#I don’t know if I have anything to add on

[pucksandpower]

I’m a Feminist

Franco Colapinto x team principal!Reader

Summary: everyone knows that Franco has a thing for older women, okay … so when his team principal turns out to be a (stupidly attractive) older woman, he can’t be held responsible for his actions

Franco sprawls in the chair, arms crossed over his chest like he’s holding court instead of facing an emergency meeting. His grin is wide, cocky even, and wholly unapologetic. Across the desk, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing patience to come like some kind of divine miracle.

“Explain,” you say, voice flat, your tone giving nothing away. You refuse to let him see how utterly exhausted you already are by this conversation.

“I sneezed,” Franco says with a shrug, “and liked all your pictures. Really, it was — how do you say — an accident.”

You stare. No, you glare. "And commented damn mommy on all of them?”

Franco falters — barely. There’s a half-second where his grin wavers, his bravado cracks, but then it’s gone, replaced by another shrug. “I-I have the flu?”

Your exhale is sharp, just shy of a growl. “Franco.”

“What?” He leans forward now, feigning innocence. “Is it so bad? You look muy guapa in your photos. Should I not celebrate my team principal’s beauty? This feels sexist, no?”

“Sexist?” Your eyebrows climb so high they might leave your face.

“I’m a feminist,” he announces, as if that explains everything.

“Do feminists call their bosses ‘mommy’ in the comments?”

“Only the hot ones,” he shoots back without missing a beat, then quickly adds, “Joking! I’m joking.”

You slam your palms down on the desk, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it widens. “Do you even understand how unprofessional this is? I have sponsors asking me if I’ve been hacked! The CEO of Dorilton Capital called me himself this morning!”

Franco’s face lights up like you’ve just paid him a compliment. “Darren! He likes me. He said I was charming.”

“He said you were a walking HR violation!”

His grin falters again, but there’s something annoyingly endearing about how quickly it returns. “Well, at least he talked about me.”

You sink back into your chair and drag a hand through your hair. God, you’re tired. “Do you even know how this looks? You went through every single photo I’ve ever posted. Franco, that’s-”

“Dedicated?”

“Obsessive,” you snap. “Creepy. Insane.”

“Romantic,” he offers, leaning back again like he’s just solved a puzzle.

“You are twenty-one years old!”

“And you’re …” He trails off, letting the sentence dangle in the air like bait.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

He smirks. “I was going to say timeless.”

“Franco, enough.” Your voice is sharp enough to cut through his bravado, and for the first time, he looks a little serious. “Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in? If this gets out-”

“It won’t.”

“It already has! You didn’t think people would notice when every post I’ve made since 2016 suddenly has your username in the likes and comments?”

Franco shrugs. “I’m a fan.”

“A fan?” You throw your hands up. “What are you even a fan of? My press conferences? My sponsor meetings? My ability to yell at you when you ruin your tires on lap seventeen?”

His grin returns, this time with a little more sheepishness. “How sexy you look doing that last one, mostly.”

Your head falls into your hands, and for a moment, there’s silence. You think — foolishly — that maybe he’s finally run out of things to say.

But no.

“You never answered my DM,” he says, voice lighter, teasing.

Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

“Last week,” he says, tilting his head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I sent you a DM. Very respectful. Very sweet.”

“I don’t even check my DMs!”

“Well, now I’m offended.” He places a hand over his heart like he’s genuinely wounded.

“I’m going to lose my job,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Franco says, waving you off. “You’re too good to lose your job. Everyone knows that.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s dramatic! I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re not flattered,” he counters, leaning forward again. “I thought women liked grand gestures.”

“Grand gestures?” You bark out a laugh, humorless and sharp. “Franco, this isn’t a romantic comedy. You don’t win me over by cyberstalking me!”

“Cyberstalking?” His mouth falls open, mock-offended. “That’s harsh, no? I think of it more like … research.”

“Research?”

“Sí. I’m just a very dedicated employee.”

“Dedicated?” Your laugh this time is louder, more incredulous. “I swear to God-”

“Would it help if I apologized?” He interrupts, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering.

“Yes,” you say immediately.

He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you in that unnervingly focused way he sometimes has, the one that makes you feel like he’s cataloging every detail of your expression. “You wouldn’t believe me, though. Even if I apologized, you’d think I was lying.”

“Because you would be lying.”

“Touché.” He grins again, but this time it’s softer, less of a weapon and more of a shield. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry. But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter.

“I mean it,” he says, and for the first time, there’s something like sincerity in his voice. “I thought it was funny. I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem, Franco. You didn’t think.”

There’s a beat of silence. For a second, you think you’ve finally gotten through to him. His expression shifts, the grin fading into something that almost looks like remorse.

Then he says, “But if I had thought about it, you’d still be mad, so really, why bother?”

“Franco!”

He laughs, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more liking your pictures, no more comments, no more DMs. Contenta?”

You eye him warily. “You swear?”

“On my life.”

“Franco.”

“On my seat,” he amends, holding a hand to his chest.

You sigh, long and heavy, but you nod. “Fine. Just — keep your head down for a while, okay? Don’t give anyone else a reason to call me about this.”

He stands, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. “Anything for you … mommy.”

“And don’t call me ‘mommy,’” you snap as he heads for the door.

He pauses, hand on the handle, and glances back over his shoulder, smirk firmly in place. “Not even in private?”

“Franco!”

He’s laughing as he leaves, the sound echoing in the hallway long after the door closes behind him. You sink back into your chair, exhausted, and wonder — not for the first time —if this job is going to kill you.

And if it does, you think grimly, it’ll probably be Franco Colapinto’s fault.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys and reader doing the hear me out cake trend and reader pulls out a picture of Bruce when he was in his prime.

Apologies anon but this trend…Do not get me started on how misconstrued the phrase ‘hear me out’ is. I’ll rant about how a lot of ppl should look up the definition first. I’m very passionate about how butchered the trend is that every time I see one I can’t help but think ‘not a hear me out, try again or don’t to save my small remnants of sanity.’ I hate it so much.

Dick

Pouts.

‘My dad? Really?’ He’d ask you.

‘Yeah, what can I say he was a total hunk.’ You shrugged.

‘Was?!’ Dick replied, looking at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘What is he now then chopped liver? Do you not like older men?! Do they loose their charm the moment they have a few grey hairs and lines on their face?!’ He exclaims.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when doing this challenge because now you were being grilled by dick on whether you’ll still feel attractive to him when he himself gets old and grey.

‘I don’t have anything against older men dick, I just find your dad hot in this specific picture.’ You defended yourself and dick only puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze as he presses his forehead against yours.

‘Sweetheart I don’t think you understand because what do you mean you find him hotter in the picture?! It’s Bruce the man is just naturally photogenic!’ Dick tells you. ‘You could’ve chosen a recent picture of Bruce and say the exact same thing.’

‘Eh, it’s not the same thing.’ You say and dick felt as though he might as well rip his hair from his head because what do you mean it’s not the same thing?! He was now more certain that you didn’t like older men if Bruce was only appealing to you in his youth, his supposed prime.

Needless to say the conversation diverted from the fact that you found his dad hot, to one where dick was trying to prove to himself that you just didn’t like older men/ silver foxes for whatever absurd reason.

Jason

He’s oddly silent.

You feared you did something the moment you pulled the picture of young Bruce Wayne out to put on the cake.

The wait was over the moment he did decide to say something but it was nothing like you’d expect to come out of his mouth;

‘Out of all the pictures there are of Bruce, that’s the one you picked? Nothing about that picture is flattering to him in any way whatsoever.’

‘Oh you’re just jealous.’ You’d tell him and Jason only raises his brow at you.

‘Jealous, babe have you seen me? What’s there to be jealous of that old bat.’ Jason replies as he gestures towards himself before pinching your cheeks. ‘I just think it’s adorable how you consider Bruce in his prime as a hear me out, it’s laughable really but you do you chipmunk.’ He adds.

However when you weren’t looking, he’d take the picture of Bruce from the cake and throw it over his shoulder, for there was no way in hell he was going to have a picture of Bruce on a cake. No sir, Jason would much rather die again than allow his own father to overstay his welcome on the damn cake.

He’d even act innocent when you would ask where the picture went as though he didn’t set it on fire with a lighter after plucking it off the cake. ‘It must’ve grew legs and walked off.’ He’d shrug but it wasn’t hard to know the truth.

His dad can fuck off away from the cake and you.

Damian

Another one who’s not so amused by the fact that you added his father on a ‘hear me out’ cake.

He doesn’t partake in such stupid trends that’ll sooner or later long forgotten by the public consciousness in favour of a new trend that’ll run itself to the ground just as quickly as the last. He questions the publics attention span if it was this short and unreliable, he really does and fears that the age of stupidity has begun with people who think a conventional attractive man with a Roman nose or any other unique feature is a ‘hear me out.’

As if they were any less attractive than a man with a plain featured, and rather unappealing and basic appearance. They’re weren’t, if anything people with romantic noses or any other unique features were just as attractive as the plained featured ones, and Damian found it rather ridiculous that is what is being considered a secrete that many think they’ll be judged for finding appealing.

‘My father? Really?’ He’d say as he looked between you and the picture of his father.

‘Yeah.’ You shrugged.

Damian only sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘A conventionally attractive man is you hear me out?’

‘Not just any conventionally attractive man-‘ you tried to explain but Damian didn’t allow you the space to do so.

‘My father in his prime doesn’t count, you should really do better research before putting random people on a cake, or better yet don’t partake in a challenge you don’t understand.’ Was all Damian said before he leaves the room, he’s not impressed and feared that there was too many people who for some stupid reason also though his father in his prime is a ‘hear me out.’

It freaks him out and disappoints him greatly of what the future of Gotham and humanity as a whole would look like if these people were to be at the helm.

Tim

Not amused.

He’s sick and tired of people putting conventional attractive people and anthropomorphic animals who are drawn in a specific way to elicit such emotions out of people.

So to see that you had put his father, more specifically Bruce in his first steps as the dark knight, he couldn’t help but look at you disappointedly.

One, you obviously didn’t understand the concept of a hear me out and Tim is more then ready to educate you on what one is with his long ass PowerPoint presentation. And two, really? His dad? What was wrong with his dad in his current old age? Did you have something against older men?

Wait- why was he so suddenly concerned whether or not you find his father less appealing now than how he looked in his prime? He should be more focused on the fact that you found such pristine picture of Bruce during that time, he’s tried multiple times but the resolution was god awful and didn’t do anything to flatter Bruce.

You’re still getting lectured on what a proper hear me out is though. Tim’s got fucking tons.

[bisexual-borderline-disaster]

transcript

[A man faces the camera, which captures him from around his chest to the top of his head. Behind him is a wall with various paintings. He seems to be sitting down. On one side, there is the tiktok symbol with his username below it, @ mohanad.elshieky91]

I grew up in Libya, not to brag, in the city of Bengazi, which I’m sure you’ve only heard good things about. We are famous for our beautiful beaches and nothing else.

And I was driving my car years ago to meet a friend and by the time I got to my street corner where I lived, this woman comes out of nowhere and she does this [holds up his hand, palm out, symbolising ‘stop’] right in front of my car. And to be honest, I was intrigued, so I stopped.

But then that woman runs towards my car, opens the back door, and gets in, and I was like, I can’t think of one scenario where this is a good thing. But then the door next to me also opened and a guy comes in. He points a knife to my face and he says, “Drive now- please!”

I was like brother, at no point I feel like you needed to add the “please.” You know, I was never gonna be like [looks to the side and pretends to hold a steering wheel, as if he is a driver talking to a passenger] “Oh, are you forgetting something?” and he’s like, “please,” and I was like, “okay yeah, now I can drive you” [he flicks a hand to express how ridiculous the idea is and then faces the camera again].

So I started driving and in my head I was like oh, I got tricked, I’m being kidnapped right now, because that woman just stood in front of my car to distract me and this guy got in and they’re probably going to steal my car and do something to me. But then they were chatting and I can like, hear some of the stuff that was going on, the woman said that her phone died and she couldn’t call her husband to come pick her up, so that’s why she stopped me. And I was like, this part makes sense, but doesn’t explain the thing next to me.

And then the guy was like “Hey man, how was your night going,” and I was like, “I don’t know – I didn’t think we were doing this – my night is going great, hopefully not the last night.”

And then finally I got to the location he gave me and both of them left my car and went to a house and knocked on the house and man came out, I assumed that was the husband from the story, and I was like okay, but then the two guys started yelling at one another. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were just going at it. And I was just like, in the car watching them, and I know what you’re thinking, you’re like, ‘Mohanad, you could have just dri-ven [his voice wavers] away at this point,’ which is true, but more than anything, I love drama. I was like, I’m not gonna leave on a cliffhanger, you know, I need to see where this plot is going.

But then I was watching too close – close, and I was like, holding, like, like this on my steering wheel [he holds up one hand on top of the other, both open and face down, curved a little as if they are resting on top of a steering wheel] and I got too close and I honked by mistake.

And the husband saw me and he just runs back in, comes out, now he’s holding a gun and runs toward my car, and I was like, I don’t like this character development. And he starts yelling at me, and he’s like “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” and I was like, I mean, to be honest, questions I ask myself every morning – but also I didn’t know what to answer because I know – I don’t know who I am in this scenario, I’m also confused. And then he said, “Should I shoot you right now.” And I was like, “What?” and he was like, “Should I shoot you right now.”

And I was like, “When you say should, like, that’s a yes or no question, like, does it matter what I - answer?” and he was like, “What?” and I was like, “What are you saying, 'should I shoot you' – if I say no, wo-would you not do it, would- would my answer matter in this – case,” and he said [laughs a little], “Why are you making it weird?”

[He pauses for a moment to let this sink in]

And I was like, “I’m sorry that I’m making it weird, I’m just - scared,” and then he was like [flicks his hand] “Just go,” and I did not know you can survive death by being annoying, but I proven that you could.

And then the knife guy comes back into my car and he was like, “Just drive us home,” and I was like, who is ‘us,” I don’t even know your name – but I was like, you know what, I’ll just drive you where I got you from, to the streets, and forget that this night ever happened.

And he gets into my car and he was just like, “I was just trying to help, man,” and I was like, “I don’t think you’ve helped people before, because this is not how you do it. You could have just asked me, why would you put a knife to my face.” And I was like, there’s no way this night can get any worse, but then we got stopped at a checkpoint.

And back then in w– in the city, years ago, it was mostly controlled by these religious militias, extremist militias, they were, like, everywhere. And when I say extremist militias, I mean groups like ISIS. I’m not sure if you guys remember them, they kinda fell off, they used to be big on youtube, big posters. And they haven’t posted in a while. So I think about them sometimes, you know, I’m like, did they make it? You know, through the pandemic, you know, which I’m sure they did, those guys famously [he waves an open hand around his face, palm toward him, to indicate a mask] wore masks.

But then, you know, they searched our car up and down, and I said “our,” it’s my car, but – and they couldn’t find anything, I don’t know what they were looking for, and they were gonna let us go, but then one of them was like, “Hey, guys, before you go, I’m gonna ask you something,” and I was like, “sure.”

Then he said, “Who you guys support, us or them?”

And I- And I was like, okay, first of all, let’s acknowledge what a great question this is, you know, thank you so much for asking it, I love [his voice wavers] dialogue – but I didn’t know what to say, because I don’t know if you guys are “us” or “them,” you know, there are so many militias in the city and you guys all kinda dress the same, not to give you fashion advice but – you know, it’s kinda confusing, so I don’t know if you guys are “us” or “them,” and they were started – starting to yell at me, and they were like, “Who do you support?!” and I was so scared and I was like [presses two fingers to his forehead as if he has a headache] ah man, Jesus Christ, which obviously I did not say that out loud ‘cause that would have been so weird and awkward.

So instead, I went with another answer, and I said, “god. I…support god,” and they looked at each other [his eyes flick around as if he is looking at other people] and were like [he looks back toward the camera and shrugs] “honestly that’s pretty dope, you know – what a great answer, you can [he flicks his head sideways as if pointing someone that direction] go. That’s actually the whole brand here, so good job.”

And they let me go, and I was happy, but I drove the guy home and he turns out to be my neighbour, I love my community so much, and he was about to leave my car and he was like, “hey man, let’s hang out sometime” and I was like, “absolutely, you know, would love to do that, and you know – see you,” and…before he left, he said that I should keep the knife, and I was like, “why?” and he was like, “You never know when you need it man, this neighbourhood can be very sketchy,” and I was like, “oh, what – makes you say…that, like did something happen, tonight?”

And, um, I have not seen that guy since, and I don’t know what happened to him or whatever but, you know, uh, all I’m saying is, uh… life is a journey. [He smiles. The tiktok ends]

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[revelboo]

Aw, I love how you write the buggy boy Waspinator <3

He’s puppy. Ugly puppy.

Worker Bee Pt 9

Waspinator x Reader

• “Please, put me down.” Surprised at how calm your voice is considering you’d just heard your wet towel hit the floor and your clingy, alien bestie has you plastered against him. Those purple optics just stare down at you as his mandibles flex. And you wait for the inevitable ‘why.’ Because anytime you ask him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, it’s his go to. That much you’ve figured out. “Humans don’t like being naked around strangers,” you add trying to answer the question before he can even ask. Not sure if modesty actually means anything to him when he doesn’t wear clothes and has nothing to actually cover up anyway.

• “Not strangers,” he says, slightly hurt. You’re friends. His only friend, the only person he feels like he can trust. Who doesn’t hurt him just because he’s there. “Not strangers.” Aware he’s repeating himself, that the words are more buzz than comprehendible, but it matters. Needs you to understand this. Wings fluttering as he lowers you to your feet and drags you back when you immediately try to escape. Curling himself around you.

• “I didn’t mean it like that,” you groan, trying to push him away as he just clings. Making that pitiful buzzing whine of distress and hugging you to him, still oblivious to the fact that you’re mortified and naked. “We’re friends.” Awkwardly patting him on the head and nearly getting an antenna to the eye when they swing forward to touch your face in return. How is this your life? “Best friends, but humans aren’t usually naked around friends. Modesty. We like wearing clothes.” Exasperated, you almost cry when he lets go and bends to get your towel. Even if his antenna slide against your inner thighs and belly in the process.

• Venting softly as you wrap the bit of cloth about yourself and gently push at him, he doesn’t budge. Knows you want him to leave even though he doesn’t want to. Pretending to not understand, he wanders over to the little shiny box on your dresser and opens it. “Snacks?” And you’re running over, nearly losing your towel again as you take the box away and carry it to the far side of the room.

• “Please don’t eat my jewelry.” He’s just staring at you with confused optics as you set the jewelry box in the closet and start hunting clothes. You’re going to have to start wearing your expensive pieces so he doesn’t sneak them as snacks. Drifting back to the dresser to get underclothes, you’re aware of him just watching. “You’re not going to leave so I can get dressed, are you?” Head tilting and antenna lifting, you decide that’s a no. Of course not. “Okay. Sure.” Grabbing him by the arm, you’re surprised when he lets you turn him around so his back is to you. “Just stay. Don’t move.”

• Humming softly as he listens to the soft sound of cloth sliding, he fidgets his wings and waits. Doesn’t know what this new game is, but hopes he’ll get a reward for being good. Hungry again and knowing he’ll need to return to the Decepticons for energon soon. That thought filling him with anxious energy, because he wants to stay with you where he feels welcome. Maybe not exactly wanted, but tolerated. Aware that he annoys you, but it’s so hard not to constantly reach for you hoping to feel those gentle hands on him. Wanting to be near you, to sit at your feet if that’s all you’ll allow him. Just let him stay. Belong somewhere for the first time ever.

Previous

[with-my-calamitous-love]

too young / too dumb / to know things like love

katsuki bk. x f! reader

when perhaps one of the most heartbreaking and stressful relationship of your entire life comes to an end, katsuki can’t resist having you for one more night. angst/smut, breakup sex, y/a katsuki

@crushmeeren the snippet i left in ur inbox 🫧 thank you for all your love

another big kiss for u, 5sos nation 🤍 inspired by ghost of you

7:09 am.

katsuki wakes up, still pushed to one corner of the bed. he has the entire king size to himself, but remains unable to sleep on that side of the bed. your side.

he groans when he sits up, pain in his shoulders and a dull throb in his heart. red eyes flicker over to the leftover coffee mug on the beside. as time passes, your lipstick stain fades. but he doesn’t need the satin red makeup left on your favourite mug to remember how your lips felt, the way they tasted.

he wishes to go back to sleep, to dream long enough for you to tell him he’d be fine. he wants to believe that, to hold onto it. even if you know he’ll find himself drowning out his pain, dancing through his house alone, he hopes you’ll lie to him.

worst of all? so many saw it coming. but you both hoped, foolishly so, that you could defy the odds.

you didn’t.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

“so thats it?” you ask, but its more like a statement than anything. the finality in your tone isn’t lost on katsuki. the plates in the sink are left unwashed, dinner cold and neglected. the couch mourns the couple that once embraced on it, floorboards preparing to only creak for one.

years of training, of self doubt, surviving a war and becoming a hero, and the hardest thing katsuki has ever done was walk away from you.

“i have to do this.” he chokes back tears. “you’re not happy. i’m not either

and you want to lie and tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not and that what makes you so fucking angry. he’s hoping his absence will give you the peace his love couldn’t.

“i’ll give you your sweaters back.” you say, not knowing what else to add. you’re hoping he’ll say no. keep them. there yours. they’ve always been.

instead: “thanks, babe.”

“don’t fucking call me that!” you snap, tears spilling like a broken dam.

its at that moment when it sets in for him. when he realizes this’ll be the last time he sees you, or hears your voice. that from now on, he’ll have to drown it out, dancing through his apartment with nothing but the phantoms of what was.

“…sorry, [y/n].” he hesitantly steps closer. he wishes he could yell, be the asshole you know him for. but he right now, he’s wounded, returning only half his weight. he was losing his favourite part of him.

almost pathetically so, you jump into his arms, sobbing into his chest despite the anger you feel in your bones. he doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around yours, pulling you into him like its the last time. it is.

“fuck you, katsuki.” you cry, and he takes it. “yeah, fuck you too, [y/n].”

he says right before kissing you, but its different this time. there’s desperation in it, to feel you, to make this goodbye count.

as much as you try to, you know you love katsuki when you can’t hate him for breaking your heart. you tug him in by his collar, dragging the two of you to the couch. cries turn into moans, pain remains more or less the same.

he’s already shirtless, something he was always comfortable doing around you. he’s so hot it makes you mad, almost wishing you wore something nicer than his old zeppelin shirt thats too big it pools at your waist.

but he doesn’t care. katsuki will fuck you no matter what, evident by how he doesn’t even bother to take it off all the way, impatient. he grabs the hem, dragging it just above your chest. its no secret he wants to see your tits bounce and face flush when he’s buried deep in you.

your morning him, and the fact that from here on out you’ll never get a dick this good.

he rubs circles on your clothed clit, rough, hypnotizing you. he has to resist the urge to slam himself into you right away. he’s already breaking your heart, he doesn’t need to hurt your pussy in the process.

but maybe you don’t care anymore, whispering in his ear. “c’mon, kats, i want you.”

his breath hitches, red eyes looking concerned. “you sure?”

“just fucking do it.”

normally, he’d tease you, tell you to be patient. but he’s not patient either, moving your panties to the side before sliding himself into you. you both moan in relief. it doesn’t take long before he starts thrusting.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fuckin’ sorry.” he almost cries, kissing his apology into your skin, his cock deeply embedded into you. he normally likes it rough, getting you on your knees and pressing you into the pillow. but right now, he needs to see you- all of you. he knows this might be the last time.

“fuck, you feel so good, katsuki.” you whisper, cupping his face while he takes deep, intimate strokes. even on the verge of destruction, even as forever falls apart, he’s still able to make love and pleasure blossom from your heart and mind. he has that hold on you, that even if you married another man the next minute, he’d still have the key to parts of you you never knew you had.

hearing his name roll off of your tongue already breaks his heart. he swears that in another universe, this works. that right after he plants his release deep in you, kissing you through your orgasm, blurring the lines between fucking and making love, he’d hold you close and wake up to your face the next morning. and when that morning comes, he’ll head off to his agency after kissing you goodbye. he’ll think of you, of protecting you, of putting you at the centre of everything he fights for. even after this all ends, he still thinks that’ll be true. even if you lose your love for him.

“where do you want me to finish, baby?” he grits out, knowing he won’t be able to call you baby anymore. for a second you think of correcting him, but resign.

“just.. do it in me.” you cry. “i don’t want you pulling out.”

“fuck, you sure ‘bout that?” he grits, but he’s not complaining. he can’t give you forever, or even proper love, but if you want it, he can give you this.

you muster out a nod, his forehead pressed against yours. he feels that your close and so is he, his pace not faltering for even a moment. this really is the last time.

and when he releases, your mind whites out in pleasure. he makes sure to get as deep into you as humanly possible, wanting every lewd drop of him nestled deep in you. he groans into your ear, riding out your pleasure with a few more thrusts before collapsing next to you.

he pulls you in, almost on instinct. tomorrow it’ll be over, but you gave him tonight.

“you fucking idiot.” he whispers, though you’re not sure if he means you or him. either way, it’d make sense. idiot was his rude, endearing nickname name for you. idiot was also how he felt about himself, losing you.

“i love you.” you say, not knowing whats next, but knowing that whatever it is, it can wait till the sun rises.

“i love you so fucking much.”

and he’s happy that those are his last words to you, because the next day, he wakes up alone.

he pats the spot where you laid on the couch. he’s hurt, but not surprised. all his things are there, but its empty. haunted.

and he’ll find other girls, models, pro heroes, names he can’t remember. he’ll lay them down on his couch, hold their hands, kiss them or even love them. you’ll find other guys to unbutton your blouse, to lend you sweaters and promise you forever. but theres a deep understanding between both you and katsuki.

it’ll never be the same like what it was with you.

[yandereforme]

Part 5: Damian pt 1

TW:Mentions of violence,

Damian definitely comes into a very different family dynamic. Bruce has been strong armed into being better at communicating, all of the kids care about each other, and the big one? They all have a mom they are protective of.

However, Talia does pay attention enough to know what’s going on (let me know if you want me to make a minific about Talia meeting Batmom). So when she sends Damian in, she warns him to view Batmom as an ally, an important ally who is essential to being Batman, despite not being involved in the night life.

I will post a poll later if Batmom should know or not, but no matter what, the batfamily doesn’t think she knows, which means Damian’s quest for Robin is kept from prying eyes.

However, Damian still has distaste for the woman he views as taking his mother’s place, right up until your first meeting.

You are invited over for dinner, and when you walk in to see a boy threatening Tim and the boys not doing anything? Especially Bruce? You lose it.

Damian is more impressed by how you glare his father into submission, and then take him aside to ask his view. I don’t think he will mention Robin, but he definitely says something about taking Tim’s place, which is something you won’t let fly.

However, you work with kids and you’ve seen enough children like him to know what to do. So instead of trying to convince him that he will be cared for without replacing Tim, you instead tell him that replacing Tim would not do him any good, as each member of the family has to carve out their own place.

You don’t go the emotional attachment route, instead making it seem like a test. He has to prove he can fit as both a public member of the Wayne clan and as a private member of the family. You also make sure to bring up the fact that Bruce is very protective of his people, so attacking one of his people will only mess with his place in the family.

That is not to say that Damian’s arrival doesn’t add a level of tension to the family. Whether you realize it or not, you and Bruce are starting to have feelings for each other. Damian’s arrival means that you have to confront the fact of Bruce’s history. Adding the fact that Damian is ten, which means he would’ve been conceived only a year before Jason was adopted, AKA after you entered the picture? That adds a lot of feelings

(I know Damian was basically a test tube baby, but the Batfamily would not think to tell you that, so angst.)

It doesn’t help that you have only just started realizing how much you like Bruce. In your defense, you always knew you had a crush on him, but you didn’t realize it was actual love until after Damian entered the picture. And on Bruce’s side, he already knows he’s in love with you, but he has not communicated it at all.

So emotions are very messy, which make team make Batmom our official mom, a.k.a. all of the kids, have a harder job than usual. Dick ends up recruiting Damian early on, and while he’s less than thrilled in the beginning, he slowly starts getting more into it. (it has nothing to do with your kindness and hugs and calm explanations that are never even slightly condescending. He just finds you useful in his endeavors.)

However, a small complication comes into play, your ex.

You and your ex broke up a few months before Dick was enrolled in your school. The main reason behind your breakup was him needing to move for his job, and you not wanting to move, which culminated into a major fight where he did something unforgivable: He slapped you.

You immediately left him and blocked him, having mutual friends drop his stuff off at his hotel so you could get away with not seeing him. You refused to talk to him, even when he tried to get into your house. It made you thankful he left.

However, him coming back to Gotham made an already tense situation worse. You refused to go to Bruce when things were already awkward, so you just suffered in silence, avoiding your ex as much as you could.

That was until your ex showed up at your school. Luckily, security escorted him off campus after he started yelling. Unluckily, this led to Damian learning about your ex and with the combined pressure between him and Alfred, you moved into the mansion and had to tell everyone else in the family about things.(The only reason they didn’t kill your ex is because he went missing(and you would’ve noticed him dying.))

However, the reason your ex went missing? He was stupid and angry enough to mention you and your job to some exfriends who now worked for the Joker.

Now, the Joker had never quite liked you after your stunt, but you added an excitement to life in Gotham.

However, a man offering your location and usual haunts was offering you on a silver platter…. That was something he wasn’t going to ignore.

Yan! Batfam x Teacher! Batmom

All platonic besides Bruce

First off, you were Dick’s teacher at Gotham Academy, and the most sympathetic to him. You knew how hard the transition was, especially since he had learned on his feet most of his life, so you decided to have most of your classes on their feet at some point, and offered him help with homework

Dick absolutely adored you. He was suspicious at first, but after a little while he grew way more comfortable. The change from the circus way of life to living in a city permanently and having to go to school was astronomical. You were the only teacher who seemed to realize that and try to help him. You threw a ball around for the class to answer things, played games to help people learn, and comforted/defended him when people looked down on him for his background.

People learned very quickly not to complain about you or your class, otherwise they would have to deal with ‘pranks’ like being doxxed, having their things ending up in trees, and their parents deals falling through.

On the first parent teacher night, Dick dragged Bruce over to you. Bruce had already heard of you from Dick and done his own surface level research on you.

The minute this man met you, he understood why Dick loved you so much. You just gave this aura of light and comfort that no one else could ever measure. You were kind and understanding and sweet.

(Note, Bruce isn’t completely yandere yet. He is starting to be, but I like slow burn. Dick is 100% yandere though.)

Dick threw a major tantrum when he learned he would have to leave your class. He was aggressive and started purposefully failing your class. It got to the point where you called a meeting between you and Bruce and Dick where you talked about everything.

You met with them at the manor, and after a few minutes, you managed to get it out of Dick why he was upset. You quietly told Dick that while you would miss him too, you would be very upset if he stayed back for him.

However, Bruce and Alfred managed a solution. With a few bribes to the school, they started a theatre club that you would run(they did research and knew you liked theatre) and that Dick would be your assistant, and he would still have the option after he graduated.

Everything was back to normal for you, besides the fact that all of your dates never lasted anymore. You couldn’t figure out why?

Then, Jason Todd was enrolled in your class

I hope you guys like this! This is my series for Romantic Yan! Bruce x Reader.

[cuntphoric]

"you're being too rough," gojo says as geto holds you down against the bed, ass up and face buried into the pillows. he's holding you in place by the waist and has his hips pressed flush to your backside, cock buried inside you to the hilt. "i think she can take it, you know," geto murmurs as he brings a hand to the nape of gojo's neck, rubbing gently as his fingers card through his hair. "come on. don't hold back."

you don't know why geto is encouraging him. geto doesn't even like watching other guys touch you but gojo's different.

"yeah," gojo murmurs. his voice is soft, almost a whisper, and you can feel the heat emanating from him, making you sweat. "i just.. don't wanna hurt her."

"i'll be fine," you say, and your voice comes out weak, breathless. "pleaaaaseee, toru."

"she wants it, satoru," geto urges. "give it to her."

"but–"

"satoru." geto's voice is firmer now, but still sounds smooth and sticky like honey. he pulls his hand away from his nape and places it against his shoulder, squeezing. "fuck her."

you can see his eyes flash in lust and genuine obedience as he listens to geto.

he's moving now, his hips slamming into yours. you're unable to hold in the moan that's pushed out your throat, your nails digging into the pillows beneath you, and you're not sure how long gojo goes on like that. he's brutal, and his grip on your waist is bruising. you're crying out with each thrust, and it's a miracle you haven't blacked out yet.

you’re not sure how long it’s been - minutes? hours? - all you know is your body feels wrecked and hot, every nerve on fire, and gojo still isn’t giving up. is this what happens when he listens to geto??? his pace is relentless now, the hesitation long gone. you’re barely holding on, your fingers gripping the pillows so hard your knuckles are turning white.

“you’re making her cry, satoru,” geto murmurs, his hands wrapped around on his long cock, pumping his head.

“shut up,” gojo huffs, though his voice slightly cracks in the middle. “i’m just- fuck- she’s just so tight.”

geto chuckles, low and almost mean. one of his hands moves again, settling on your lower back, pressing you deeper into the mattress. “don’t give up now,” he says, his tone softer, so unlike the voice he had when he was telling gojo to fuck you rough. “you’ve got her right where you want her.”

gojo huffs and you can feel the bruising force of his grip on your hips as he slams into you even harder, each thrust punching the air from your lungs. your moans turn into something wrecked and broken, muffled by the pillows beneath you. what a sight to see.

“you’re a mess,” geto says, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or gojo. he wanted to add a degrading comment about you taking gojo's cock so well as if it was made for him. but then his fingers are back, brushing against where gojo’s cock is splitting you open, his touch light, teasing, but it’s enough to have you crying out, your whole body arching.

“s-suguru, what the fuck?” gojo stammers, though he doesn’t stop.

“just helping,” geto says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “relax, satoru. you’re doing fine. she loves it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

you can’t answer - not coherently, anyway. all that comes out is a desperate whine, your body trembling as that coil of heat deep inside you winds tighter and tighter.

“see?” geto’s voice drops lower, and you can feel his breath against your ear. “you’re gonna make her cum, satoru. don’t stop now.”

and he doesn’t. if anything, gojo picks up the pace, his thrusts are brutal but so addicting. you’re caught between the two of them.

but when you finally snap, it’s like your eyes goes white, your cries muffled as your body shatters beneath him and just cum oozing out.

[sgiandubh]

In Jake Norton's words...

Among domestic clearer political skies (yes, thank God, it's improving greatly!), it is with much interest that I read Jake Norton's first blog entry about the Everest trek with S and team. You can find it here: https://jakenorton.com/reflections-on-hunku/

Here are the excerpts I found most telling, but I do encourage you to read it all. It is genuine, it is honest and it is real. This guy does not need to sugarcoat anything, indeed - not that mountaineers were this particular type, either.

'An adventurous soul with a heart of gold', who 'rose to it all, never flustered or bothered, always interested and engaged and inquisitive.' Remember (ROFLMAO), this is not Tash, the Twitter Sparkle Lounge madame, speaking from her fangirling mirador at a random OL con. This is what a man with a 30 years experience of high-altitude trekking has to say about his unlikely, but enthusiastic travel companion. And to make the unintended (but honest) Slap-an-Idiot operation even more resounding, he then proceeds to explain why this is not even remotely an indulgent judgement of the character. He could not be clearer about it:

'And, to be honest, my little coffeeshop meeting was both to suss out his interest and let him meet me (and judge me) in person, but also, more importantly, to feel him out. Guiding for me is not simply an economic thing, transactional, but about time and people and experience. I’ve done too many “off-the-shelf” trips in the past to have zero tolerance for sharing the mountains with people whose goals and values are misaligned with mine. It took but minutes with Sam to know our worlds, while vastly different, were built upon similar ideas and ideals and approaches.'

He guided S the only possible way one must travel through Asia: with an open mind and an even more open heart. They deliberately ran away from five-stars accommodation (this blogger always combines the humble and the glam, with a noted preference for the genuine 'humble') and graciously responded to the local people's enthusiasm - something that will always be the most beautiful surprise to any traveler who successfully unlearned how to behave like a tourist:

'Unfortunately for Sam, I don’t really believe in the sugar-coated version of Nepal; fancy hotels and windowed views of life are little more than television with smell. I want people to see the real Nepal, wander the back streets, immerse in the smoky incense of dawn on cobbled streets, bells chiming and dogs barking, ambling through the visceral reality that is Pashupatinath, taking in the respite of Bodhanath, embracing the comforting chaos of alleys and backways of Lalitpur.'

Reading this made me both feel nostalgic and itchy. For even if you might find me enjoying high tea, in the Bangkok Mandarin Oriental's Author Lounge, my heart will always, always fondly remember the magical nights in a humble Hmong thatched hut at Ban Somsavath, somewhere midway from Vientiane to Luang Prabang. But that is personal and I wouldn't dare mix it up with someone else's experience, so I won't insist. What I can tell you, though, is that I absolutely believe S is honest when he says he will be back: for it is not the traveler that chooses Asia - it is Asia that carefully, deliberately chooses the traveler.

These sounds are mine. They will always resound loudly in my soul, for too many reasons to list here in tearing haste. Why did I add them, though? Because once your plane crosses the Everest, the magic begins in earnest:

[gingerteafairy]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

A small session of Dean spoiling you like a princess (and evolving a little scent kink)

tags: fluff, scent kink, f!reader, est. relationship, tickles bc he's a tease, praises. word count: 744.

The door creaks open with the turn of the key, letting you into the familiar comfort of home. The couch, a bit saggy from so many nights spent lounging there, welcomes you. The smell of sweat from a long day sticks around, and the scratchy fabric of your work uniform feels like it’s suffocating you. But you’re so drained, you figure you’ll just stay put for now. Until you remember.

Dean was gonna meet you here right after work. That gives you exactly 10 minutes to get ready, and you know how he is—always on time when it comes to you.

You rush to the bathroom, jumping into a quick shower. Deodorant, a basic T-shirt, and some comfy pajama shorts. The bare minimum to open the door and see your hot boyfriend standing there with that smile that could make anything seem perfect.

"Italian.” he grins, stepping inside and holding up a bag that smells amazing.

Then, you catch that woody, herbal scent of whatever’s in the bag mixed with the mouthwatering pasta. Oh no. You totally forgot to put on perfume.

"Oh, thanks, honey." You flash him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. "I haven’t eaten in, like, six hours."

"I know you too well," he shakes his head, putting the bag on the table. "Knew you'd be so wrapped up in work you’d forget to eat." He adds, "So I brought you your favorite juice, and I even got you that cupcake from Heavenpiece for dessert."

"Oh, Dean. I don’t deserve you." You pout, lazily wrapping your arms around his neck, getting lost in those green eyes that always do it for you.

"You deserve way more than this, doll." He smiles sweetly and pecks your lips.

"You spoil me so much... I’m gonna get so used to this," you laugh, feeling a hundred little kisses rain down on your face until he rests his head on your neck.

"You can get spoiled all you want... Hold up, what is that smell?" He pulls back, his eyes wide as he sniffs the air like he’s just smelled something amazing. You freeze, feeling him sniffing your neck like a bloodhound.

"Sorry, I didn’t put on perfume. I probably smell weird, I—"

"Weird?" He cuts you off, looking at you like you just said the dumbest thing. He buries his nose in your neck again, inhaling deeply. "That’s the best smell I’ve ever breathed in. That’s your smell."

"Oh, come on. It’s probably just the new soap," you roll your eyes, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks from his compliments.

"Nope." He shakes his head, grinning as he takes another deep breath. "That’s the smell of a woman."

"God, you’re so weird," you chuckle, but then he starts sniffing short, fast breaths, making you squirm and giggle. "Dean, stop. Stop! Deaaann."

"Nope. I’m memorizing this smell." He chuckled, his fingers skimming under your shirt to tickle you, making you laugh even harder. "It’s so, so fucking good. You've been hiding it from me. You're a very bad girl, you hear me? Get your punishment, pretty baby."

"Deaaan, stop!" You laugh, grabbing his hands to pull them away and locking your fingers with his. “Finally!”

"Alright, alright. But only if you let me sniff you all night. Deal?" He grins, and how can you say no to that face?

"Deal. Just for the record, you smell pretty damn good. New perfume?" You ask, leaning in to sniff him, smiling when you feel him shiver.

"It’s the one you gave me for Valentine’s Day," he says, wrapping his strong hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer. "But you? You don’t even need perfume. You’re so perfect, princess."

"Maybe the hunting affected you waaaay too much." You laugh, letting yourself fall into the warmth of his touch.

"Okay, but before we start this ‘appreciation session,’ you’re eating. No way I’m letting my girl starve while I’m having all the fun." He says, stepping back to unwrap the bags while you head to the kitchen to grab the plates.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you smile, sitting down to eat. He leans in one last time to sniff the back of your neck before sitting across from you, looking like he’s already counting down the minutes until he can taste you. The fastest dinner Dean Winchester’s ever eaten—because he’s already totally lost in the idea of tasting you, completely.

[hopepunk-humanity]

I saw the hopepunk gnocchi and they slay and I also wanted to share hopepunk feta cheese. 

I experience suicidal thoughts and while I believe I’m quite good at keeping myself alive, I obviously don’t enjoy that state of mind. The problem is talking to other people about it is always a kind of gamble. 

We were doing Secret Santa and being mostly focused on surviving I couldn’t come up with anything I’d like to receive, the one and only idea I had was feta cheese and my friends knew about it. 

And one day I was particularly not having fun, my friend caught on and we had a very sweet and non-judgmental conversation. Despite her best best intentions she kinda didn’t know what to say, so she was like: can I help you with anything? would you like some feta cheese? and honestly that was the best reaction bc it had this underlying message of: you’re still human and the same person I know, and that’s very sweet.

So yeah, she got me feta (even before the Secret Santa thing)

Pasta with spinach and feta: cook pasta, defrost spinach on a pan, at some point add feta, stir a bit, add the cooked pasta, meal, even more beautiful with pine nuts and/or pumpkin seeds

This is so sweet. "You're still human and the same person I know", thank you for verbalizing a concept I couldn't quite express. And thank you for the mini-recipe!

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[stellamancer]

notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.

takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.

wc: 944

“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 

Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”

“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 

There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 

You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 

Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.

“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 

The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…

You cannot deny it. 

Not when you know what you do of the top brass.

“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”

He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 

“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 

“Nope.” 

You blink at him. “What.”

“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”

Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…

“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”

He’s not wrong, but… 

Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 

“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.

“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 

“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 

Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 

“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.

“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver.

“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 

Your hand doesn’t move.

Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—

You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.

“Change your mind?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 

“What do you think?”

You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 

“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…

Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”

You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 

“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 

You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 

[moonlightdreamzz]

late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

[demonic0angel]

(ok, hear me out.)

Bruce looks around the dinner table and realizes, jasons dating Jazz, Cass is dating Danny, Tim is dating Ellie, and Stephanie is dating Sam. A tiny paranoid voice in his head says that Team Phantom is taking his family.

ok maybe he just needs some sleep.

But what if this is a plan of taking his family?

(I’m hearing you out >:) not sure if I understood it tho :/)

The moment Bruce left the dinner table, everyone paused, as if waiting to see if he’d come back. Then Jazz started another debate with Jason and the conversation resumed. Everyone chatted as they ate and then helped Alfred clean up, who shooed them away from the kitchen when they finished bringing him the plates and utensils.

Dick stretched with a low hum. He received a kiss from Dan for his troubles, and he laughed as he remarked, “Wow, dinner was even better than usual!”

Tim hummed. “It’s because these guys are here.”

“Well, we still have the rest of the night for ourselves, right? Wanna go to the arcade?” Dani asked, tugging at his and Kon’s hands. “We can go to my apartment later.”

“You mean, my apartment,” Jazz said in amusement.

“Same thing!” Dani laughed. Tim and Kon agreed and off they went, with Kon and Dani flying into the night with Tim in their arms.

Dan looked at Dick. “Shall we go home?”

Dick shook his head. “I want to go get some groceries first.” He turned to Damian and asked, “Want to come with, Dami?”

Damian looked at Dan, who just blinked, before Damian nodded. They went off together.

Sam said, “C’mon, Steph, we can’t let them have fun without us, right? Let’s go to the arcade too, or we can go look at the mall.” Stephanie happily hugged Sam’s arm and they also left the manor.

Jazz kissed Jason’s cheek and said, “Let’s go back to your apartment, okay?”

Jason perked up and then he wrapped an arm around her waist before calling out teasingly, “You kids be safe! Don’t add to the population, don’t subtract to the population, don’t do anything dangerous!”

“Tell that to yourself!” Danny snapped. When they also left, Cass and Danny were the only ones left in the manor. She was staring at him silently, dark eyes trained on him. “What is it?” He asked her.

“… you know something.”

Danny smiled. “Know what?”

She stared at him, then shook her head softly. Danny brought her closer to himself, reaching out to hold her gently, rubbing his cheek against her hair.

“We would never hurt you or your siblings. You know that, right?” He asked, and she nodded slowly.

Yes. They would not hurt her or her siblings. It was only Bruce who would be left behind, still stuck in his old ways of mourning, unable to see the hopeful future or the love between them and the Phantoms.

For a moment, Cassandra just mourned for the way things used to be. Then Danny swept her away and everything was soon forgotten.

(Or what if… the Phantoms felt like Bruce wasn’t a great parent and decided to “save” the others on their own.)

[heirloomgem]

Euphonious Series

Summary: (AU) In a world of ABO, you've always thought you were an alpha, high above others.

However, encountering your fated pair, proves you otherwise.

Add to that, your fated pair, whose grey eyes that always seem to see through you and black hair that always tries to entice your hand to run through it. You found out you were an omega through the heat he caused.

You couldn't help but curse the gods in every possible way as you tried your hardest not to kneel and beg your junior in school to claim and ravage you, whose name was Sung Jinwoo.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for my characters and plot.

Warning/Genre: OOC, Romance, fluff, high school life, gender neutral (Sorry for the miss grammar)

Chapter 1 - Meeting

In your current society, you have your first gender.

A female and a male.

However, once you reach a certain age, you are tested to differentiate for your second gender.

A Beta, which the majority are categorized.

Next is the minority that experiences heat, an Omega.

And then where success is guaranteed, the Alpha.

You have always thought your life is set.

Born into an affluent family, number one in studies and sports, a good enough appearance and a dominant but nonchalant personality.

You and everyone have obviously thought you were an alpha.

Or so you thought as you met those grey eyes of a boy, named Sung Jinwoo.

It had been an average day for you.

Waking up and getting ready for school, listening to your teacher as they teach their subject.

Doing your duties as a student council president and catching your schoolmates who were slacking and skipping school.

Punishing them or dragging their asses back if they defy you.

It was a normal routine for you however what made that day different from others was meeting him.

Your fated pair.

You had just finished all the necessary paperwork and meetings as the student council president and were on your way home when you saw a group of students harassing some middle schoolers.

Stopping in your tracks, you saw that some of them were from your school while the others were from schools that were close to your area.

Observing the group of high school students, you couldn't help but notice that they seemed to be part of the same friend group, as there were no conflicts between them. Instead, they were bullying some middle school students.

You sigh as you shake your head.

Such a bunch of brats.

Seeing that they have already beaten a few middle school students and are about to harass them again, you step in without hesitation and call out to them.

The students who wore similar uniforms as yours stiffened once they heard and saw you.

They have been the same junior students you have always dragged back to school from skipping classes.

They were either in some arcade or in some brawls with other delinquents from another school, in which case resulted in you facing both parties.

Neither did you take sides as you beat them.

In the end, you would contact the other school's student council president, who happened to be one of your childhood friends, to inform them about your schoolmates and what happened.

Afterwards, you would finally escort your own schoolmates' beat-up assess back to your school infirmary.

That was how it usually plays.

And since they have crossed paths with you a few times already, they have seen what you're capable of and have unconsciously ingrained your presence in their minds.

They knew they were in trouble.

However, the other students from a different school were unaware of their dilemma, nor did they know you.

And so, seeing you leisurely walking up to them, they immediately put their attention on you and abandoned their previous targets at once.

Oblivious to the danger they're putting themselves into.

Arrogant in their stance, clearly the one leading them was an alpha.

You sigh once again, deciding to finish this quickly. Since you were eager to go home and were quite looking forward to the dessert that your mother had bought from abroad.

The thought almost makes you salivate.

"What this? Trying to be a hero now aren't you?" The alpha taunted as he strode over to you, smirking as his lackeys trailed behind him and slowly circled you.

Eyeing you up, it was clear he was sizing you as he instinctive knew you were an alpha.

You two were almost the same height however you clearly towered him by a few inches.

Showing an indifferent attitude and not answering his taunt, he faltered as you gave him a cold stare.

Embarrassed by showing weakness and intimidated by another alpha, he hid it by sneering at you and barking again at your classmates.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?! Get your asses here!" He shouted, his voice showing traces of agitation. This affected his lackeys as their earlier confidence faltered as well.

Looking at their other friends, they were confused as they remained rooted in their place.

Their faces paled, body trembling and sweat dripping down from their forehead. Hesitant, they gave a small shake of their head, their eyes showing undeniable fear.

Annoyed, the alpha was once again about to shout when suddenly a presence loomed over him and a cold voice interrupted.

"I'll advise you to leave if you don't want yourself embarrassed and beaten up by the end of the day, kid."

It was your voice.

Calm and deep, sending shivers down their spines as they felt authority dripping off it.

The alpha and his group paled instantly. Something inside them, especially the leader in their group instinctively told them this student was dangerous and someone not to be messed with.

However, an alpha is an alpha. They weren't one to be bent over nor ordered around so easily.

And because of this and due to his arrogant pride, the alpha kid faced you with a sneer and defiantly challenged you.

"Fuck you."

"..."

The surroundings fell silent, and the atmosphere immediately grew colder than it used to. A heavy feeling washed over everyone watching the two and they felt a foreboding sense creep up their spine.

You, however, just gave a small cold laugh before dropping your bag. Your eyes narrowed darkly.

Not long after, sounds of screams and agonizing cries echoed in the park while your schoolmates and the group of middle school students watched in horror as you beat them with ease but not without mercy.

Instructing your schoolmates to drag their friends' asses to their school infirmary, you told them that their student presidents, whom you have informed already, were waiting for them at the school entrance.

They knew that if they didn't show up, this president of theirs would hound them no matter where they were. Because of this, you didn't worry if they ran away.

As for your schoolmates, they already know to show up the next day if they want to keep their balls alive.

Watching them limp away, you finally let out a breath and pick up your school bag, satisfied that everything was almost over.

However, glancing over to the side and seeing the group of young students all bruised and battered, you sigh inwardly.

You made a mental note to have those bastards write up a thousand-word apology and assign them chores around campus as punishment.

Walking over to the group of middle schoolers, you asked them if they were alright.

"Yes, senior. Thank you so much for your help!" One of the kids replied while the others nodded with a bit of enthusiasm.

Looking over their battered faces while a smile was on their lips and their eyes shining as they looked at you, you couldn't help but worry and apologize to them on behalf of your schoolmates as their school president.

Throughout the exchange, one particular student was silent and kept his distance from you however you didn't blame him. If you were him, you would also be wary, especially after what they have been through before you came.

You may have saved them, but there's no guarantee you won't do the same as what those previous people did.

Though you felt his eyes lock onto you, you didn't know whether it was hostility or something else. Just that you couldn't ignore how intense his gaze was as he watched you.

Deciding to let it go, you took out a card from your pocket and gave it to them, advising them to visit the clinic if they ever experienced any signs of discomfort.

It was one of the clinics your cousin works at.

Given the number of students you frequently handled in such cases, your cousin already suspected it was you who sent them whenever students arrived at their clinic with bruises on their bodies.

Your cousin scolds you because of it.

You simply shrugged and responded that it at least contributed to the business. No matter how you deal with these troublemakers—whether through a gentle approach or not—if they still refuse to listen, they need to learn the hard way.

It was that or nothing.

You explained and your cousin could only accept defeat as deep down he knew that kids your age are hard to disciple.

As the students bowed in gratitude, you noticed the admiration in their eyes as they stared at you.

Not used to such gazes, you cough and avoid their eyes. Instead, you immediately urged them to go home as the sky slowly turned dark.

Inwardly, you hope they won't turn out like you, as you know you are barely crossing the line when it comes to disciplining such unruly schoolmates of yours.

Bowing their heads once more, they said goodbye and walked away, eager to head home while chatting happily.

You sigh again and lift your hand to brush your hair, glad that everything's finally over.

As they turned the corner, you were about to leave when suddenly there were hurried footsteps behind you. You felt a hand grab your shirt tightly, stopping you in your tracks.

That's when you heard them, stammering with a soft and warm voice, calling out to you pleadingly as you turned your head.

Your eyes locked with grey-coloured ones.

It was the boy from earlier who was watching you so intensely.

He has soft black hair with bangs that brush against his lashes. He also reaches your shoulders in height and has a lean build.

Clearly, the boy was growing and showing a distinct trait of an alpha.

However, it wasn't those physical traits that shocked you, it was his scent. A scent so endearing your body reacted in ways you never experienced before.

You felt your body heat up, your hands trembling and your breath laboured as you continued to lock eyes with the boy.

His scent enveloped you, intoxicating and enticing, making you crave something you knew was wrong.

Slowly, dread fills you as realizations hit you all at once.

You cursed.

"Fuck."

A/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Their age will be explained as the story goes and don't worry there won't be inappropriate ages or such.

Please leave a comment on what you think! Thank you!

{All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author}