#Notice how I asked people like you not to interact?

[formerplumi]

(concept: redstart) batfamily x reforming criminal reader.

soft moments with redstart!reader / prequel post

> damian plays the role of being a little-brother guide, having being raised in a situation somewhat similar way as you. little moments like listening to him complain about something mundane as you’re both perched on a terrace during patrol, him trying to peel an orange and the two of you ultimately squashing it open, him doing his school homework while you watch, giving small bits of what you think.

> like this picture, but it’s reversed and the reader’s copying what he does in a way to humour him.

> reader who watches tim work on cases in their free time. asking very few questions that he’s pleased to answer, subconsciously slipping into a more articulated way of talking, using big words and metaphors to elaborate on even the simplest things. he’s very pleased to explain his work without a time constraint or worry about quality, and you’re more than happy to listen.

> i imagine they don’t really know how to communicate appreciation well in a “way that matters” since they were expected to automatically be grateful for everything in their previous family. so they learn from observing, watching people give each others gifts and presents. leaving little trinkets they find or make cleanly and neatly placed somewhere for them to find.

> is embarrassed by being recognised for it though. so the family just opts to keep it on them/use the gift in front of them so that they know they got it. reader’s happy, but keeps a straight face, voice softening in the middle of a conversation just a little when they notice.

> you’re close to cassandra too, sticking to her like glue. you both were heavily indoctrinated by your fathers that you couldn’t place the world over, healing slowly but surely. she most definitely helps you settle into your new life at the manor.

> small things, like recognising feelings you struggle to express, she notices, offering you a hand or leaning into your arm. you are neither willing to speak out what you feel, and she won’t insist. she knows, and you’re grateful that she does.

> dick grayson is a little overwhelming. it’s more of the fact that he reminds you of your other older brother than it is him offering warmth that you’re not used to. out of habit, you do try to coerce yourself into a complacent, comfortable-around-him sibling, but there’s always a little self doubt. he’s welcoming, but you subconsciously walk in eggshells around him.

> he does notice that you’re nervous around him, and brings it up one day when you, him and damian go to hang out. there’s a small conversation, and you allow yourself to open up just a bit about your struggles upon the reassuring nod damian gave you before leaving the two of you be. the pressure of being perfect, the expectations set on yourselves by yourselves, is something common between you two.

> it’s safe to say that you’re a little less weary around him after that exchange.

> now with bruce wayne things are a little tricky. he feels indebted to you for being somewhat responsible for the death of your father, something strictly against his code. you feel indebted to him the way you did for your father, for taking you in and providing you with the comfort of a home and a family.

> but on the big picture? your interactions with him are a bit difficult, awkward. ues you’ll spend time together, he’ll let you follow him on patrol, teach you about the life of a socialite too, but casual conversations are a bit stiff.

> he does try his hardest though, and you do too, to be family. the gift giving thing comes in here too. there’s not much bruce wayne can’t afford, but your small cards made with damian, origami made with cassandra and duke, and short letters describing your day written with alfred’s support warms his heart. the weight of guilt ebbs, just a little.

> if you happen to have a particular type of biscuit, or fruit juice, more often than the rest, expect bruce to remember to ask alfred to keep it in stock. seasonal fruits like guavas and oranges get imported year-round for you and the others, and that little, small extra care just makes you feel a little more appreciated. for doing nothing. your heart swells.

> solving puzzles with duke is a passtime training excersise you’ve taken up. it’s a replacement for the idle time you used to otherwise spend organising things for your father, but it’s comforting in a way other than being reassurance. whenever you get stuck on a particularly vexing crossword, he’s more than happy to sit with you and solve it. he helps you with the answer, instead of giving it, and it helps you understand that mistakes don’t undermine your efforts in anyway.

> “what matters is that you’re trying” is an oversaturated expression, but one you’ve seldom heard. and coming from him, the shared laughter and prideful “victories” from solving said puzzles, he shines an extra light through the dark window in your head that’s slowly opening up.

> jason todd is an enigma. you come across him in the manor library at dark, curious but not hostile about his looming shadow. you observe as he leaves, perceiving just a hint of hesitance from him as he climbs through the window.

> you did not much appreciate him the first time you met him, finding his opposition to bruce offensive, and your siblings slight awkward stiffness around him suspicious. you had considered him an enemy by their reactions at first, a familiar mixed rush of anxiety and impatience in your blood as you repositioned your leg carefully.

> but when he spoke, his voice wavered. just a little. and what took you up wasn’t suspicion, but familiarity. in his shadow, you saw your reflection. he was also your family.

> jason and your relationship is not much different from his with the rest. close, but only to an extent. but you understand him on a level that allows you to feel empathy for him, sadness that you couldn’t communicate it in the new ways that you learnt.

> so you slip into his dingy apartment while he’s somewhere on patrol, using your expertised ghost walking to enter without notice. you feel it’s wrong, and that there are better ways to be considerate, but you don’t care.

> alfred told you he liked to read, so you got him a book you had poured over and stuck into your heart forever. it was a little sentimental, stupid even, and you felt a bit embarrassed. he would be angry at you for entering like this, without asking, breaking in as an uninvited guest. so you reconsider your choices, and leave it in a bag outside his building, tied with a ziplock tie. you hope no one takes it.

> you’re not sure if jason ever got the book, not sure if he’d know if it was you or if he just ignored the packet and moved in. but the next time you see him out on patrol, he acknowledges you with a raised hand, before leaping away.

> it begins to feel like, your happiness is not deserved due to duty, but the consequence of your attempts at a new life. acknowledged, appreciated, noticed and even maybe loved. the moods you thought weak and unnecessary are the foundations of the stability you have found, the complications you faced with expressing them only obstacles in the face of support. sometimes you doubt their intentions are true, but even sitting among them whispers a little comfort.

> you deserve this. there is nothing you have done to not.

INTERACTIONS & Replies appreciated !!

next up: serious moments with redstart reader. the obstacles with a new life after such a violent upbringing, guilt and remorse, missing your old family, etcetera. im really just writing whatever, but do pls interact!! replies asks wtv,, it helps motivate and actually… want to write, since i kinda feel my itch to post on tumblr dying.. anyway,

thanks for reading!!

[sluttysnowangel666]

sweet like candy - choi su bong / thanos

pairings : thanos/ su bong x fem reader

summary : despite only a few insignificant interactions with thanos, he grows jealous when he sees you talking to an ex marine, dae ho.

warnings: jealous thanos, use of drugs, swearing, violence, ooc thanos bc he’s kinda nice most of the time except for when he’s jealous, lowkey sub thanos idk how it happened but bros a good boy😭, oral(f receiving), hand job, sex(p in v)

ngl this is not my best work unfortunately:( it just feels like i rushed too much at certain parts but i just didn’t want it to be too repetitive to other stories with too much detail when we all know how the games work. send me some requests, i wanna do au or write for thanos where the reader and him are outside of the games

not responsible for the content you consume, use discretion when reading past the border. 18+

“Señorita, excuse me.”

You turn, an eyebrow already raised at the strange pet name you’d just been called. It’s a tall, young ish man. You take in his appearance; his hair is a bright shade of purple, slender fingers painted like infinity stones, marked with dark tattoos, chunky rings, and a cross necklace.

You don’t respond, instead continuing to walk in the eerie room painted like the sky, with a giant doll at the other side.

You sigh, still confused at how you ended up here with 456 other people in ugly green tracksuits and millions, if not billions, of won in debt.

He raps you a song, also stating his name is Thanos, which you try to tune out but its mediocrity makes you stifle a laugh. He notices, and your sweet smile makes him smile.

“I like you.” He says, flashing you a little heart with his fingers. You roll your eyes, walking past him as he lingers on your trail.

A man runs out, player 456, you note. He begins screaming, saying the game was “Red Light, Green Light” and the doll was going to kill us if we moved. His reaction makes you nervous, his fear seemed so genuine.

“My dad comes home like this sometimes,” Thanos says, noticing your shift in demeanor. “Saying there’s bugs in the walls and his phone’s been tapped by the government.”

“Do you think the guy yelling is high?” You ask.

He smirks a little before answering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Fuck no.”

The game begins, and Thanos takes your hand. You go to pull away but his grip is tight.

“Let go.” You whisper, on a red light.

“Come on, señorita. Let’s stick together.” He whispers back.

Before you can respond, the girl in front of you starts screaming about a bee landing on her. She faces you both and laughs a little.

“Oh, shit. I just moved, didn’t I?”

Bang.

Blood splatters on you and Thanos’ face.

“Don’t scream.” He whispers, but even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. Your body is in shock, frozen. You grip his hand in return now, trying to hold your shaking.

More rounds continue, but neither of you move. That is until the man tells you to finish you have to be behind the doll. Thanos moves you behind him, and you press your head into his back with your eyes shut tight, gripping his jacket. He slowly moves, pulling you with him.

A woman reacts to the body, and an another shot goes off. Panic ensues, as people run and shots fire continuously. All you can hear is screaming and shooting.

During the next green light Thanos doesn’t move, but you feel him fidgeting around. Two rounds go by of this before he finally moves again.

He lurches forward, and you feel him go “Ding” as he pushes a group of people down. Three shots ring off, and during the next green light you let go of him. He doesn’t even notice, skipping and jumping and dancing during every green light.

In the end, you survive. Splattered in blood, yes, but alive nonetheless.

You avoid him after that, feeling unnerved by the way he played during the games. You noticed him sharing a pill with a guy later, which made his behavior in the game make sense to you.

You sat on your bed, your face buried in your knees as you rocked back and forth. The lights were out, everyone going to sleep but, how could you? After everything you saw?

You glanced up at the piggy bank, glowing gold

and filled with won.

———

The next game was about to begin.

You had been brought into a room, eerily similar to the one with the doll, except the room had rainbow tracks and pink suit men standing around it. They ordered you to get into teams of 5.

You wandered around, searching for a group of people who wouldn’t kill you for fun.

“Hi.”

You turned, facing a handsome dark haired man, his hair half tied up. He was neatly kept, carrying himself with confidence and grace, despite everything.

“Hi.” You respond, meekly.

“Would you like to join our group?” He motions to the 4 men behind him. Their faces are stoic, but they look friendly enough. You notice the one man on the team was the one who warned everyone about the last games. You accept their offer; it’s not like you really had a choice anyway. Besides, why not let them pity you if they felt sorry enough to offer you a spot? No one else was itching to have you on your team…

Or so you thought.

On the other side of the room, Thanos was searching for you to be in his group. He felt inclined to protect you now after the events of the first game. The drugs were fueling him into wanting to be the hero of your story. He was convinced he could you get out of here, and you would tell the world Thanos the Great saved you with a snap of his fingers. Besides, such a sweet face like yours? It would be such a waste for you to die somewhere so silly.

He finds you, in the sea of people, talking to another man.

He fumes with rage, the ecstasy making him react more uncontrollably than usual.

He bites his lip, all of his prior convictions now forgotten. Let the bitch die then, he thinks to himself.

The games start, and players drop like flies from the first groups alone.

Thanos’ team goes, and you can’t help but cheer when you see them play successfully. You jump up and down, laughing and clapping at their win.

Thanos locks his eyes on yours, noticing your childlike joy at his win. It makes him strangely prideful, makes him forget why he was so mad at you in the first place.

He bows to you, like a musician after a performance. You blush a little, smiling at him, forgetting why he scared you in the first place.

Your team is last, and you’re up first playing ddakji. Your whole team plays successfully, and you survive another round of the games.

You go back to your bunks, Dae Ho wrapping a friendly and comforting arm around you as you both walk. You sit with your group, eating and laughing while you slowly forget the chaos around you.

Thanos watched it all play out with Dae Ho again. His palms were sweaty the whole time, hoping you’d survive and walk back into that room. The second you walked back through the door alive, his eyes were on you.

“Are you good?” Nam Gyu asks Thanos, noticing his eyes constantly following you.

“I don’t know what the fuck are you talking about.” Thanos spits, defensively. He takes another pill, needing the courage for his next move.

“Let me have one.” Nam Gyu begs. Thanos reluctantly hands one over.

Nam Gyu takes it with haste, as Thanos stands and makes his way towards you. He quickly gets up and follows his friend, ready for whatever fight may come.

Each time you laugh at Dae Ho, Thanos picks his pace up a little faster. He’s convinced that it’s like with each laugh that slips past your honey coated lips, then the closer Dae Ho is to getting to taste them. He sways his body unnaturally as he walks, wanting to appear more bad ass than he really felt.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He says as he approaches you.

“Thanos.” You say, a warning in your voice to leave you alone.

“You good, bro?” Dae Ho asks.

“Why the fuck are you talking to my girl?” He addresses Dae Ho now. You and Dae Ho both scoff in disbelief, but this is how your reaction played out in Thanos’ mind.

They both laugh

“Dae Ho, you’re so funny.”

“Well, you’re sexy.”

“Let’s make out and fuck right here in front of Thanos.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

He reaches his hand out, grabbing you by your jacket and yanking you to your feet.

“Thanos!” You yell. Dae Ho and In Ho stand up to diffuse the situation. Before they can even intervene, you land a closed fist to Thanos’ eye.

He backs away, holding it as a little cut forms.

“Crazy bitch.” He says. He points at Dae Ho. “You stay away from her.”

“Fuck off.” You yell at Thanos. He backs away, still facing you and nodding his head in anger. His face reads This isn’t over.

“You okay?” Dae Ho asks. You nod, slightly breathless.

The way Thanos grabbed you was rude,

unnecessary,

controlling…

and hot.

You wanted to kick yourself for feeling so attracted to him in that moment. He was mentally unstable, high; everything that could be wrong with a man, he was.

Yet here you were, yearning for a piece of him just as he yearned for you.

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep in your bunk. You were stressed with nerves, with the thought that each next day could be your last. You tapped your foot relentlessly against the frame of the bed, until a person above you made a threat.

You sighed, getting up and walking to the door to be let to the bathroom.

You washed your face again for what was probably the 15th time, feeling like the blood was still on you.

You didn’t even hear the door, didn’t hear him walk up behind you, didn’t notice he was there until his hands were on your hips.

You gasped, turning with your fist, ready to make a collision; but Thanos was quicker than you this time, catching your wrist before you could seal the hit.

“Whoa.” He said, “Relax, girl.”

“What are you doing in here?” You yelled at him. He shushed you, making a tcht tcht tcht sound.

“You embarrassed me out there.” He said, tilting his head to show you his bruised eye.

“You? How about you yanking me to my feet in a room full of people?”

He says nothing, but he smirks at you.

“You’re just so pretty. How am I supposed to sit back and watch my girl flirt with other men?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Is that what you think I am?”

“It’s what I know you are.” He says lowly, his hand resting against your throat. “You’re mine.”

“I’m not yours. You don’t ask, you just take from people. You’re a bully.”

“What are we, kids on a school yard? I’m a bully?” He steps closer than he already was, pressing himself into you.

“Yes.” You whisper out.

“Quiet now, aren’t we?” He teases, his voice low.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just fucking do it.” You say.

He laughs loudly, “Kill you? Get serious, girl.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

You say nothing. Your hands are pressed against the counter top of the sink, and his body is pressed against yours. Chest to chest, you have nowhere to go.

“Move.” You say. Your eyes are locked, and you feel like prey being tortured by predator. Tortured in the way he’s doing nothing, just staring you down. He doesn’t budge still.

You grab him by his collar, pulling his face inches from yours.

“Move.” You say again, your voice pleading.

He notices. You’re not pleading him to move because of fear, you’re pleading for him to move because of lust.

His fingers trail up your arm, then trace your jaw to pull your chin up. He laces his fingers through your hair, pulling you so that your lips are on his.

He didn’t expect you to kiss him the way you did, it took him by such surprise, which he dared never admit because he was almost never surprised. But the way you grabbed his collar, trying to pull him so deep into you that you both might collapse into each other like stars.

“Where’d this come from?” He asks breathlessly, barely able to break away from you to get the question out.

“Can you just shut up?” You say quickly, pulling him back into you.

“As my queen commands.” He says, matching your ferocity with the kiss.

Both of his hands rest on your cheeks while he kisses you, but you take one and slowly push it down to your sweats.

“Why so eager?” He asks, breathlessly.

“You’re talking too much.” You say, pushing him off you. “Get on your knees.”

He scoffs, shocked. “Are you serious?”

You nod, and so he listens. He kisses down your body, tugging on your sweats when he’s on his knees. He kisses your thighs, mumbling sweet nothings about your body that were too soft to hear.

“Thanos-“

“Su Bong.” He corrects you, needing to hear you moan his real name.

“Su Bong, please don’t tease me.” You whine, so he concedes. Lifting up your leg onto his shoulder so he can kiss and lick and suck every part of you. You whine, pulling his purple tufts of hair.

“You are so sweet,” He whispers. “Sweet like candy.”

“Oh, my boy.” You moan, egging him on. His nails grip into your thighs unintentionally. He’s just so desperate for you, desperate to taste every drop.

Your nails dig into his forearm, scratching for release.

“Please, oh, please, Su Bong.”

He looks up at you, pupils dilated like the size of black holes. You throw your head back, grinding your hips into his mouth, chasing your release.

You pull his hair harshly, and he digs his nails into your thighs even more as you release. You cry out, repeating his name like a prayer, and he moans into you, fueling your release. He doesn’t miss a drop.

He comes off you, breathless. He sets your leg down, pulling your sweats back up as he stands.

You stare at each other, both of you panting in silence for a few moments. You sneak your hand down, resting it against his hard crotch. You smirk a little, and he mirrors it.

“I think I love you.” He moans as you rub him.

“I think you’re high.” You respond, and he laughs and nods. He leans down to kiss you again, gentler this time.

“Do you want one?” He asks, nodding to his necklace. You hesitate, but end up shaking your head no.

“I think we should head back.” You whisper, still rubbing him. He shakes his head no, moaning into your neck. He grips your jacket in desperate agony.

“I need you so bad.” He finally admits.

“Fine.” You fold, and he’s ever so quick to pull your sweats back down. He unhooks one of your legs from the pants, pulling it up so he can rest it around his hips as he pushes his sweats down just slightly so he can insert himself into you.

So, there you both are. Standing with one leg hooked around him and absolutely gripping the sink as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You don’t even try to hide your moans, throwing your head back in euphoria as Thanos buries his face in your neck with shameful whimpers. You grip onto whatever part of him you can for support. Your back is slamming into the edge of the sink over and over, surely leaving a bruise on your tailbone.

He kisses and sucks on your neck, leaving dark bruised purple hickeys on every inch. Marking you, so that you knew who you belong to and so that everyone else out there knew too.

His thrusts were relentless, and the angle he fucked you was crucial, hitting into your cervix each time. Your hands pushed on his hips, resisting his movements slightly, which only fueled him more.

“Stop it.” He moans.

“You stop, you’re being so rough.” You whimper.

“This is me being gentle,” He says. “You want something less than this, then I better not ever catch you speaking to another man again.”

You moan in defeated acceptance, grasping at his shoulders instead for balance. His perfect thrusts make you leak all over him, his pants soaked with your juices.

“You’re so wet.” He moans. “I think you’re gonna make me cum.”

You tighten around him, sending him into a frenzy. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, and you yank him by the collar to pull his lips onto yours.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh please.” You beg him, between kisses.

“I’ve got you.” He manages to get out, holding you as you let out the most heavenly cry. Your moans send him over, and he pulls out to spill himself all over your cunt.

He smears it on your folds with his hands, and you smack his chest, giving him a push off you while he laughs at your irritability.

“You’re such a dick.” You say, wiping yourself with a paper towel from the dispenser. He kisses your neck with a smirk.

“Come lay with me when you’re done.” He says, walking out of the bathroom.

You roll your eyes, cleaning yourself up before walking out.

You re enter the bunks, searching the room for his bed. He’s in a lower ish one, laying down with hands resting behind his head and his eyes blissfully closed. Your eyes move back and forth between his bed and your empty one, until your feet start moving before your mind can even decide.

He doesn’t even open his eyes when you crawl in beside him. He just wraps his arm around you, kissing your temple as you both drift off to sleep,

both of you blissfully unaware of the horrors of tomorrow’s game…

Part 2?

[demonic0angel]

Ok! Spoiler warning ship. Where Wes explains why he hates Danny. No one will believe him that fenton is phantom.

Steph looks him dead in the eye, takes a deep breath. Then explains to him in a dead serious tone how stupid and dangerous that is, not only to the hero, but him and everyone else too.

(It's funny that you ask me this. Just wait for tomorrow lmaooo)

"I know that. I was fourteen." Wes crossed his arms and looked away, glaring at nothing. "It doesn't mean that I can't hate Phantom."

Steph raised a finger and opened her mouth, ready to defend Phantom when she paused and reconsidered. Then she asked, "If you know that it was dangerous, why do you still hate him? Did he do something to you?"

"Yes!" Wes spat. "Even though I was fourteen and stupid, you know what he would do? He would transform in front of me and gloat that no one believed me! Like, I get that he had a secret identity but he laughed in my face because he thought it was funny that everyone thought I was lying! Not even my family— my brothers believed me! I was called 'the Crazy Weston' for years in high school!"

Steph pursed her lips. As a vigilante, she understood the importance of secret identities and Wes had almost purposefully endangered the lives of others by trying to reveal Phantom's. But it was true that Wes had only been fourteen when he found out, and Danny had no right to tease him when he should've just explained properly.

"... okay, I get that." She scooted over to press against him. Wes didn't react, still looking irritated. Steph continued, "But aren't you two friends now? I guess I find it weird that you still hate him after so long, especially when you guys help each other so much."

"I don't really care about Phantom. Danny is just an asshole," Wes growled.

Steph did not voice the fact that Wes could also occasionally be an asshole.

Wes must've noticed because he went silent and then he said, "But we're fine now or whatever. I have blackmail on him that I can use and he lets me do it. I'll protect him because he's a hero from my world and because he's our King, but I don't care if I'm rude or not. He owes me for those years of hell in high school."

Stephanie shrugged and then smiled, pressing herself against him again. "Well, it's not like I can say anything about your relationship with him. I just wanted to make sure you know about the importance of secret identities."

"I don't want to hear that from you, Miss Spoiler," Wes said, rolling his eyes but he uncurled his arms and then wrapped one around her, pulling her closer to kiss her hair.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, just cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. Learning something new about each other was always fascinating. Steph suddenly sighed.

"Y'know, I don't know how I didn't realize before, but you're really petty."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I—"

Wes began to rant and Steph couldn't help but laugh at his indignation. In the end, he attacked her with angry kisses until she was shrieking with laughter.

Her boyfriend may be petty and vindictive, but at the very least, he was all hers.

(Note: I actually love how the fandom characterize Wes and I especially LOVE how hostile Wes can be. People don't seem to realize that they created the perfect character to be a villain bc let's not forget that since Kyle Weston is headcanoned to be Jazz's age, Wes is in the perfect position to threaten Danny's loved ones, especially with how Danny seems to tease him a lot (which is probably infuriating). I imagine that Wes and Danny have a frenemy relationship (that is a little one-sided), but they will help each other if need to be. Imo, with how the phandom characterizes them both interacting, they are BOTH in the wrong.)

[daddyhimeros]

I’ve been around the kink space for about a decade now and I can’t help but notice a vibe shift in the community lately. It’s not that the people are any less lovely but everything feels a bit less vibrant, and I can’t help but to feel like a lot of it has to do with the world we live in right now.

I’m sure many people are feeling a bit uneasy at times with the content around all forms of submission and dominance, especially when we live in a world where the rights and freedoms of women, LGBTQ+, and minorities are being openly oppressed by what is a largely male and patriarchal group of politicians and the people who vote for them.

Interacting and indulging in power dynamics can feel a bit icky or in poor taste with all of the very real serious things that are happening. So how does one explore and still enjoy these types of exploration of power and sexuality?

It’s by remembering the differences between abusive behaviors vs personal autonomy. All kink is based on a foundation of consent. No matter how dirty you get in kink the way that it is enjoyable is when it is done because you WANT to do it and it is done with someone you WANT to do it with.

You don’t have to feel guilty about wanting to do any manner of dirty things. Even if in some cases those forms of play might seem to mirror those in which in a different context would be abusive. You are not asking to be abused and you are not encouraging or condoning abusive behavior. You are experiencing what you want to experience with someone you want to do it with who also enjoys playing the accompanying role.

For instance I find some forms of pain in consensual situations to be exciting and pleasurable. If my partner slapped me across the face in a fit of passion it would stimulate a rush of excitement and pleasure. It only has that effect because of the context I’m experiencing it in. I don’t consent to some random person coming up to me on the street and slapping me. That’s abuse.

You have a human right to explore and indulge in whatever roles, acts, and relationships you want to experience and enjoy. You have the right to your own autonomy to share these interests with like minded people. Taking part in this community is an act of freedom not an endorsement of abuse.

To take power, set, rules, abuse people physically and sexually in ways that they do not consent to stands diametrically in opposition to everything this community actually stands for.

Don’t let this current world and climate stop you from being who you are and exploring everything it means to be human. Being your authentic sell is the greatest act of rebellion, freedom, and resistance you can take part in and you should never feel guilty about it!

[reveriebae]

Unlikely Entwined

pairing(s) : Wooyoung x reader

word count : 7,653

genre : smut

synopsis : an arranged blind date with Wooyoung quickly becomes a game of manipulation and desire

warning(s) : unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, oral (f! receiving). Let me know if I missed something!

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

Wooyoung sat at the back of the cafe, arms crossed, leaning back in his chair with an air of boredom. His parents had been going on and on about how he needed to "settle down" and "meet someone worthy." So, here he was, stuck on this blind date they set up, waiting for you to show up. Truth be told, he couldn’t care less. If it were up to him, he’d be anywhere else but here. But no, he was here, and he was determined to make sure this "date" felt as unimportant as possible.

He glanced at his watch, tapping his fingers against the table impatiently, barely acknowledging the other people walking through the door. And then... there you were. You walked in, and for a moment, it was like the whole place went quiet. His eyes met yours, and something inside him stirred—just a small tug in his chest. What the hell? He quickly shook it off, muttering under his breath, "It’s just a date." He was sure that was all it was... right?

You walk slowly approaching him, "Wooyoung?" You ask, making sure you're not going to sit with the wrong person.

Wooyoung looked up, his gaze briefly scanning you before he leaned back, one eyebrow raised. He gave you a slow once-over, not bothering to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. His eyes flickered, almost a challenge, before he nodded, his voice cool and indifferent.

"Yeah, that's me," he replied, his tone casual as if he couldn’t care less. "You must be the one my parents set me up with," he added, his words dripping with sarcasm, though there was a glint of something else in his eyes as he watched you approach.

You nod as you take your seat, sweet smile never leaving your lips as you introduce yourself to him "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you, Wooyoung"

Wooyoung studied you for a moment, his eyes lingering just a little too long, before he casually leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The smirk on his face never faded, but there was a slight tilt to his head as if he was trying to figure you out.

"Y/N, huh?" He said, his tone playful yet guarded. "Nice to meet you, I guess." He couldn't help but notice how your smile stayed so sweet and effortless, like it was part of you. It was... different. But he wasn't going to admit that.

He gave a slight shrug, eyes flicking down to the menu in front of him. "So, you’re really doing this?" he asked, as though questioning whether you were really going to sit through this pointless date.

You tilt your head at the question, a chuckle leaves your lips "what do you mean?".

Wooyoung glanced up from the menu, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he met your gaze. The corner of his lips twitched into a grin, though it was laced with a hint of arrogance.

"I mean," he started, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk, "most people would bail on this kind of thing. It's not exactly... thrilling." He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him either way, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that your calm, confident attitude was a little different from what he expected. "You don’t seem like the type to just go along with whatever your parents want.".

"Do I look like that?" You smile, "but you're right, I never really agreed with something like this".

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening just a bit as he leaned in, clearly intrigued by your response. He studied you for a moment, his gaze sharp, trying to figure out what made you tick.

"I could tell," he said, his tone dripping with casual confidence. "You don’t exactly look like someone who just follows the rules." His eyes flickered briefly to your smile, something about it making him feel a little unsettled. He quickly brushed it off.

"But hey, I’m here now," he added with a shrug, "might as well make the most of it. So, what’s your story, Y/N? Why are you sticking around for this?".

"You really wanna know why?" Your smile turn a bit playful.

Wooyoung's eyes locked onto yours, the playful challenge in your tone piquing his interest more than he wanted to admit. He leaned forward slightly, the smirk still present but now with a touch of curiosity behind it.

"Yeah, I do," he replied, his voice low and almost teasing. "I’m all ears. If you’ve got a good reason, I might actually stick around for this." He gave you a half shrug, but there was something in the way he said it—like he wasn’t entirely sure whether he was playing with you or actually intrigued.

You look up for a bit, pretend to think as you meet his gaze again "When my mom showed me your picture..I just get interested, so that's why. How about you?".

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. His gaze shifted for a moment, like he was trying to process your answer, before it flicked back to you, sharper than before.

"Huh," he mused, the glint in his eyes almost unreadable. "So, my picture caught your attention, huh? I guess I can’t say I’m surprised." He chuckled, though there was a touch of arrogance in his voice. "As for me... I didn’t exactly choose this." His tone turned a little colder, but his eyes never left yours. "But I guess you’re interesting enough to keep me a little longer."

He leaned forward, his smile a bit more teasing now. "So, what’s next? You’re not just here for small talk, are you?".

You mirrored the way leans in "If you still wanna stay on your seat then, I'm in", you lean back to your seat as you read him. This person is a bit.. difficult?

Wooyoung’s smirk softened slightly at your bold response, though it quickly returned to its usual confident edge. He tilted his head, studying you with a look that suggested he was considering something, perhaps a little surprised by your willingness to go along with things without hesitation.

"You’re definitely different," he muttered, more to himself than you. He sat up straighter, eyes narrowing just slightly as he continued to read you, trying to figure out where you were coming from. Most people would’ve backed down by now, but there was something in the way you held yourself that kept him curious, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

"Alright," he said finally, leaning in a little closer, his voice just above a whisper, "I’m staying. But don’t think this means I’m all in for the fairy tale." He gave you a quick, almost challenging glance before leaning back, his cool demeanor never faltering. "You’ve got my attention, for now."

You can't help but just hold a bitter laugh that's trying to escape your lips, his arrogance is just making this all a bit more interesting. You feel like you want to..tame him. "Alright, what you doing on your daily? Are you work or maybe study?".

Wooyoung’s smirk never wavered, though he couldn’t help but notice the way your laugh caught him off guard. There was something about it—something about the way you responded—that intrigued him more than it should have. He straightened his posture slightly, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Study," he answered with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Mostly just that. Not that it’s any of your business," he added, though the challenge in his eyes told a different story. He could see the way you were reading him, trying to figure him out, and it made him almost... curious about what you’d do next.

"You don’t strike me as the studious type, though," he added, eyes narrowing slightly. "What about you?"

"Calm down buddy, I never judge people" You chuckle down your breath, "I'm a student too" You say calmly.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing just slightly at your response. There was something about the way you kept your cool that made him feel like he had to be even more careful with his words. It wasn’t like he was used to being treated so... casually. Most people would’ve been intimidated by his attitude by now, but not you.

He gave a small nod, pretending to think for a moment. "A student, huh?" His smirk returned as he leaned back again, clearly unfazed. "I guess that makes two of us then. But I’m guessing you’re not the ‘study all day’ type either." His gaze lingered for a moment, the playful challenge in his tone "So what’s your thing?"

"You're actually missed that one, I study a lot, cause my parents are kind of..strict" You cross your legs down the table "My thing? You mean..the major I take?".

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered with mild surprise at your response, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. He had expected you to be a little more carefree, maybe even rebellious like him, but the mention of strict parents and your commitment to studying caught him off guard. He couldn't help but feel a slight shift in his perception of you.

"Strict parents, huh?" he murmured, his tone almost thoughtful before he shrugged it off. "I guess that explains a lot." He leaned forward again, his smirk returning as he eyed you up and down, his curiosity piqued.

"Yeah, I meant your major," he said, the playful edge never leaving his voice. "What’s keeping you busy? Something that requires all that studying, I bet." His gaze lingered on you a bit longer than he intended, the cool, cocky exterior slipping just a touch.

You raised your eyebrows "For my major.. it's computer science, I don't tend to busy all day over studying, though. How about you? What major you took?".

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up slightly at your answer, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Computer science, huh?" He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest with a bit more interest in his posture. "Guess we’ve got something in common after all."

He gave a casual shrug, not missing a beat. "Same here. That’s my major too." His tone remained cool, but the fact that you shared something like that seemed to hold his attention a little longer than he expected. "Not that I’m exactly a model student," he added, his usual cocky air slipping back into place. "But, you know, I manage." He shot you a quick glance, his eyes scanning you carefully. "Seems like you’ve got your shit together though."

You shift a bit on the seat, don't know what to say. You give him a slight uninterested face after he keeps talking like that. You check the time on your watch.

Wooyoung noticed the shift in your demeanor, his smirk faltering just slightly as he watched you check the time. The disinterest in your expression didn’t go unnoticed, and for a second, he felt something he couldn’t quite place—a small flicker of curiosity, maybe even frustration.

He leaned forward again, his gaze intense as he lowered his voice, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Not feeling this anymore, or just checking the time to see how long I’ve got before you bail?" His eyes narrowed, but there was a challenge behind them, as if he were testing your patience, maybe even his own.

"You know," he added, his voice almost playful, "if you’re not interested, I could always take this elsewhere." His eyes flicked over you, searching for any sign that you might actually be considering leaving.

You smile, looking back at him. "Guess I don't have all day, but we still could keep in touch or maybe plan another date..only if you're interested, of course" You say as you put a piece of paper with your number in it. "Sorry for leaving first" You say politely as you head towards the exit door.

Wooyoung watched you carefully, his eyes lingering on the paper you slid toward him. There was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something almost unreadable. He picked up the paper, his gaze briefly following you as you turned to leave. For a moment, the cool exterior he kept up seemed to crack just a little, but he quickly masked it with a smirk.

"Leaving already?" he called after you, his voice a mix of amusement and something else he wasn’t quite ready to admit. "Guess I’ll see what’s on that paper later, then." His words were teasing, but there was a slight edge to them now.

He watched you walk out, the thought of what you said lingering in his mind longer than he wanted. What the hell was it about you? He shook his head, the smirk returning as he leaned back in his chair.

“Interesting," he muttered to himself.

--

It’s been three weeks since that date, and Wooyoung can’t shake the thought of you. He’s tried to focus on his studies, hang out with friends, and keep up his usual routine, but every time he closes his eyes or has a quiet moment, your smile, your words, and that damn piece of paper keep coming back to him. He’s not used to this feeling—not the nagging curiosity, the wanting, the need to reach out.

So, here he is now, sitting on his bed, phone in hand, staring at your number on the screen. His fingers hover over the keys, hesitant. He’s not the type to make the first move. He doesn't like feeling like he's pursuing anyone. But damn it, he has to know—if you really meant what you said, or if it was just some polite formality.

He types, deletes, and types again. The clock ticks, and the silence around him is almost suffocating. Finally, after a long pause, he hits send.

He sets the phone down on his desk and leans back in his chair, trying to act like he doesn’t care about the message he just sent. But deep down, he’s already waiting for your reply.

You don't pay attention to the notification bar as you doing your night skincare routine. After a few hours later you noticed his text, you type your reply after reading his message.

Wooyoung had been pacing his room, checking his phone more often than he cared to admit. When your reply finally came through, his heart jumped—a reaction he’d never admit to anyone, not even himself. He sat on the edge of his bed, rereading your message with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Took you long enough…" He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Typical. You were just as sharp as he remembered.

He quickly typed back, trying to keep his cool.

He hit send, leaning back against the wall with a smug grin. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he had the upper hand—or so he thought.

You tilt your head with a confused smile, this guy is all arrogant but his response is really fast.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he read your message. The way you called him out so subtly, it was like you could see right through him. He leaned back against his chair, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a second before he started typing.

He paused, smirking to himself as he added,

He hit send, leaning back with an almost cocky satisfaction, though the anticipation of your response made it hard to sit still.

You chuckle at his texts, left him on read for a few minutes to add some fun into it.

Wooyoung’s smirk widened as he stared at your reply, though he couldn’t help but notice the few minutes you left him on read. It was a small move, but damn, it worked—you had his full attention.

He hit send, leaning back with a satisfied grin, already planning how he’d make this second meeting even more memorable than the first.

"don't expect me to go easy on you this time...huh? Like I expect anything from you" You mumble to yourself. You throw your phone to the desk as you left him on read and go to sleep.

Wooyoung noticed the lack of response and saw that you’d read his message. His smirk faltered for a second, and he let out a small huff, tossing his phone onto his bed. "Playing hard to get now, huh?" he muttered under his breath, though he couldn’t deny that it only made him more intrigued.

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering to what you might say or do next. This wasn’t how things usually went for him—he was used to being the one in control. But with you, it was different. You weren’t giving him the satisfaction of predictability, and that was both frustrating and exciting.

Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Guess I’ll just have to make Friday worth it." Despite his arrogance, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation for whatever this was turning into.

Friday evening arrived faster than Wooyoung expected, and he found himself adjusting his jacket in the mirror, something he rarely cared to do. He glanced at the time—6:50 PM. He was never one to be early, but for some reason, he was already in his car, parked outside your place, debating whether to send you a text or wait.

Eventually, he leaned back in the driver’s seat, exuding his usual confidence as he typed :

He hit send, tossing his phone onto the passenger seat and tapping the steering wheel absentmindedly. He told himself it was just another night, but the tight grip he had on his usual composure said otherwise.

And on the other side there's you.. who's taking on their precious time. Pick a red dress and make your hair looks slightly wavy, glance at your phone not even bother to open his text. You walk down the stairs as you say goodbye to your parents then leave out the door.

Wooyoung glanced up from his phone as he heard the faint click of your heels on the pavement. His smirk faltered for a split second when he saw you stepping out, the red dress clinging to your figure and your wavy hair catching the soft glow of the evening light.

He quickly masked his surprise, leaning casually against his car door, arms crossed. "Took your time, huh?" he called out, his voice laced with mock annoyance, though his eyes betrayed him—they lingered on you just a bit too long.

You let a soft smile curve your lips as you approach him, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. "Well," you start, your voice teasing as you stop just in front of him, "some things are worth waiting for, don’t you think?".

He opened the car door for you, his smirk returning as he straightened up. "Red suits you," he added, his tone low but genuine, before quickly shifting back to his usual demeanor. "Let’s go before you decide to make me wait again."

Sliding into the car with ease, you glance up at him, catching his gaze before he closes the door. "And thank you," you say casually, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

As he settles into the driver’s seat, you look around, taking in the scent of his cologne that subtly lingers in the car. "So," you say, leaning back in your seat, your tone light but curious, "where are you taking me, Mr. Confident?"

Wooyoung started the car, his smirk firmly in place as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "Wouldn’t you like to know," he replied, his voice dripping with playful arrogance.

He turned his attention back to the road, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his face. "Let’s just say I’ve got a place in mind that’s… unexpected," he added, the cryptic edge to his words adding a layer of intrigue.

He drove in comfortable silence for a few moments before glancing at you again. "You trust me enough to let me surprise you, right?" His tone was teasing, but there was a subtle challenge in his eyes as if daring you to say otherwise.

You looked out the window as the car slowed down in front of a sleek, modern building illuminated by warm lights. Your eyes widened slightly as you noticed the sign: an upscale wine bar with an art gallery inside. The faint hum of soft jazz music drifted out as Wooyoung parked the car and stepped out, casually making his way to your side to open the door for you.

"Fancy, huh?" you said with a raised eyebrow, stepping out gracefully. "I wasn’t expecting this from you."

Wooyoung smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets as he led you toward the entrance. "What can I say? I like to keep you guessing." He glanced at you, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. "Besides, I figured you’d appreciate something with a bit more… class."

Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, the walls lined with abstract paintings and sculptures, each piece illuminated by soft spotlights. Couples and small groups sipped on glasses of wine, their conversations blending into the background as a live pianist played in the corner.

Wooyoung gestured toward the wine selection. "Pick your poison, Y/N. Or do I get the pleasure of choosing for you?" His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity as if he was genuinely curious to see what you’d pick.

You scanned the menu briefly before looking up at him with a small smile. "Red wine," you said confidently. "Something bold but smooth. I’ll let you choose which one, though."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Bold but smooth, huh?" He smirked, motioning for the waiter. "Got it. Let’s see if I can meet your expectations."

After a brief exchange with the waiter, he ordered a rich Merlot, his voice steady and decisive. As the waiter poured the wine, Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, watching you closely as you took the glass.

"So," he said, swirling his own wine before taking a sip. "Art and wine... not what you expected from me, was it?" His smirk softened into something almost genuine, his eyes flickering with curiosity. "What do you think? Did I pick the right vibe for you, or am I off the mark?"

You take a slow sip of the wine, your eyes scanning the art around them thoughtfully. After a moment, you place the glass back on the table and look at him, your expression is soft but your gaze is steady.

"It’s beautiful here," you say, your voice warm, almost vulnerable. "I didn’t think you’d take me somewhere like this... it feels like you’re trying."

Wooyoung watched as you placed your glass down, your words catching him off guard. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The softness in your tone was unexpected, but the subtle challenge behind your gaze intrigued him even more.

You lean back slightly, your lips curving into a faint smile, but there’s a spark in your eyes that keeps him guessing. "But I’m not sure if it’s for me or for you."

The statement hangs in the air, gentle but firm, leaving Wooyoung to wonder where he really stands in your mind.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, his smirk returning but with a hint of something deeper. "Maybe it’s both," he said, his voice low and deliberate.

He tilted his head, studying you carefully. "Or maybe I’m just trying to see if you’re as hard to figure out as you want me to think."

His eyes stayed locked on yours, the playful arrogance still there but softened by the curiosity he couldn’t hide. "What do you think, Y/N? Am I getting it right, or do I still have work to do?".

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze unwavering as you studied him in return. The way he leaned in, his confidence, yet the subtle vulnerability behind his words—it was like he was letting his guard down, even if just a little.

"You might be getting close," you said softly, letting your fingers trace the rim of your glass. "But I haven’t decided yet."

You let a small smile tug at your lips, leaning back in your chair. "Let’s just say… you’re doing better than I expected."

The room’s ambiance wrapped around the two of you, the soft jazz and murmurs of other patrons fading into the background. You crossed your legs gracefully, your eyes meeting his again. "But if you’re trying to figure me out, Wooyoung, I hope you know I’m not the kind of puzzle that comes with instructions."

Wooyoung’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening slightly as he leaned in closer, closing the distance between the two of you just enough to make your pulse quicken. The playful air around him shifted, taking on a more intense edge.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "Instructions are boring. I prefer a challenge."

He let his gaze linger on you, tracing every detail—the curve of your lips, the way your fingers toyed with the glass, the subtle confidence in your posture. "And you," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, "look like the kind of puzzle I wouldn’t mind spending all night figuring out."

The words hung in the air, charged with heat, as he reached for his own glass of wine, taking a slow sip while his eyes remained locked on yours. The corner of his mouth curled up into a slight smirk as he set the glass down.

"So, Y/N," he said, his tone teasing but unmistakably bold, "how much of you am I allowed to figure out tonight?".

Wooyoung’s eyes burned with an intensity that made the air around you feel heavier. He leaned even closer, his presence almost suffocating in its power, and the playful smirk on his lips began to fade into something much darker. His voice was a low, almost intoxicating drawl as he spoke again.

"I’m not just trying to figure you out, Y/N," he murmured, his words caressing your ear as he leaned in just enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. "I want to see how far I can push you."

His eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your gaze again, and there was a hunger there now, something raw and demanding. "How much can I make you want me before you break?".

You could feel the tension between you two, thick and electrifying. He was no longer playing coy—he was pushing, testing, and somehow, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in. The game had changed, and now it felt more like a dance on the edge of something dangerously close.

"So tell me, Y/N," he continued, his voice deep, almost a whisper, "are you ready to find out what it feels like to not just be figured out… but completely consumed?"

His fingers brushed lightly against your wrist, sending a shock of warmth through your body. You could feel the pull of temptation, the line between control and surrender blurring with every word, every touch.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words wrapped around you, the tension in the air thickening with each passing second. You didn’t look away, though—your eyes were locked onto his, sharp and unyielding. Your fingers gripped the edge of the table, as if trying to anchor yourself in the midst of the storm he was creating with his mere presence.

You felt the pulse in your wrist where his fingers brushed, and a shiver ran down your spine, despite the confident smile you kept on your lips. “You think you can push me?” you whispered, your voice steady, though it betrayed a hint of the heat swirling beneath the surface. “I’m not that easy, Wooyoung. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Your gaze shifted slightly, scanning his features with a boldness that matched his intensity. You leaned forward, just a bit, closing the space between, your body language daring him to push further. The challenge was clear in your eyes. You wasn’t backing down—not yet.

"You talk big," you said, your voice now a little lower, a little breathier, "but we both know words aren’t enough."

Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, your eyes never leaving his. There was a storm inside you now, a mix of intrigue and defiance, but beneath that was something more. Something raw.

"So, Wooyoung," you murmured, your voice soft but commanding, "show me how far you’re willing to go."

The challenge in your tone was unmistakable—you was daring him to cross the line, to make it real, to stop hiding behind words and see if he could actually match the intensity he so boldly spoke of.

The air between them crackled as the night moved on, the chemistry undeniable. Without another word, Wooyoung stood, his movements smooth, as if everything had already been decided. His eyes never left yours, as if daring you to stop him, to push back.

You rose to your feet too, not missing a beat, your smile now darker, more dangerous. You weren't just playing anymore. There was something in his gaze, in the way he held himself, that made your heart race and your body ache with anticipation.

He didn't need to say anything more as he walked toward the exit, his strides long and confident. You followed without hesitation, feeling the weight of the moment between you both. Neither of you needed to speak-it was clear that you were both on the same path now, heading toward a destination where neither one of you could hold back anymore.

Once outside, Wooyoung glanced over at you, his smirk returning as he guided you into his car. The drive was silent, but the tension thickened with each passing minute, the space between you feeling smaller, heavier. His hand occasionally brushed against yours as he shifted gears, and every time, it felt like an electric current ran between you both, pulling you closer to the edge.

As he parked in a quiet, secluded spot, the engine cut off, leaving only the sound of your breath, heavy and quick in the confined space. He turned to you, his eyes dark with intent, and before you could speak, he was already there, his lips crashing against yours with a rawness that stole the breath from your lungs.

The kiss was unlike anything before-it was hungry, demanding, both of you pushing and pulling at the same time. His hand found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his fingers trailing along your skin like fire. You responded in kind, your hands finding his neck, tugging him closer, feeling the heat of his body against yours.

"I told you," Wooyoung whispered between kisses, his voice rough, "I don't play games."

You pulled back slightly, your breath coming in ragged bursts, eyes burning with the same fire. "Neither do I," you shot back, your voice thick with desire.

Without another word, you both seemed to fall into each other, the tension finally snapping as your bodies came together, every touch, every kiss, igniting something primal between you both. The night had shifted-there was no more games, no more pretense. It was just the two of you, everything else fading away in the heat of the moment.

He pulled out a bit, "Let's move to somewhere more spacey" he pointed to the backseat with his thumb, you nod.

The air inside the car was thick, suffocating with heat, with need. Every inch of space between you and Wooyoung felt like too much, and when he finally touched you, dragging you into the backseat, you swore your body had already surrendered before you even realized it.

His hands were all over you the moment the door shut, gripping, teasing-his fingers trailing up your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress with excruciating slowness. His breath was warm against your neck as he murmured, "Lacey? Just how I like it." A smirk played on his lips, dark and knowing.

A whimper slipped past your lips as his fingers pressed against your clothed core, rubbing slow, lazy circles that had you trembling. Instinctively, you bit your lip, trying to hold back the noises threatening to spill out, but a sharp smack to your ass had a yelp escaping instead.

"Don't hold back on me, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with amusement, but there was something darker beneath it—something hungry. "I want to hear exactly how good I'm making you feel."

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, teasing you mercilessly until your panties were soaked through. With a low hum of approval, he pulled them aside, and the second the cool air hit your slick folds, Wooyoung wasted no time. His tongue dragged along your slit in a slow, deliberate stripe, sending a violent shudder through your body.

"Oh— fuck... please," you gasped, barely able to form words as he devoured you like a man starved.

His hands spread you open further, his mouth working you with obscene precision—sucking, licking, flicking his tongue over your clit until your thighs shook uncontrollably. The filthy slurping sounds only made it worse, made you clench around nothing as desperate moans spilled from your lips.

"Oh my god! Fuck—fuck, Wooyoung!"

Your back arched, hands gripping onto the seat as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. You were close—too close, and when his lips wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked hard, you shattered.

Your whole body convulsed, a strangled sob leaving your lips as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Wooyoung held you still, his grip unrelenting as he drank up every last drop

Wooyoung didn’t stop, even as you trembled beneath him, your body weak and overstimulated. His tongue dragged over your swollen folds, slow, teasing, tasting every bit of you. Your breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping when he gave your clit one last suck before finally pulling away.

His lips were glistening, his nose damp, and the way he licked the corner of his mouth sent another wave of heat rushing through your veins. “Nice and sweet,” he murmured, his fingers squeezing your ass possessively.

The sound of his zipper being undone made your stomach tighten in anticipation. You barely had a second to catch your breath before you felt it—the thick, leaking tip of his cock rubbing against your entrance, teasing, spreading your wetness over himself.

“Look at you,” he mused, voice dripping with satisfaction. “All whiny and messy just for me.”

A shudder ran through you as he pushed in, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs. He was thick—too thick, and you had to bite your hand to stifle the cry that tore from your throat.

“Fuck, you’re thick—” Your words were broken, breathless.

Wooyoung chuckled darkly, gripping your hips as he bottomed out, forcing you to take every inch of him. “You can handle it,” he said, his tone laced with amusement, though his voice was tight, strained.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you still as he gave you a moment to adjust, but the way he throbbed inside you made it clear—his patience wouldn’t last long. A breathless chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled out just an inch before slamming back in, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

“We’ve only met twice,” he murmured, dragging his cock out of you agonizingly slow before sinking back in, “and look how fucking wet you are for me.”

Your walls clenched around him at his words, earning a sharp hiss from him as he gripped your ass harder.

He set a brutal rhythm—deep, unrelenting thrusts that had your body jerking forward with every snap of his hips. The sound of skin slapping filled the car, mingling with your breathless moans and his low groans.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his hand sliding up your spine before gripping your hair, pulling your head back just enough to make you arch for him. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your fingers clawed at the seat, your body trembling with each thrust. The angle had him hitting just the right spot inside you, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins.

“Too much—” you gasped, though you didn’t want him to stop.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as his lips ghosted over your ear. “Too much?” he mocked, his voice a taunting whisper. “Then why are you squeezing me so tight, hmm?”

A desperate whimper was all you could manage before he snapped his hips even harder, dragging a sob of pleasure from your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening. “Let me hear you.”

Wooyoung's chuckle was low, smug as he kept up his relentless pace, dragging his cock out almost completely before slamming back in, filling you to the hilt. Your moans came out broken, helpless, the pleasure overwhelming, but he loved it—loved the way you melted under his touch, how your body responded so perfectly to him.

His hand slid from your hip to your lower stomach, pressing down just enough for you to feel the way he stretched you out from the inside. "Feel that, baby?" he murmured against your ear, his breath hot, teasing. "Feel how deep I'm inside you?"

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as another whimper spilled from your lips. The pressure, the way he filled every inch of you—it was too much, too good.

His other hand found its way to your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles that had your thighs trembling. "You're taking me so well," he praised, his lips ghosting over the back of your neck. "Such a good girl for me."

Your fingers dug into the leather seat, your body arching as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself unraveling, pleasure coiling so tight it was impossible to hold back.

"Fuck—Wooyoung, I—"

He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up—if anything, he fucked into you harder, his hand tightening around your waist to keep you right where he wanted you. "Come for me, baby," he groaned, his voice laced with hunger. "I want to feel you—fuck, I want you to squeeze my cock just like that."

And just like that, you shattered.

Your body tensed before the pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave of euphoria ripping through you as your walls pulsed around him, milking his cock. Your moans were loud, desperate, but Wooyoung drank up every sound, watching you come undone beneath him.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. "So fucking pretty when you fall apart for me."

But he wasn’t done. Not yet.

His grip tightened, his pace turning erratic, and within moments, his groans grew heavier, more strained. "Fuck—I'm gonna—"

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, his breath shuddering as he spilled inside you, filling you up completely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him as he rode out his high, his lips pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder.

For a moment, all you could hear was your mingled breaths, the air thick with heat and satisfaction. Then, after a beat of silence, Wooyoung let out a husky chuckle.

"Told you I don’t play games, baby."

Wooyoung stayed inside you for a moment, catching his breath, his hands still gripping your waist possessively. His lips brushed against your bare shoulder, leaving soft, lazy kisses in contrast to how roughly he had just fucked you.

“You took me so well,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles on your skin. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body was still trembling, sensitive from your release, but you barely had a second to process his words before he shifted his hips—still buried deep inside you. A sharp gasp left your lips as he rolled his hips, slow, teasing, making you feel every inch of him again.

"W-Wooyoung—too much," you whined, your body twitching as the overstimulation hit you hard.

He tsked, his hand sliding up your back, pressing you down further against the seat. “Too much?” he echoed, mock sympathy dripping from his tone. “You can take it, baby. I know you can.”

Then, without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty for a split second before flipping you onto your back. Your dazed eyes met his, and the way he looked at you—dark, hungry, possessive—sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach.

“Wanna see that pretty face while I ruin you,” he murmured, pushing your legs open with ease. His cock, still thick and slick with your combined arousal, pressed against your entrance again, teasing, testing.

Your hands gripped his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he pushed in slowly this time, letting you feel every inch stretching you open once more. Your back arched, a breathless moan spilling from your lips as he filled you again.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice strained as he bottomed out. "Taking me so perfectly."

His pace was slow but deep, deliberate, making sure you felt everything. Every drag of his cock against your walls sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further apart, watching the way you took him so beautifully.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Completely fucked out, and I’ve barely even started.”

You couldn’t respond—not when his pace started to pick up again, his thrusts turning sharper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. Your moans turned into desperate cries, your hands clawing at his back as he took you apart all over again.

"Gonna come for me again, baby?" he rasped, his grip on you tightening. "Go on, let me feel you."

And just like before, you shattered beneath him, your body convulsing as pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling, breathless. Wooyoung followed soon after, groaning your name as he spilled inside you once more, his body shuddering against yours.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your heavy breathing, the warmth of his body pressing against you. Then, he smirked down at you, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

"Think that was enough for our second date?" he teased, his voice husky. "Or should I make sure you never forget it?".

---

The soft clinking of utensils and warm laughter filled the dining room as both families gathered around the large table. It was supposed to be a simple family dinner, a way to "check in" after setting up you and Wooyoung on that fateful blind date weeks ago. Neither of you had said much about it to your families, leaving everyone curious.

You sat across from Wooyoung, your eyes occasionally flickering toward him. He was seated casually, his usual confidence toned down in the presence of the parents, but his gaze kept finding yours. Each shared look was a quiet conversation, a secret neither of you was ready to spill just yet.

As the night went on, the parents began reminiscing about the setup. "We thought the two of you would at least stay in touch," Your mom said, her tone teasing.

"Yeah," Wooyoung's dad added, nudging him slightly. "You haven’t mentioned her much, son. Did you scare her off with your attitude?"

Wooyoung chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck—a rare moment of nervousness. Before he could answer, You stepped in, your voice soft but steady. "Actually, we’ve been... spending some time together."

The room went quiet for a moment, all eyes now on you. Wooyoung met your gaze, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips before he added, "Yeah, we have. And, well... I’d say things are going pretty well."

The parents exchanged excited looks, the kind only matchmaking parents could share. Your mom clasped her hands together, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, that’s wonderful! We knew you two would hit it off!"

"Don’t get ahead of yourselves," Wooyoung said with a smirk, though his tone was gentle. He glanced at you, his expression softening. "We’re just... taking things slow."

You nod, your cheeks warm but your smile unwavering. Under the table, Wooyoung’s hand brushed against yours briefly, a silent reassurance that made your heart flutter.

As the conversation shifted back to other topics, the atmosphere became lighter, filled with laughter and warmth. You and Wooyoung exchanged one more look, this time without hesitation.

Maybe this whole setup wasn’t so bad after all.

[mintyys-blog]

BRAT TAMER— dark! bucky barnes x brat! stark! reader

WARNINGS: alcohol, suggestive scenes, age gap, power imbalance, brat behaviour, dark themes, tramp stamp, harassment, swearing, SMUT.

MINORS DNI

You knew exactly what you were doing.

The moment you stepped into the Avengers Tower, heels clicking against the pristine marble floors, every pair of eyes flicked to you. Not that you cared. In fact, you reveled in it. The attention. The annoyance. The way your father, Tony Stark, ran a hand down his face the second he saw your outfit—if it could even be called that.

A tiny crop top, barely-there shorts, and heels that made your legs look like they went on forever.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath.

You smirked, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you waltzed past him like you owned the place. “Daddy, that’s not a very warm welcome,” you pouted. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Do you ever dress appropriately? Just once?”

You scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”

Truthfully, you liked pushing his buttons. You’d been doing it for years, and it never got old. Tony Stark, billionaire genius, could handle aliens, mad scientists, and world-ending threats—but his own daughter? A nightmare in designer heels.

“Where’s Morgan?” you asked, though you didn’t really care.

“In her room. And don’t—”

Too late. You were already walking in that direction.

Tony sighed, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky, who had been watching the interaction silently. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

Bucky’s stare lingered as you disappeared down the hallway. You had that effect on people—especially men. And you knew it.

Morgan adored you.

Which was the problem.

She was ten, all wide eyes and admiration, soaking up every little thing you did like a sponge. And Tony? He hated it.

You sat on her bed, lazily scrolling through your phone as she rattled on about school, her friends, some dumb science project Tony was helping her with. You weren’t really listening.

“Can I do my hair like yours?” Morgan asked suddenly, eyes shining with hope.

You smirked. “You wanna be like me, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Tony’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, she doesn’t.”

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Morgan, go get ready for dinner,” he said firmly.

Morgan hesitated, looking between the two of you before reluctantly nodding and slipping out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the influence you don’t want?”

Tony stepped inside, lowering his voice. “I mean it, Y/N. She looks up to you. I won’t let you screw her up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Dad. I’m not telling her to go rob a bank.”

“No, but you are showing up dressed like that,” he shot back. “Parading around like you have no responsibilities, blowing through money like it’s endless—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, smirking.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Nothing,” you said simply, standing up and stretching, the hem of your top riding up just to be provocative. “Because I don’t live under your roof anymore, remember?”

You walked past him, brushing against his shoulder as you left.

And just like that, you were gone.

Later that night, Bucky found you at the bar.

You were perched on a stool, sipping a martini, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for prey.

He slid onto the stool beside you, silent at first. You noticed him, of course. How could you not? He was hard to ignore—tall, broad, that metal arm glinting under the dim lights.

“Well, well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a bar kind of guy.”

Bucky shrugged, eyes flickering over your outfit. “Didn’t take you for the kind of girl who needs attention to survive.”

You grinned. “Oh, but I do. What’s life without a little fun?”

“Fun,” Bucky repeated, tone unreadable. “That what you’re looking for?”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar, chin propped in your hand. “Depends. You offering?”

His jaw tensed. You were pushing. Flirting. Teasing. And you knew it was working.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice low.

You smirked. “Isn’t it?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart.”

You arched a brow. “Or what?”

He didn’t answer. Just took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering on you.

Breaking the Brat

Part Two

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

Bucky didn’t play your game.

That was the first thing that set him apart from the others.

Most men—especially the older ones—were predictable. Easy to manipulate. A bat of your lashes, a sultry smile, a teasing touch, and they’d trip over themselves to get what you wanted.

But Bucky? He saw right through it.

And that? That made you want to play even more.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” You leaned in, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

Bucky glanced at you, unimpressed. “You really think you’re a challenge?”

You pouted. “Aw, that’s cute. You think I’m easy?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I think you’re loud. And desperate for attention.”

Your smirk didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are, giving it to me.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just took another sip of his drink, jaw tight.

That’s what intrigued you the most.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to snap, to put you in your place. You could see it in his eyes. The restraint. The discipline. It was a game of tug-of-war, and you were determined to win.

“So, tell me,” you mused, twirling the olive in your martini between your fingers. “What does a guy like you do for fun?”

Bucky didn’t blink. “Nothing you’d survive.”

A thrill shot through you.

“You don’t know what I can handle,” you said, licking the martini off your lips.

His gaze flickered there, just for a second. A small victory.

Then, he downed the rest of his drink and stood.

“Go home, kid.”

Kid.

The word sent a rush of irritation through you.

You weren’t a kid. You were a woman. A woman who could make grown men fall at her feet. A woman who could ruin a man if she wanted to.

And yet, Bucky Barnes just brushed you off like an inconvenience.

How dare he?

You watched him walk away, the muscles in his back flexing under his shirt. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t give you the satisfaction.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something foreign settle in your chest.

Frustration.

The next few weeks were fun.

For you, anyway.

You pushed. Bucky ignored. You flirted. He scoffed. You touched, teased, invaded his space—nothing.

He was a wall. Unshakable. Unmoved.

It only made you worse.

You made sure to wear the shortest skirts when you knew he was around. The highest heels. The tightest tops. You batted your lashes, brushed your fingers against his arm, pressed close to whisper things that weren’t exactly appropriate.

Still, nothing.

But you weren’t an amateur at this game.

Men had limits. And you were going to find his.

Tony had given up on you. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as you scrolled through your phone.

“What now?” You didn’t bother looking up.

“You know exactly what. Do I need to spell it out? The credit card charges. The tabloids. The—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “The fucking tramp stamp!”

You smirked, tilting your head. “You like it?”

Tony clenched his jaw. “You got it two hours after I told you not to.”

“Your point?”

He muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, kid.”

Your smirk faltered. There it was again. Kid. First Bucky, now Tony. You weren’t a child.

And you were going to prove it.

That night, you went too far.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

The compound was quiet. Late. Most of the team had turned in for the night, but you knew Bucky was still awake.

You found him in the gym. Alone.

He was mid-rep, lifting weights that made your arms ache just looking at them.

You leaned against the doorway, watching, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Wow,” you drawled. “Those arms could do some damage.”

Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge you.

You stepped inside, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

Nothing.

You let out a dramatic sigh, strutting over to where he stood. “Ignoring me again? Starting to think you don’t like me, Barnes.”

He finished his set, setting the weights down with a quiet thud.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

You stepped closer, trailing a manicured nail down his metal arm. “I bet you could wrap this around my throat and snap it like a twig.”

That got him. Bucky’s head snapped toward you, eyes dark.

Oh, that was satisfying.

“You wanna test that theory?” His voice was low. Dangerous. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t stupid. You knew when you were poking a bear. But that was half the fun.

“I dunno,” you mused, pressing closer. “Might be fun.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. You could practically see him forcing himself to relax.

Then, he turned and walked away. Just like that. No reaction. No anger. No fire.

It was… disappointing. Until he spoke.

“You should be careful, Y/N.” You frowned. “Of what?”

Bucky stopped at the door, back still to you. “Of what happens when I finally stop holding back.” Then, he was gone.

You stood there for a long moment, staring after him. And for the first time, your smirk faded. Because for the first time, you wondered… Had you finally pushed too far?

It had been a week since Bucky’s warning. A week of silence.

You were used to attention—hell, you craved it—but this was different. The absence of Bucky’s usual snarky responses, his cold stares, his barely-contained tension—it was unsettling. You found yourself looking for him more than you cared to admit. You’d cornered Tony about it. “Where’s Bucky? He’s been MIA.”

Tony didn’t even look up from his work. “I don’t know. Probably avoiding you.”

“Really?” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You think so?”

Tony finally glanced up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Look, kid. I get it. He’s a good guy, but I’m not letting you run around playing your little games with him. Bucky’s not your usual prey.”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “I’m not a damn animal, Dad.” Tony didn’t flinch. “You sure about that?”

Two nights later, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

The Tower was dark, quiet—everyone else was either gone or asleep. You knew Bucky would be up, alone, in the gym. He was predictable like that.

You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting yourself.

A tight black leather jacket, a low-cut tank top that barely covered your chest, and black ripped jeans. Nothing too out there, but enough to make a statement.

Perfect.

You made your way down the long hallway, heels tapping softly on the floors, feeling the familiar rush of power as you approached the gym.

And there he was.

Bucky was lifting weights, his movements precise and fluid, his concentration unwavering. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the chance to observe.

He was different tonight. His body was tense, his jaw set as he worked through each set like a machine. But it was more than that. There was something in his eyes—something predatory.

And it made you want to push him.

You sauntered into the room, your presence noticeable, but Bucky didn’t look up. He kept going, each lift smoother than the last, each breath steady and controlled.

It was like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t like that.

“Why so serious?” you purred, stepping closer, your voice dripping with a flirtation you didn’t bother to hide.

Bucky paused for a moment, finally glancing at you. But he didn’t respond.

You took it as a challenge.

“You know,” you continued, sliding your hands down your sides provocatively, “if you need some motivation, I could give you a reason to work a little harder.”

Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, his gaze unreadable.

“Come on, Barnes,” you cooed, moving closer, your breath warm against the cool air of the gym. “What’s it going to take to get a rise out of you?”

This time, he spoke. His voice was low and measured, like a warning. “You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N.”

You smirked. “I like the danger.”

Bucky finally set the weights down, his movements slow but purposeful. He stepped toward you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Frustration? Or something more?

“Last warning, kid,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist before you could react, his grip firm but controlled.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “What are you going to do if I don’t listen, huh? Hit me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his body. It was palpable, like a string pulled tight, waiting to snap.

“I warned you,” Bucky growled, voice gravelly.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch.

And there it was—the raw, unfiltered power.

You knew you were pushing him, but this time, you didn’t care.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, but laced with a dangerous edge. “And I don’t think you fully understand the consequences.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Try me.”

Bucky leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You won’t like the outcome.”

But you weren’t listening. You never were.

You let your fingers trail down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt, pressing yourself closer to him. “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said softly, letting the challenge hang between you like a spark waiting to ignite.

His hand tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the wall and turning you to face him fully. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable, like an ocean storm waiting to break.

“You think I’m just going to let you walk all over me?” His voice dropped an octave, as if he were tasting every word. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rising between you, the crackling tension unmistakable. For the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip—a flicker of something dangerous. And it made you want more.

“You think you can handle me?” you whispered, your lips inches from his. Without warning, Bucky kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was fierce—passionate, like he was claiming what was his. And you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but the fire in his gaze only intensified. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice dark with intent.

You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And when you get burned, don’t come crying to me.” You shrugged, unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”

The next morning, you barely slept.

Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Bucky’s cold, intense stare—the way his hand had felt on your wrist, the heat of his lips against yours.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed someone with that much force, but it was the first time you felt… controlled.

And you hated it.

You didn’t like being controlled. You liked to be in charge. Always.

So why did the feeling linger? Why did the thought of Bucky’s hands on you—firm, unrelenting—cause a flutter in your chest?

You shook the thought away, brushing your hair back as you stood in front of the mirror. It was just a kiss. Just a moment. You didn’t need to make it anything more.

You picked out an outfit: a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, heels high enough to make your legs look longer than they were. You liked the way the dress clung to your curves, the way it accentuated everything Bucky had noticed last night.

This was a power play. A challenge. And Bucky? He was your target. You stormed out of your room, determined to confront him.

The gym was quiet again when you entered, the hum of the equipment filling the silence. You saw Bucky, of course. He was always here, always training, always keeping to himself. But today, he didn’t look at you when you walked in.

Not at first.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, though. He could feel you, even without looking. The game hadn’t ended last night—it had only just begun.

You walked toward him, a calculated sway in your hips. You made sure to stop just behind him, letting the scent of your perfume reach his nose, just close enough that he couldn’t ignore your presence any longer.

“Morning, Bucky,” you said, leaning over slightly, letting the fabric of your dress stretch just enough to make him notice.

He stopped mid-set, his fingers wrapping around the barbell before he set it down. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face you. His gaze was icy, but there was something more there now—a flicker of something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted to be.

“What do you want?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it.

You grinned, stepping closer. “I thought we could talk.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You smirked, leaning in a little closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “About last night.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you, Y/N—”

“You told me a lot of things.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But you didn’t tell me you’d be so rough. So… possessive.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re pushing it,” he warned, his tone deadly serious now.

“Am I?” You tilted your head, pretending to be innocent, but you saw the way his eyes flashed, the tension in his body that told you he was on the edge. “I think you like it, Bucky. I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. He didn’t let go, not yet. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, Bucky,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to regret anything.”

This time, when you looked up at him, there was no teasing in your gaze. There was only a challenge. A dare.

Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath, like he was trying to calm himself. Then, slowly, he released your wrist.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. “And I don’t think you realize just how dangerous it is.”

You stepped back, keeping your eyes on him. “I can handle danger.”

Bucky stared at you, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something possessive, something that made your heart race.

But then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

“Keep pushing, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, his tone deadly serious. “And I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “I’m counting on it.”

The next few days were a blur.

Bucky was everywhere you went. He was there when you went to the gym, there when you walked past the training room, there when you entered the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly following you, but he was always within your sight. Always within your reach.

And it drove you crazy.

You didn’t get what it was. You didn’t get why he was always near, always present. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction either. He was… patient.

And that was something you weren’t used to.

You tried everything. You wore the sexiest outfits. You made flirtatious comments. You pushed every button you knew would make him snap.

But Bucky just watched you. Always watchful. Always calm.

The lack of reaction was maddening.

But it was that last night—when you were so tired of being ignored—that you decided to confront him. You were done waiting.

The Tower was empty again, except for you and Bucky. You knew he’d be in the gym again—he always was.

When you walked in, you didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.

It was desperate. It was messy.

It was exactly what you wanted.

Bucky froze for a moment, not expecting it, but when he didn’t pull away, when he kissed you back with an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body, you realized—maybe this time, you weren’t the one in control.

Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, but he didn’t pull you away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more force than you were used to, his hands now roaming, pulling you closer.

When he pulled away, his eyes were dark, and his voice was low, husky. “I warned you, Y/N.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of power. “Yeah, well, I don’t listen.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. “You will. Eventually.”

Breaking the Brat

Part Six

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

The days following that night felt like a tightrope walk—one wrong move, and you would fall. But there was something intoxicating about it. Bucky had made it clear he was done tolerating your behavior, but the power dynamic between you both had shifted. There was no going back, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

Bucky didn’t let things slide, though. You could feel his presence everywhere you went, like a constant reminder of your recklessness. His eyes followed you. The way he looked at you, all sharp edges and unspoken threats, had you on edge in ways you never imagined.

The next time you saw him, you weren’t sure how things would play out. It was a casual party at Tony’s mansion, the kind of event that usually left you feeling invincible. But tonight, something was different. Bucky had been quieter than usual, lurking in the background, watching you as you flitted from one person to another. You could feel his gaze, like a weight on your back. But you weren’t going to let it bother you. You were untouchable, weren’t you?

The music was loud, the room filled with the usual mix of celebrities, billionaires, and socialites. You could already feel your heels digging into the floor as you made your way to the bar, a playful smirk on your lips. You weren’t about to let Bucky’s behavior dictate how you had fun.

But, of course, Bucky was there. Watching. Always watching.

You noticed him in the corner, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He was talking to Steve, but his eyes never left you. Every move you made, every glance you cast, every word you said, seemed to send a ripple through him. It was driving you crazy, the way he had this hold on you. You could feel the tension between you both, building like a slow burn.

And then, just like before, you saw him. The older man, tall, graying hair, expensive suit. He was alone at the bar. Perfect.

You walked over, letting the sway of your hips catch his attention. He looked up, eyes widening as they took you in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, a hint of admiration behind it.

You leaned against the bar, giving him a sly smile. “Just looking for someone to have some fun with. You seem like you might be a good candidate.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass as he studied you. “I think I could be persuaded.”

The instant his hand landed on your waist, you knew you had him. He was eating out of your palm, just like you wanted. But then you caught Bucky’s stare from across the room. He was rigid now, his eyes narrowed, his face tense with something that could have been fury—or something worse.

You felt a thrill rush through you.

You led the older man to the couch in the corner, barely glancing back at Bucky. You wanted him to feel it. The jealousy, the frustration, the helplessness. You wanted him to see you as something untouchable, something out of his control.

But before the man could do anything more than adjust his tie, Bucky appeared in front of you, his cold gaze fixed on the older man for a split second before he turned back to you. His voice was sharp, barely contained. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

You looked up at him, your lips curling into an innocent smile, though you could tell from the vein popping in his neck that he wasn’t playing anymore. “I’m not done here yet,” you said, but there was no mistaking the challenge in your tone.

Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you gasp. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He jerked you to your feet, dragging you past the man who was still trying to process the sudden intervention.

“Bucky—”

“You think you can flirt your way into whatever you want, don’t you?” His voice was low, each word like a warning. “You think this game is funny, but you’re out of your depth.”

You pulled your wrist from his grip, but the way he was looking at you made you feel cornered, trapped in a way that only fueled your defiance. “Maybe I just like making you mad,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the challenge in your voice.

“Is that it? You get off on making me angry?” His eyes darkened, the tension between you both thickening with each passing second.

You tilted your head, the playful edge in your voice never wavering. “Maybe I do.”

For a brief moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence crackling like a live wire. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the heat building between you both, thick and heavy. But just as quickly, Bucky’s expression shifted.

He grabbed your arm again, this time not in anger, but with a calculated force. He was done with the game.

Without a word, he dragged you to a private room, locking the door behind you. The silence inside felt suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his presence, pressing in on all sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, the words coming out through gritted teeth. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed, still maintaining your playful attitude.

“What? He was just a little older than usual. What’s the harm in flirting with someone who can buy me anything I want?” Bucky’s eyes burned with frustration as he took a step closer, crowding you against the wall.

“The harm is that you’re reckless. That man was old enough to be your father. What the hell are you trying to prove?” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between you both crackling like electricity. But you weren’t scared—not even a little.

“Are you mad that I wasn’t flirting with you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling the rush of satisfaction return. You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and kissed his jaw softly, just enough to leave your lips tingling with the sensation of his skin. Bucky stiffened at the contact, his expression flickering for a moment before his jaw clenched.

“This isn’t a game, Y/N,” he growled. “You think you can toy with me like that? I don’t give a damn about who you’re flirting with, but don’t be reckless.” You smirked, stepping back slightly, letting your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “So what, you’re going to punish me for having a little fun? You don’t get to control me, Bucky.”

You were too close to him now, too close to that dangerous edge. The way he was looking at you… it was like a warning. You could feel the tension in his body, in the way his hands gripped your wrists like he was trying to anchor himself.

“You’ve made your point, Y/N,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “But you’re not going to keep doing this. Not while I’m around.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Bucky stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.” His voice was tight, every word soaked with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “You think you can keep pushing me? Keep playing games with me? I’m not like the other men you’ve been with.”

You laughed, though there was a nervous tremor behind it. “Oh, I know. You’re different. You’re better.”

His lips curled into a dark smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you for much longer.”

And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You pushed off the wall, your hand reaching out to tug at his shirt. “Then make me stop, Bucky,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a low growl, his lips crashed against yours. It was harsh, unrelenting. His grip on your arms was firm, his body pressing you against the wall as if he were determined to break you.

And, in a way, he was.

Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. His metal fingers brushed your jaw, cold against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. His touch wasn’t soft—it was controlling, deliberate.

You should have been scared.

You weren’t.

Instead, you smirked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief, waiting to see how far you could push him. “You gonna lecture me all night, old man, or are you just mad I got someone else’s attention?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His thumb traced your lower lip again, slower this time, like he was testing something—testing you. “That what you wanted? To make me jealous?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs. “Seemed like it worked.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your chin suddenly dropped, only for his hands to find your hips instead. Without warning, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. The cold surface met your palms, your breath hitching as he leaned in close, his chest flush against your back.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dangerously low. “You think this is a game? Flirting with men like that, just to get a rise out of me?”

You swallowed hard, though you kept up the act, arching your back slightly, pressing yourself against him just to see how far you could push him. “You make it too easy, Sarge.”

Bucky let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His metal hand gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was reminding you of the difference between the two of you. “You think you’re untouchable ‘cause you’re a Stark? That daddy’s money keeps you safe?”

You turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing the wall, a defiant glint in your eyes. “So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?”

Bucky’s hand slid lower, gripping your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers squeezed, just enough to make your breath catch. “Someone has to,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

The tension crackled between you like a live wire, thick with something neither of you wanted to name. His fingers flexed against your skin, as if he was holding himself back, teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Then, just as suddenly as he had pressed you against the wall, he pulled back.

You spun around, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “That’s it?” you taunted, tilting your head. “All that talk, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice quieter than before, but twice as dangerous, he said, “who said I was walking away?” The door clicked, signalling it being locked. His dark eyes found yours once more, he closed the space between you both.

His hands were gripping your body, and you pressed your chest into his. Your tongues intertwined and grinding your body against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he picks you up and sets you on the table, hiking up your dress to your waist. He pauses, “no panties? Naughty girl..” you squeaked when his cold metal fingers dipped inside your warm wet walls.

You gasped his name, as he pumped his fingers continuously. He added another finger, you whined at the stretch “Buck— its s’much”

“Shut up and take it, you were so desperate before now you crumble at my fingers?” He asked mockingly. He sucked on your neck, he didn’t care for being gentle, you didn’t deserve it— and you didn’t want it. You like the roughness, the control he had over you. You squeezed down on his fingers, your body twitching. “You gonna cum doll?” You moaned, “yes”

Right when you were about to he pulled out, staring down at you with a cold look. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. If you want to— beg me.”

Your eyes widened, really? He was making you bed for it? As if!

He resumed pumping his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your throat tightly— not enough to block air restriction. You would feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and right when you were about to cum again— he pulled out. You whined, “bucky..!”

“Beg or you don’t get to cum.”

You glared, not believing him. Until he did it again, and again. He was edging you and you were about to lose your mind. “Please.. bucky”

“Please what,doll?” He smirked, “please let me cum!” Satisfied, he thrust his fingers in once more, finally bringing you to an orgasm. You screamed his name, luckily the loud music outside prevented it from being heard from the party. “Good girl..” he kissed your head as you panted.

Then he flipped you over, pressing your head into the table. “Bucky!” You gasped. He slapped your ass, watching as it ripples. He gently touches the spot that he hit, it slowly turning a red colour. “I know you like that so don’t even try to hide it, doll” you whined once more, and without warning, he thrust inside.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts to scream his name. He fucks you senseless, listening as you get cock drunk— to stupid and fucked out to comprehend his words. Degrading you and he occasionally smacked your ass, his hips roughly snapping into yours. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back and pressing your back to his chest. He grabs your head and turns it to face him, kissing your mouth.

You feel yourself slipping, on the verge of climaxing again. “You look so pretty like this, doll” your makeup was smeared, cry’s watery and a bit of droll leaking from your mouth. You cum at his words. He continues thrusting, dropping your hair, and letting you fall on your stomach on the table once more. He threw his own head back, his cock twitching inside you before he came.

Ropes and ropes of cum, he pulled out with a pant, watching as your pussy was clenching around nothing, leaking of a mixture of both of your cums.

He smirks at his work, touching your ass before zipping up his pants. Whispering, “you’re mine, doll” before leaving.

You were breathless, and feel to your knees. You legs couldn’t stand— not without shaking. Still, you felt a sense of achievement.

This was far from over

[flamesignite]

I’m gonna admit even after finally having a computer again I really don’t feel like coming back on here. It’s just not as fun as it used to be. It’s why I decided to be more selective these days because it felt like a job trying to come on here a lot. I really don’t think I’ll be doing any new interactions for a while here.

I wanna focus on the current threads I have going atm. Other than that I’ll probably send asks to people. I turned anon off because it’s just too overwhelming nowadays. Like don’t get me wrong it was fun somedays but I realized how some people like to really take advantage of the anon button nowadays so I’m sorry if you’re shy and wish to send asks but can’t now.

Some anons get to be too much and ruin it for people. (I didn’t get hate or anything here. it was when I had my old blog where people were sending me anons constantly attacking roy without permission. It’s people who like to start things trying to send things about my mutuals too.) I’m just tired I’m too old for this and I’ll probably only be online when I feel like it. Thanks for understanding. I’ll still reply to threads when I feel like it. (So def take your time if you owe me a reply)

I’ve been gaming all day just being in my own little world.

Reality just sucks right now and it’s overwhelming and I’m still around discord if you have me added. Reality has basically caused me to be a shut in at this point.

I’m tired and this is roleplay (ROLEPLAY) notice the word Play. This isn’t a job so def don’t treat it like one and enjoy yourself. I’ll be roleplaying a lot more on discord honestly. But I’ll still be around just not as much as I had been before.

Sorry to those that follow me and I haven’t followed back like I said on the other blog I’m tired of being overwhelmed. It’s hard to be active right now cuz I just don’t feel motivated as much to be here.

[paladinsbrainrot]

hello just wanted to say I think you’re really cool and I love your art!! I also LOVE romike too, super excited for their dynamic in s5

I’d love to hear your thoughts on them and if you have any predictions/theories/things you’d like to see with them next season :]

OHHHHH MY GOD thank you this is such an amazing question !!!! so sorry it took me so long to answer however i have very many Thoughts™

the idea of robin and mike being friends is soooo dear to me you don't even understand. romike has been on my mind since before s4 even came out #Tbh I just think that they are so similar and tethered and it's just so shocking that they haven't properly interacted yet!!!

obviously I think romike first came to fruition through the idea that robin would act like a gay mentor to mike and kind of guide him to realize his feelings for will, but they're so much more than this mentor/mentee relationship. not only would it be an interesting dynamic to explore as they have barely interacted, but they are literally both Anxiety As A Person and their personalities would compliment each other so well. mike's reluctance to open up to people & robin's willingness to ramble to anyone she meets? sign me up. both are bottling up their emotions in totally different ways. i would live for them awkwardly bumping into each other and mike finding her annoying at first but then realizing she is literally his carbon copy and that they are so much more alike than he first thought. (I would argue that they are literally madwheeler 2.0 sans the bitchiness.) them both bonding over the fact that they have trouble expressing their emotions and that they feel like outsiders????? them both realizing they are stuck in the same boat and using each other as an outlet to open up (+ it would be way easier for them to talk about these things because they aren't super close)????? hEllooooo duffers Are u seeing this?????? their dynamic would be so interesting if they don't write it I'm going to have to do it myself.

as for general predictions/theories..... oh boy I have Lots!!!!

I think that the writers are leaning more towards a rowill focus than a romike one this season so I don't think we will see as much as them as I would hope for. BUT this post gives me the idea that we will get a bunch of romikewill scenes on the farm with maybe a dash of one-on-one romike content sprinkled in there for the wellbeing of the people (the people being me and the other two romike fans on this app). as much as I love romike I think will and robin are the characters who Need to talk to each other the most because they're both still closeted. though as I said before I pray that the duffers will realize the potential that romike has as well 🙏

so I've basically done a whole lot of rambling and haven't even answered your question so I'm just gonna get straight to what I want for them this szn if this were my perfect world 🎉

I have this one recurring dream that mainly only exists because of a fic I wrote an extremely long time ago but basicalllyyy the essence of it was that mike and el were in this weird phase in their relationship where they were distant, awkward, and were almost uncomfortable around each other? so mike, incredibly frustrated and fed up with this, starts acting moody and withdrawn from everyone else. also bc this is s5 lets just add the fact that his sister is missing, he just got beat up by the school bullies, and maybe he and will got into the painting fight or something. so just imagine mike being almost reclusive and reserved on the farm set. maybe robin notices his lack of exuberance (that's probably not the right word but whatever) and decides to take matters into her own hands. she asks what his deal is and if he's doing all right with everything going on. mike pretends he's super annoyed by her because of all the questions she asks him but maybe she makes some offhand remark about how they're stuck on this stupid farm and it'll only get worse if he keeps acting like this. (and also, they have bigger issues to worry about!) so mike, quickly realizing that robin is literally the only person on this farm that is there for him to talk to, opens up to her a little reluctantly about everything going on with him. it's important that this is a slow process and that he doesn't dump everything on her at once. maybe he says that he doesn't know what he's doing with his and el's relationship and how will's not talking to him and that he feels he keeps screwing things up with the people he cares about the most. insert moment of robin being robin and clearing up the air, relieving the tension off mike's shoulders, and also giving him some very valuable advice!! obviously there's much more here to explore upon but the general gist of it is that they become much closer after this. robin learns that she can open up to mike too, about how some "person" that she's interested in is giving her mixed signals and how she is actually very scared about the end of the world but feels like she has to deflect everything with humour. they learn they are able to confide in each other and boom romike world domination!!!

I kind of what them to be like a mix of steve & robin and mike & nancy and mike & max, if that makes sense. like steve and robin's closeness, mike and nancy's worry about each other, and mike and max's bickering and (loving) malice. Idk mike is very irritable and snarky and robin is very direct and straightforward and also very tentative so I think their dynamic would just feel natural and compliment each of their personalities!!

I also think their dynamic could be veryyy beneficial to discovering the key to destroying vecna once and for all !!! these two are arguably the smartest characters on the show and work in very like minded ways. robin figured out when blue meets yellow in the west (cough) and that music is the key to getting out of vecna's mindscapes. mike has had wayyy too many clutch moments during the show that I can't mention here otherwise this post would get too long, but you get the point. putting both of their brains together might help our characters figure out how to end this battle. this script that maya hawke posted a while back that features both of mike and robin's names makes me very hopeful that this will be a possibility in s5. (potential st5 spoilers incoming ->) my current running Theory is that mike and robin discover that the military or hnl (is it still running in s5? idk) are running experiments on kids again and use the mccorkle farm and subsequent tunnels underneath to help the kids escape. (mayhaps this is how derek ends up on the farm after being spotted with the military??? idk.)

I am trying not to get my hopes up about robin and mike being spotted at hawkins lab together (potentially with el and will too 👀) but I have a feeling that this is related to whatever was going on in the tunnels. I have No Clue about what is going down at hawkins lab but one can only hope that they are there because the gang realized they needed two of the smartest people as well as the two strongest/most powerful to figure out the situation with the gates. great minds think alike or something like that!!!

this is more leaning towards romikewill territory but Idk I would just liveeeee for a scene of robin picking up on the labyrinthine circumstance that is will & mike's relationship and teasing mike about it !!! and in return I would like a Lot of mike teasing robin about vickie. I think (key word Think) vickie is on the farm with them so I need lots of scenes of robin not so subtly flirting with vickie and vickie flirting back and giggling like a maniac and mike noticing out of the corner of his eye and smiling. i want him to go up to robin later and just whisper shout that vickie is soooo into her. something similar happening with byler and robin noticing would also be very plausible. i just think it would be so sweet for mike and robin to see themselves in their friends and the people around them to help guide them towards their self-acceptance arcs, and learn that there is some hope for them after all ☹️ the only thing I don't want to see is only one of them being used just to further the romantic advances in the other's story. like I don't want the only reason robin interacts with will and mike in s5 to be to help guide byler towards e/o or for mike to do the same thing with rovickie!! it's important that they both realize that having queer friends is just as significant, and that they both are able to confide in each other about their struggles and worries, whether it's about their relationship or not.

there was also this one leak from early 2024 (another leak warning if you haven't clicked off this post already) that stated that mike and robin had a few scenes together because mike was worried about will, and robin was worried about vickie, and bonded because of this. I think this is a much more plausible way for them to start talking to each other than that scenario I mentioned earlier lol. I really hope that vickie is related to derek or the turnbows in some capacity; it would make her such less of a random character and also give robin a reason to be worried about her (and would also tie into them helping derek escape and the fact that he's on the farm with the rest of them). romike confiding in each other about the fact that they feel like they are useless/can't save the people they love AUGHHHH give it to me now . (edit: the leak is mentioned somewhere in this post you just may have to dig for it)

this post is very long and a total incoherent ramble so I am Very sorry but unfortunately I will never be normal about romike a day in my life. @willelworld (my lovely fellow romike enthusiast!) made a very great point in this post that I would like to end off with because it just sums up what is so perfect about them:

I really hope that my favourite adhd losers will be able to bond over their social incompetencies and sexualities and suppressed emotions and so much more in st5!!!! they just have such best friend material so I hope the duffers do not waste this absolute perfect opportunity to write a queerplatonic friendship ^_^

[sasukeless]

What's Sasuke and Karin's friendship like?

i can’t tell if you’re asking me for hcs or use canon? anyway i guess they both the same anyway because i don’t like changing stuff. so yeah they are a very subtle friendship since karin is a side character and not meant at the center of sasuke’s arc the way itachi and naruto are but i still find them very precious.

like imagine you’re karin and you have no family and no village and you’re basically the lab experiment of some freak and there’s this boy that saves your life and is the only person kind to you (you can notice is taka’s interactions sasuke defends karin from suigetsu which i find really nice of him). it makes perfect sense to me karin grows very attached to sasuke. he’s also the one to kill her abuser (more because orochimaru is his abuser as well but yeah) and free her of duty, and trusts his back to her. the way jugo tells sasuke they have to leave karin behind because they won’t make it otherwise but sasuke stands his ground and does everything to save her it’s so telling and debunks any argument people have of sasuke just seeing her as a tool.

in fact, i find hilarious ppl use him stabbing karin at 5ks as their proof when the whole point of that scene is seeing how far gone sasuke was and his mental instability when faced against the responsibility for itachi’s and his clan massacre that he ended up hurting a friend that gave all to help him. obito literally calls karin sasuke’s favorite out of taka during that fight, do people just assume kishimoto added that for no reason? but anyways back to them. i also love that despite his crush and flirting, karin also can talk back to sasuke and isn’t meek. she isn’t scared to call him out when she wants to. sasuke also apologizes to her and ik shippers of all kind love to say he didn’t mean it but there’s no indication he wasn’t sincere unless you try to push an agenda lol. i also love that sensing sasuke in danger got karin to unlock the uzumaki chains technique so she could get to save him, it shows how much she cares (and it kinda parallels him saving her during the killer bee fight). and lastly karin just wants sasuke happy like for all her crush can be annoying at times she really cares more for sasuke’s happiness than “winning” him and doesn’t try to generate pity with her feelings to get him to stay with her and i think that’s why sasuke doesn’t find her annoying lol.

so to summarize it, i adore their friendship even if it’s not in your face and you have to pick it up. i think they care about each other and like each other presences. i can also see them bonding over their traumas being victims of orochimaru’s grooming and being understanding. i like to think even after moving on from her crush karin still acts clingy and annoying w sasuke but instead of being confused like before he just now is like Whatever and lets her because they both know it’s not serious.

[liliththeimp]

Meeting the prince

(Rafe x pouge! Reader)

A/n: a completely wild and random thot but I felt like being a pick me so if you have a problem I have an inbox…..may continue in another pit of longing 😋

Cw: none, just fluff and non sexual tension lol

not proof read ‼️

———

Your hands sunk deeper into your chilled flesh, bubbled with little goosebumps from the soft flush of beach air slapping against you.

Another party at the boneyard, another clumsy accident where you spilled beer all over yourself and now you stood frozen and isolated on a piece of abandoned and bleached wood.

You couldn’t handle the loud boom of the kook’s music, couldn’t handle mingling or flirting with drunk kooks either. Your best friends were off doing just that, drunk and mingling so you took sanctuary by yourself, on a log, counting stars above you and seashells that washed between your feet.

Your hands coddled your arms still, slightly shaking at the cold before you finally decided to call it a night, wanting to trudge alone through the muggy marshes to your grandfathers little wounded and melting shack, eroded from countless storms but still standing sturdy nonetheless.

With your head bowed, weaving through thick crowds of people on the outskirts of the party, typically clumsy and uncoordinated little you, ran smack dab into the chest of the Rafe Cameron.

It wasn’t like you could tell it was him until his mouth opened with a painful hiss of his phone slipping into the sand and a subtle ‘bitch’ peeping from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered up, apologizing with a flamed face and flickered between the floor and his mouth, debating picking up his phone for him.

He, just as stunned, stood there and watched you. You weren’t someone he would ever interact with in a million years, yet he regretting calling you a bitch for the fact you skittishly picked up his phone and simpered apologies like how he spends money.

With a slight tremor in your frail and awkward fingers handed him back his phone, dusting off the sand the best you could.

He shook his head, rubbing his face with a groan (mainly for the inconvenience and self control he took not to speak back to you) before taking the phone with a rude yank and quick ‘thanks’.

You nodded and coddled your arms again as another gust of cold air crept behind you.

Before he left and lost the chance to talk to you again, Rafe awkwardly opened his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself but apart of him only did it out of pity. You almost reminded him of wheezie, skittish and a cumbersome sense of social cues

“you leaving?” He strained, eyes wincing as he looked off the crowd, hoping his friends wouldn’t see him.

You bit your top lip, nervously peeling the skin away with your teeth as you nodded, he took notice you didn’t like eye contact. Was that a choice out of intimidation or were you just fucking weird?

“You cold?” He asked again, bowing his head slightly as he tried to match up your face. The curls of your hair framing and falling into your face to hide, years of swimming had crimped the strands, he assumed.

Maybe he could take you to the beach sometimes. Alone. Together.

He sighed, checking his surroundings one last time before he peeled off his jacket, his stupid tacky collared shirt hiking up his abdomen with it before he gently tossed it to you.

It was a worn down fleece, a subtle faded brown in the dark of the boneyard with a beach musk that smelled too rich for lifetimes you’d never see.

He insisted you put on the jacket, smiling with only a corner of his mouth as he spoke with a shrug, watching you fumble to find the opening for your head and slipped on the slightly oversized coat, enveloped in the warmth it brought.

“Keep it. I know you think im an asshole, but im still a gentleman.”

[cin-cant-donate-blood]

I was just gonna mumble something in the tags but I actually have Thoughts on this so here goes.

I don't care for LLM chatbots. No matter how impressive people keep insisting they are, I have always found them to be disappointing (perhaps because I am asking the wrong questions, but I don't think asking it to write a Shakespearian sonnet or remind me of a word I've forgotten based on a definition are very weird prompts, and it fucking sucks at both of those).

I do use them to gauge them, though. I am curious about what kinds of responses other people who are actively using them are getting.

One time I asked it what autistic people are like, just to see what it might be telling neurotypicals that people like me are like. It rattled off a number of broadly accurate things, but in the middle of everything it slipped in something to the effect that autistic people are not very good with art.

When I asked it about this, it immediately backed down and said I had misunderstood it, but it does bother me that it may well say something like that to someone else who knows less about autism.

These bots are known to be good at replicating human biases, so there is no doubt in my kind that it was, at the end of the day, replicating an already existing stereotype.

I think the stereotype that autistic people are on some level not well suited to make art (or even uninterested in it) is in turn by a mythical quality that I think of as "anti-intelligence", which is something distinct from stupidity.

The theory of anti-intelligence goes like this: there exists a human trait called intelligence or logicalness, which makes you Good With Math. If you do not have this trait, however, then fret not! The more Logical (capitalisation is tongue-in-cheek) you are, the less of something else you have, because Logic is the Yang to Intuition's Yin.

Intuition, or Anti-Intelligence, is a purported trait that makes you Good With People and also Artsy. Intuitive People might never be able to grasp math (and honestly, they should as well just give up on it, if you're too artsy you're never gonna be good at that stuff anyway), but they understand things Logical people in turn could never understand, like Love and Drinking Coffee With Your Friends (so illogical!)

The most snide interpretation of this that I as a stereotypically Logical person could make (my love of art and rhetoric are just aberrations, by the way: I shouldn't be wasting my time on them) is that this is all just people who are Bad With Math coping.

The stereotype also plays into pseudoscience about the hemispheres of the brain, and I think a lot of people who identify as Intuitive or Logical may do so with terminology like "left-brained" and "right-brained".

I think the trope of a Logical character not understanding social interaction is in part simply derived from the observation that Autistic people are often Logical and also struggle to understand and be understood by neurotypicals, but at this point it's become a self-sustaining cultural image that informs how a lot of Not Very Logical people think Logical people are.

I find all of this very frustrating because I don't think art or social rituals are illogical at all: they just appear to be if you are personally navigating them with gut feeling without analysing them further. A bit of gut feeling might well be necessary to do things quickly and smoothly enough (that is my main personal struggle with autism: not that I do not understand social situations but that I understand them too slowly, and my gut instinct often makes oversights that I notice a minute after I make them), but that conversation is completelt lost in a culture where Hanging Out With Friends is treated as Magic Beyond the Understanding of Those Dorky Scientists.

fish-out-of-water character in science fiction to whom humanity is deeply alien, but who does not continually get themselves into awkward social situations because they looked up Human Ettiquette For Dummies, they learned about basic human social dynamics including how humans bond socially, and it is immediately obvious to them after five second of introspection how a highly social tool-using species like humans would benefit from spending a lot of time building social ties

[thecolorwheelsystem]

I’m sorry is there something you’d like to share with the class?

I did not come to Tumblr to listen to a pissy anon bitch about us and their boyfriend Finn Wolfhard. I’m not gonna listen to you whine about us faking for giggles and gatekeep a celebrity while you hide behind the safety of the anon ask. Please be a big boy and show your face, don’t be shy I won’t bite.

-Sincerely, Ch3ddr 🧀🌾

[puppppppppy]

learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way

[dayurno]

this is somewhat of a vent post & something i said i would not do again but has been plaguing me enough that i think getting it out might feel better. so. has anydoggy else been. Baffled and upset by nora sakavic’s refusal to speak on how terribly aftg has treated its characters of color? with the author of the series coming back with a new book and starting up on her online activity again, and questions of what she’d change about aftg bubbling up, it’s particularly glaring to me that we are all playing this very long game of pretend where we ignore how badly the non-white cast has been treated & her lack of thoughts on it

and i understand not wanting to bring up nicky and thea because people pick on her for it. i’m not trying to discredit nora sakavic’s terrible history of getting harrassed online by aftg fans. but i think it is very cynical, and it is very juvenile, and most of all very cruel, that she gets to ignore the very real ways the books have set up these characters to be hated. i think it’s obvious why the characters who get the most hate are the only canonical characters of color, and i think we do not get to treat this like a deliberate decision on the fandom’s part when the books have put these same characters in degrading and embarrassing and terrible positions in the first place. aftg is not a story about nice characters with clean pasts, but there is a very specific nastiness to the only characters of color being a brown man who sexually harasses and later assaults the main character, a black woman whose only scene is her lashing out at her love interest after being ignored for the first two books, and the japanese villain who gets maybe two lines of complexity before he goes back to being a terrible person. the white cast, in comparison, while not at all free from flaws, are never shown to commit mindless evil; all of their actions are ultimately justified. the book goes out of its way to give them concession after concession. we know exactly who to side with, because aftg tells us who these people are. does nicky’s assault ever get addressed in the books? does riko’s reasoning to be the way that he is ever gets more than briefly aluded to? is thea reserved even a shred of humanity or grace in her one scene?

anyway. it’s been years of talking about this and the fandom has been constantly hostile to criticism in this regard, and more recently any criticism at all, and it’s Grating to be on the other side of this discussion. it’s exhausting to know that in ten years we do not get even an acknowledgment besides the author saying she will not answer questions about nicky and thea anymore. it’s upsetting and it’s ugly and i wish no one had to talk about this again, but we do because what i thought was common sense has been washed away by a sudden influx of no-nuance adoration for the trilogy. basically i hope we all explode

[lifenconcepts]

:3 yeah bro I’m silly like that !! Anyways I got more to talk about but like. Do ya wanna ask anything? My asks are always open!! Constantly wanna yap and sometimes my soul just flicks on the ‘write!’ switch and I blink and I got a ton of words on a page. Glad someone also enjoys these sorts of ramblings! Yeah, i also understand where you’re from entirely. I got this natural desposition where I wanna know more about us and also this world that remains unseen yet so commonly felt and depicted.. to bridge the world between instinct and knowledge. It started slow but I’ve gotten better around grasping the basics of it, but even still, I look back on writings a week back and no longer think as bright of them. There’s new information to be acquired and newer ideas to come across, and with more experiences and interactions I form even more connections between that and what has happened. I also was exactly like you but something just snapped and I grew fed up and thought “hey! Why not just write until something figures out itself?” And hey, a year and a bit later - and look where I am.. considered someone with knowledge that’s groundbreaking! Many things still are unsaid, many will continue to be that way for months or perhaps years, and yet with constant trying and writing I hope to have very deep understanding of both Intra and Inter-personal.. issues may remain unsolved but I’ve noticed that with me just understanding little things they tend to come back around to help me properly realise the how’s and whys of every day life and how to remain both calm, happy, and open to the world. Ofcourse I also say this as I’m actively protected by angels but like 😅 it’s still good that I don’t allow my vices to destroy me like how it often is tempting.. yeah yeah- even angels tilt their heads and open their hearts to what they know destroys them. I think you’d like my writings! not always am I in such a writing mood, it sorta comes on by it’s own will, but with the right questions or people or motivation I can always open up just naturally. Check out my tag too, it may be full of something you like..

afternoon tea

….i need to just schedule these in advance…

Uh, how are y’all?

free spot for question (ramble about whatever/nf)

no pressure taglist: @neowanderseternally @numisanubis @berrybird054 @saireye @lifenconcepts

(Again, if u wish to be added or removed dm me and explicitly say so and I’ll respect your wish)

[rimouskis]

can I be so open and vulnerable with you guys. the card I was given from people at my old office was sincerely so nice and really validating but also I feel like the main impression I left other people with was "she's really nice" WHICH IS GOOD, I DO WANT TO BE KNOWN AS NICE but also part of me is like... should I maybe strive for "innovative" or "creative" or "a go-getter" because being The Nice One just feels a little mealy-mouthed of me y'know?