step closer and closing the gap between you.

"I know, you've said." he says with a smug grin, trapping you between his body and the lift wall. His arm stretches out, and his hand rests just above you.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet, and you catch a glimpse of the heat in his own eyes. They unmistakably flicker down to your mouth.

"Kiss me then." you can't help but smirk as you watch him lean in towards you.

Your lips meet in a passionate exchange as the lift doors finally close, sealing you together on the ride back up to your shared floor.

If you truly hate him as much as you claim to, then why do you find yourself waking up in his bed the next morning?

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @annthepenguin @samanthasgone @littlebear423 @aprosiacperson @flowery-mess @nyriastark @blackgirlmagicforever, @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Miss Raven may ask for some spoilers please?? 😨 what is this i hear about horror and Malleus knocking on the door? What the fuck is happening over there??? 😭

[You can read my thoughts on the book 7 chapter 12 part 3 update here!]

Idia’s connection to the rescue squad (via his tablet) is cut off in 7-280; we then see Idia in 281 coding away in his dream when there’s a sudden knock at his door. He asks who is it, and Malleus responds with, “It’s me […] Malleus Draconia.”

WhICH v ERY UNDERSTANdABLY SENDS IDIA INTO A PANIC

7-282 opens with Idia trying to stay calm and act like everything is normal. He says it’s rare for Malleus to visit Ignihyde. They don’t have a dorm leader meeting today, do they? Well, Idia would just tune in via his tablet anyway~

“Shroud. I have something to ask you. Open the door.” (Note: Malleus is not able to automatically blast it down because Idia has special technomantic bullshit in place protecting from unauthorized entry into his room.)

Idia asks Malleus what did he want to ask? They can do a video call; Idia’s not so good with face-to-face convo. A video call’s more convenient for them both, right?

Unfortunately, Malleus refuses. “No, now. There is something I must make certain of right now.”

Idia wonders what that “something” is.

AND THiS IS ThE mo MENt WHEN tHD E HORROR kiCKS IN FULL foRCE…

“Shroud. You—

“Are you awake?”

THEN WE CUT BACK TO RIDDLE’S DREAM AND DON’T GET TO SEE IDIA AGAIN UNTIL 7-294… These scenes were just something straight out of a horror movie.

This isn’t properly conveyed through my summary, but there’s a lot more that’s just creepy about 7-281 and 7-282. For example, the OST track Puzzling is playing in the background; it’s very ominous-sounding. I also trimmed out a lot of Idia’s internal panicking, which heightens the sense of dread building in your gut as you read the lines. Every so often, the screen even fills with static, almost as if Malleus’s cold fury is warping the dream or the game itself. It’s like building up to a horrifying jumpscare.

Wieiwieidwheuwudg While writing this response up, I actually found someone that uploaded 7-281 and 7-282 (with English subtitles, for your convenience)! You should take a listen yourself to see what I mean :3c Drink up all those horror vibes…

dhjsvskwnzks Anyway, this is why you’ll find a lot of horror themed fan art in the wake of the recent main story update ^^

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript and more puppy pics below the cut:

Megan: I thought you weren’t getting a dog. Asher: I mean, did anyone really believe that? Megan: [laughs] No, but I didn’t expect you’d come home with three. Asher: Well, the black one is Phoenix’s. Phoenix: Is it okay if he stays here, just for tonight? I want to surprise Aspen at her party tomorrow. Megan: Sure. It’s a good thing we have a quiet house tonight.

Asher: What do you mean? Megan: Dad’s working late and Spencer is sleeping over at a friend’s house. And I assume Iris is taking the opportunity to stay with her boyfriend.   Asher: Did she finally tell you about him? Megan: No, but you just did.

Asher: Rude. You cannot tell her I said anything. Megan: Don’t worry. It’s not like she’s been subtle. Asher: I guess. I just wish she’d bring him around, so I know whether to be worried or happy for her. Megan: You two… always so protective of each other. It’s sweet. Asher: Yeah, well, I have reason to be. Megan: Maybe, but she’s been quite happy lately, so let’s assume the best for now. And introduce me to these babies.

Asher: Okay, so these two are ours. The little singer over there is called Pluto.    

Asher: And this happy girl is called Pixel.   

Asher: Phoenix’ doesn’t have a name yet. He wants Aspen to help name him, so we’ve just been calling him Pup in the meantime.

Megan: You’re certainly going to have your hands full tonight. I’ll put out some food; I assume you brought some home with you. Asher: It’s up on the porch. Atlas: I’ll get it.

Phoenix: Maybe I should’ve asked this before getting the dog, but is there any chance I can talk you into dog sitting for a week this fall? Asher: Yeah, of course. You guys taking a trip or something? Phoenix: I’m taking Dawn and Aspen to Chestnut Ridge.

Asher: [gasping dramatically] Really? What changed your mind? Phoenix: Some asshole called me out for being stubborn, and I decided he wasn’t completely wrong. Asher: This asshole sounds very wise… AND good looking. Phoenix: Don’t push it.

Phoenix: But I realized that I need to decide if I’m going to give him a real chance or not, and if I am, then I need to give him the opportunity to show me he’s really changed, that I can trust him. Asher: I think this will be really good. And I know it isn’t easy…

Asher: I’m proud of you. Phoenix: Please don’t make this weird. Asher: So, no hug then?

Phoenix: Thank you. But also, if he fucks up and hurts my family, I’m holding you personally responsible. Asher: Well, that’s not fair, I don’t even know the guy. I’m not vouching for him. Phoenix: Too late. Asher: [laughs] Whatever. Get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow.

[zepskies]

Omg Michelle, this is so original! I've never read a canon Dean biking before, but I have a feeling it's about to be very fun. I LOVE me a S15 fix-it fic. 😏

“Hi.” Okay…what were the odds some crazed person knew sign language?

Ooh headcanon that Eileen taught him some sign language! Also I see you with the "Ramblin' Man" song choice. 😜

But eventually you were coming up on a town and the roads were about to get busier. He made a quick gesture with his hand before taking off ahead of you, getting in front of you in your lane and disappearing down the road. “Boys,” you mumbled, trying not to think of the last thing he’d signed. “I had fun, sweetheart. Let’s do it again sometime.”

LOLL oh Dean. I love that, "Boys." 😂

“Darn it,” he said, feigning a sigh. “Here I thought I made an impression. Did I not do enough wheelies?” Then he signed, “Sweetheart,” with his hand, flashing you a wink.

Damn him and his Dean charm. lmfao

“How about a ride on it?” You blinked.  “A ride on your…” you swallowed, the man chuckling. “My bike. Although you are more than welcome to ride anything of mine you like,” he said.

MICHELLE. The way I legit laughed out loud, startling the dog!! 💀

Dean pls, you can't convince me that you didn't mean the other thing. 😂😂😂

“My sister in law is deaf. I actually just became an uncle,” he said with a proud smile. “I had to finish up some work before heading back home for good. I’m going be a firefighter actually.”

OMG YES I KNEW IT. Saileen for the win. My heart. 🥹💓💓

“Cause I’m gonna blow your mind, sweetheart.” He revved the engine and took off like a bat out of hell, going faster and faster, so fast your heart was in your throat. “Here we go!”

Oh is that all he's gonna blow? 😝

But I love these movie moments where you're riding on the back of his motorcycle and he goes faster to make your heart fall into your stomach. 😅

“Only flirt with you, got it,” he said. You playfully punched his arm, Dean letting your hands linger one last moment before pulling away. “In a another life, sweetheart.”

Noooo don't let her go!!! That "another life" could be right effing now. 😭

Eileen was always on you about living a life more outside of hunting and now that you’d officially retired, you were about to start living it more.

OH MY GOD WHAT??????? You totally got me there, I did not expect that but I LOVE where this is going loll.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N, Eileen’s bestie?” You both nodded, Sam picking up the package and looking at you both like you were nuts. “Uh, do you two know each other?” asked Sam. “Some would say intimately,” said Dean. 

Deeeeeean, I cannot with you. 🤣🤣

“You want a visitors pass to the insane asylum in my head?” he laughed dryly. “Visitor pass? Honey, I live there, just a different ward is all.” He flashed his eyes open, green orbs hesitant. “I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m screwed up too and you’re going to have to give as good as you get. I need that. You need that. So either walk away if you just want to be friends-”

Ooh what a good line in her response. She has just as much trauma being a hunter as he does, it seems. She's being very straightforward and up front with what she's need of Dean too. She can't fix him and he can't fix her, but they can try to help each other move forward and start living their lives for them. 🥹💜

I love that last line too; their future is brighter together. I will ALWAYS read a S15 fix-it fic where both Sam AND Dean get the endings they deserve. (And you know I love a firefighter Dean. 😏❤️‍🔥)

What a lovely one-shot, friend! Thoroughly enjoyed this. 💕💕

Every Light

Summary: The reader is driving along a long stretch of highway when a mysterious stranger on a motorcycle shows up and decides to have some fun with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: This fic takes place post 15x20 (with some canon fixes adjustments). Also, we all know (including Jensen) Every Light is 100% Dean coded, right?

____________

Your fingers tapped against the wheel with one hand, your other hand hung out the window of your car, dancing in the wind. Music blasted through the speakers of your SUV, Ramblin’ Man pouring out as you drove down the long stretch of quiet highway on the bright summer day. The barren Texas flatlands stretched for miles before you, not a single car in sight.

You let your foot go heavy on the pedal, racing across the plains, the warm wind nice across your cheeks. Driving all day from Phoenix to Austin wasn’t exactly fun, but you were in a good mood. A great mood. One of those rare moments of peace and serenity where you just felt still and whole.

You happy little bubble popped when you drove past a crossroads, a slick black motorcycle turning onto the highway behind you. Fuck. It was probably a cop. You’d been making good time too.

You sighed as it came up on you fast, tension rising in your bones as you waited for a siren, lights, something. 

The motorcycle pulled up on your side, crossing the dotted yellow line and keeping pace with you. You turned your head, getting a better view of the bike. Okay, definitely not a police officer. Not unless Texas shelled out for jet black racing bikes with no markings. The rider was in head to toe sleek black leather, tight against his body with padding built in you were sure of. You couldn’t see past his black as night tinted visor. He, and it was most definitely a he based on those shoulders, turned his head toward you before raising his hand, giving you a wave.

You raised your eyebrows behind your aviators. The rider gripped the handlebars again, starting to weave his bike left and right ever so slightly before he straightened again. You tilted your head when he lifted his right hand and signed a simple gesture. 

“Hi.”

Okay…what were the odds some crazed person knew sign language? Probably lower than average and if worst came to worst, you’d just gun it until you hit a town.

You waved back to him, the man sitting up more and returning it. Then he was leaning back even more, popping a wheelie. Your heart skipped as he tore down the highway besides you, only setting the bike down when you flailed your arm for him to get it down on the ground. He finally did so, pointing at himself and looking around when you frowned at him.

“Behave down there!” You shouted out the window, even though he’d never hear it. He simply kept driving next to you, playing as he did so, doing something even more reckless each time he got you to laugh or smile.

But eventually you were coming up on a town and the roads were about to get busier. He made a quick gesture with his hand before taking off ahead of you, getting in front of you in your lane and disappearing down the road.

“Boys,” you mumbled, trying not to think of the last thing he’d signed.

“I had fun, sweetheart. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Six Hours Later

You’d wearily made it to Austin and after a quick shower at your hotel, you headed out to grab dinner at a local bar. 

“Hi,” said a handsome man when he took a seat next to you at the crowded bar top. 

“Hi,” you said politely, returning your gaze to scanning the menu. The stranger's eyes lingered though, your head turning slightly to find a smile on his face. “Can I help you?”

“No, just funny running into you again today.” You raised an eyebrow, the man chuckling. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“Darn it,” he said, feigning a sigh. “Here I thought I made an impression. Did I not do enough wheelies?” Then he signed, “Sweetheart,” with his hand, flashing you a wink.

Your eyes went wide, the man smirking. “You! That was completely reckless.”

“So was going a hundred down the highway, rebel,” he teased. He turned his body to face you, smiling hard. “You’re telling me I wasn’t the best part of your day?”

“You’re a menace,” you said, picking up your drink.

“And that wasn’t a denial.” He waved down the bartender, pointing at your drink and holding up two fingers. “So. You like me better as the silent mysterious type with a helmet over my face?”

You rolled your eyes, taking the new drink. “It takes more than a pretty face to win me over, babe.”

“How about a ride on it?” You blinked. 

“A ride on your…” you swallowed, the man chuckling.

“My bike. Although you are more than welcome to ride anything of mine you like,” he said. You scoffed, ignoring the fact you hadn’t been with anyone in far, far too long and here was a man handsome as sin offering himself up to you. “Alright. I pushed too far. My apologies.”

“…Why do you know sign language?” you asked.

“My sister in law is deaf. I actually just became an uncle,” he said with a proud smile. “I had to finish up some work before heading back home for good. I’m going be a firefighter actually.”

He looked so…boyish for a moment that you smiled at his genuine pride.

“Good for you,” you said. “I’m just passing through myself. My old friend just had a baby up north.”

“So what’s to stop you from cutting loose tonight? I’ll even pay for dinner like a proper gentleman.” You glanced away, the man tilting his head when your eyes darted back. “I promise to be as well or badly behaved as you want.”

You looked him up and down, the man still sporting those boots and padded pants. 

Oh fuck it. 

“I ain’t getting on the back of that bike without a helmet.” His grin turned devilish, even when you held up a finger. “Calm down, big boy. Let’s see how you last through dinner.”

“You holding on tight?” asked Dean nearly two hours later when you were on the outskirts of the city. Only Dean. Tonight was a one time thing and that meant no last names, no histories, just plain old fun.

“Yeah, why?” you asked when he chuckled beneath you.

“Cause I’m gonna blow your mind, sweetheart.” He revved the engine and took off like a bat out of hell, going faster and faster, so fast your heart was in your throat. “Here we go!”

“What are you-“ You screeched when he popped a wheelie with you on the back, setting it down after only a few seconds. “Dean!”

“More you say?” Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Morning,” mumbled Dean, a kiss pressed against your temple. You groggily opened your eyes, the clock flashing that it was ten. You felt him pull the sheets up over your bare back, Dean running a hand over your head. “Wake up beautiful. You need a shower before you check out.”

“Yeah,” you yawned, sitting up in bed, watching him dress. He smirked as you openly eyed his body, Dean cupping your cheeks in his hands when he finished. “One night, right?”

“You deserve better than me, Y/N. You’ll find him someday. Until then though, just know you are the best I’ve ever had.”

“You say that to all the girls,” you laughed, Dean smiling.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he said, kissing you once more. “Careful driving today.”

“You too. And don’t flirt with girls like that anymore. You’ll kill yourself on that bike.”

“Only flirt with you, got it,” he said. You playfully punched his arm, Dean letting your hands linger one last moment before pulling away. “In a another life, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Dean.”

You hadn’t planned on getting such a late start to the day but your night with Dean had been worth it. In a way, you wished you’d forced the issue and gotten his number at the very least. Sure, the motorcycle ride and sex were great but he was good company, funny and silly but something grounded to him that let you know you were safe with him. Eileen was always on you about living a life more outside of hunting and now that you’d officially retired, you were about to start living it more.

Including telling her all about your wonderful hookup.

You pulled up outside a house in Lawrence in the suburbs just after seven, barely up the front steps before the front door opened and Eileen hopped out, pulling you into a big hug.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, giving her a big squeeze, holding on tight. While you’d talked, you hadn’t been able to see her in person since she came back from the dead and this reunion was long overdue. “Come on, let me see the baby.”

“He just went down for bedtime. But he will happily see you in the morning,” she said, taking your hand and dragging you inside. “We just got the grill going out back.”

“Good. I’m starving and miss your burgers,” you said, letting her have another round of hugs with you. “Well if I can’t see the babe yet, you gotta let me meet your husband.”

“You know he has a brother that’s single,” she grinned, taking you through the house and to the back deck where a very tall man worked over a grill. “Sam! Y/N’s finally here!”

“Well it’s about time,” he said, picking you up in a hug. He smiled gently as he set you down. “I’m so happy Eileen has a friend in town.”

“Maybe you guys can give me advice on how the whole retirement thing works. I’ve just been traveling around aimlessly the past few months,” you said, taking a beer when Eileen offered it.

“You’ll figure it out,” said Sam, the rumble of an engine on the street out front echoing through the yard. 

“That’ll be his very single brother,” said Eileen. You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, he hunted too! You guys would so get along now that you’re both retired.”

“I’ve dated other hunters and it never worked out, thank you very much,” you said.

“You’re lucky I managed to grab the last bag of franks,” said an all too familiar voice. You spun around, Dean, your Dean from last night, standing right in front of you wearing jeans and a white plain t-shirt. He dropped the package of hot dogs, both of you staring at the other. 

“I told you he was good looking!” joked Eileen.

“You?” asked Dean.

“You’re Dean fucking Winchester?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N, Eileen’s bestie?” You both nodded, Sam picking up the package and looking at you both like you were nuts.

“Uh, do you two know each other?” asked Sam.

“Some would say intimately,” said Dean. 

“We’ll be right back,” you said, grabbing his bicep, ignoring the strength in it as you dragged him down the steps and around the corner of the house. You stared at him, Dean running a hand through his hair. “I thought you were a fireman!”

“I’m about to start my training. I was in Phoenix, cleaning up one last job but…someone had already fixed the sigils,” he mumbled. “You?”

“Yes, me,” you said, closing your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “I worked out of Washington mostly. Eileen asked if I would clean up a sigil on my way down here. I-I’m staying here for a bit to help with the baby while I find a place in town.”

“So you’re that friend of hers…” he trailed off, eyes darting around your face. His lips parted but no words escaped them. An unpleasant crack tore through your heart. Gone was the happy go lucky flirt from twelve hours ago. Instead a man filled with horrors beyond imagination stood before you, a desperation in his eyes that made your skin crawl. 

“You were wrong back at the hotel.” He shook off whatever thoughts were running through his mind, confusion entering the forefront of his mind. “This morning you said I deserved better than you.”

“You do,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m-”

“Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about you. We all have,” you said softly, taking one of his hands in yours. He swallowed, closing his eyes. “You deserve the world and I’m not just saying that because of last night. You more than did your part.”

“I’m not the guy from last night. I am severely fucked up-”

“Oh get in line, Winchester.” He blinked rapidly, brows furrowing. “You think you’re the only one with daddy issues and who’s died and seen the shit hunters do? No, you’re not. There’s plenty of us who have. I retired because of you. I retried because Eileen told me her friends the Winchesters saved us all and I could quit. I should quit. She told me to live my life. So you and me? We’re going to live our lives as fucked up as we are. And last night…fuck, I had fun. You had fun. I forgot about the nightmares and I think you did too. You think Eileen and your brother aren’t as screwed up as us? Of course they are but they aren’t scared to do the hard thing and move on. So why not us too? It doesn’t have to be together but-”

“Shut up,” he said, slamming his lips to yours. It was hard, rough. Something possessive underneath the surface that had you sucking in air when he pulled back, tugging your bottom lip along the way. 

“Kissing me won’t make me shut up, Winchester,” you breathed, Dean ghosting over your lips, cradling a hand against the back of your neck to keep you close. “We aren’t strangers anymore. You want more, you got to give me more.”

“You want a visitors pass to the insane asylum in my head?” he laughed dryly.

“Visitor pass? Honey, I live there, just a different ward is all.” He flashed his eyes open, green orbs hesitant. “I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m screwed up too and you’re going to have to give as good as you get. I need that. You need that. So either walk away if you just want to be friends-”

“Odds are this crashes and burns,” he said. Your hands slid to his cheeks, smirking up at him. “What?”

“Good thing I got my own firefighter then.” He raised an eyebrow, smiling when you tilted your chin up. “Stealing my moves?”

“Just remembered you were warned, sweetheart.”

“We’re going to work on that self-talk.” You tiled your chin further, Dean meeting your mouth, a smile in it. For the first time in a long time, in years, you let yourself think about a future and what that looked like. Dean pulled away slowly when Sam called for you both, his thumb brushing your chin.

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it with some help,” he murmured, trailing his knuckles down your arm, stopping at your hand to lace your fingers together.

Yeah, the future was looking a little brighter these days.

_________________

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: james kelly x f!reader

Movie played on the tv, warm light casting shadows on the walls covered in dark as JAMES KELLY leaned back against the headboard. The old romance flick is full of sappy dialogue, slow burns, longing stares—the kind of shit he rolls his eyes at.

But you? You love it.

And James loves you.

His rough hand run slow circles over your hip as you laid between his legs, half-watching the screen, half-melting into his touch. Rough fingers brushing under the hem of your shirt—his shirt, one of his old ones, worn and soft, draping down to your thighs.

"Baby," he muttered

You hum in response, mind half-lost in the movie.

He smirks against your shoulder. "You're actually into this?"

You sigh, "It’s romantic."

James scoffed, pressing his lips to your skin. "Yeah? That what you want?" voice is teasing, but there’s a softness underneath it, something so seemingly dangerous. Something so fucking in love.

Your stomach did a flip. You didn't answer. You just shifted, turning in his lap, straddling his thighs. His hands found your waist immediately, fingers pressing into your sides, firm but gentle, holding you like you’re something precious.

"James," you murmured, eyes searching his face.

God, he’s beautiful.

His hands slide up, push under your shirt, palms warm against your bare skin. Slow. Unrushed. Gentle.

Then, he flipped you over.

Your breath caught as he pressed you down onto your stomach, hands so careful as he shifted you onto your knees. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. James didn't say a word—just hookef his fingers in your panties and slide them down, pressing a kiss to your lower back.

"Gonna take my time with you tonight, baby," he muttered, voice sweet as honey, "wanna feel you."

And then—he sank in.

Deep.

Slow.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a whimper spilling from your lips as James groaned, low and wrecked.

"Shit," he breathes, forehead pressing against your shoulder, "so damn tight, baby."

He moved so slow, so deep, dragging every inch of himself against your walls like he wanted to make sure you feel him. All of him. Like he wanted to ruin you in the softest, sweetest way possible.

You try to focus on the movie. You really do. Especially when your favorite scene unfolds before you. But you simply can't.

Not when James is touching you like this.

His fingers slipped down to rub slow circles against your clit, free hand firm on your waist, keeping you close. Breathing is ragged, lips brushing against your shoulder as he mutters, "Can't even keep your eyes open, huh?"

You barely register his words, lost in the slow, dragging pleasure. You shook your head, whining, "Shh, Jimmy."

He chuckled, but it’s breathless, almost wrecked.

"Yeah?" He pressed his lips against your neck, thrusting slowly and steadily, rolling his hips in a rhythm that feels like heaven. "That good, baby?"

You nod, whimpering, "So good, Jimmy. So—so good."

His pace never picked up, never got too rough—just stayed deep, steady, just perfect. Large hands were everywhere—stroking your waist, massaging your hips, fingers slipping between your legs, making sure you feel everything he has to give

"Love you," he breathed "Love you so damn much, baby."

Your heart clenched.

Because James? He doesn’t say that often. He doesn’t throw words around like confetti. He doesn’t do grand gestures or romantic speeches.

But when he says it—he means it.

And right now he's also showing it.

Showing it in the way he holds you. The way he touches you. The way he loves you so deep, so slow, so good, it makes your bones ache, muscles spasm.

And when you finally fall apart, shaking, breathless, he’s right there with you. Holding you through it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your spine, whispering how much he loves you, how good you were, how beautiful you are to him.

Afterwards, he didn't let you go.

Not even when the movie ends. Not even when the room fades back into it's own darkness. Not even for a second.

Because James Kelly? He might not do Valentine’s the way other men do.

But he loves you every damn day.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina (i did not forget about you this time 🙂‍↕️) @nikiloveshayden