#brother is watching Dexter

[that-one-i-think]

Death Note? Don't you mean Dexter the teenage anime?

[glauces-notebooks]

rewatching night at the museum for the first time in a while and wow. i missed this film.

[lifewithaview]

Michael C. Hall in Dexter (2006–2013) Crocodile

S1E2

Dexter's world is rocked when a rival serial murderer, dubbed the Ice Truck Killer by the media, privately contacts him and reveals that he knows Dexter's grisly secret. Meanwhile, Dexter's sister Debra is transferred to Homicide...

*Dexter Morgan: I can kill a man, dismember his body, and be home in time for Letterman. But knowing what to say when my girlfriend's feeling insecure... I'm totally lost.

[happy74827]

A New Moon

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}

WC: 2889

Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes

Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)

『••✎••』

You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.

He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.

But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.

But maybe he was.

Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.

The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.

But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…

Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest getting warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita, but then, that relationship was different too.

It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.

It was terrifying.

Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.

It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.

You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.

Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.

He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.

It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.

You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.

It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?

But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t

That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.

You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.

Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.

And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.

She deserved better.

The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.

And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.

He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.

His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.

Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.

It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.

And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.

You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.

But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.

You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.

It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.

It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.

Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?

But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.

So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.

It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.

Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.

Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.

Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?

Maybe he was.

You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.

The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.

You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.

He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.

“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.

His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.

At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.

The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?

You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.

And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.

The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.

But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

It was exhilarating.

Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.

The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.

He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.

And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.

Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.

Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.

But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.

Something he couldn’t understand.

"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.

"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.

"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.

"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."

You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”

He snorted.

Bold.

If you only knew.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.

You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.

And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.

Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

A new moon.

Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.

[lizzieheartsfanclub]

The most effective thing about Ever After High is that every student has their own personal struggle that adds another element to just how life-ruining the destiny system is.

Apple is so terrified of what will happen to her if she doesn’t follow her destiny, that she is willing to compromise everyone else’s happiness to make sure it happens. This disregard for other people is only encouraged by the influential adults in her life.

Ashlynn has to be a servant to an abusive family and live knowing that the ultimate end to her supposedly happy ending is dying to set the stage for her daughters traumatic backstory, starting the whole cycle over again with no chance for any of them to escape.

Blondie feels so pressured to fit in to a deeply classist/monarchist society and ashamed of her parentage that she constantly presents a fake version of herself to everyone she knows, even her best friends.

Briar has to spend her whole life waiting for the moment her destiny comes and she falls asleep for a century. She knows that when she’s woken up, she will be forced to marry a boy dozens of years younger than her who she’s never met and live knowing that everyone she ever loved is dead and gone, the very things that she watched cause her mother’s emotional breakdown.

Cedar’s father was so afraid of watching her repeat his mistakes that he overcorrected, making it impossible for her to ever learn lessons for herself. She is also forced to share incredibly personal details with anyone who asks her questions, and can’t be trusted by her friends with any of their secrets, and it’s all because of her father’s past trauma.

Cerise has to hide who she truly is and never gets to see her family together and happy despite the fact that her parents have potentially the most healthy and mutually beneficial marriage in the whole franchise.

Daring was groomed from birth for a destiny that ends up not actually being his at all, leaving him aimless, feeling as though he has no purpose and has wasted his entire life.

Darling is forbidden by patriarchy and destiny to become a knight, the only thing she really wants, and at which she would be better than both of her brothers. She has to hide who she is and what she loves from everyone she knows

Dexter lived his whole life never knowing what his destiny would be but also knowing that whatever it was he’d have to commit to it forever the moment he discovered it at Legacy Day.

Duchess has spent her whole life knowing that the story she’s commited to living out ends in tragedy for her, and then had to watch the very people she’s been jealous of for years because of their seemingly happy endings give up those endings, while Duchess, loyal and rule following Duchess, is still stuck with her tragedy.

Faybelle tries so hard to commit to what she sees at her destiny that she’s never had a real friend in her life. Even still, no one recognizes her for all that effort and all she’s given up to be a suitable villain. Everyone is more afraid of Raven, who doesn’t even want to be evil.

Hunter has to constantly go against his moral compass to fulfill his destined role as a Huntsman and to try and make his father proud of him.

Kitty has been taught over and over again to value her Mother’s approval over all else, even at the expense of her friends. Her destiny is to create mischief, but how much more mischief can a dissolving world take before it’s too much?

Lizzie finds it almost impossible to express love or care for anyone else due to her mothers excessive conditioning that’s nearly akin to brainwashing. The saddest thing might be that her mother is actually, in her own way, trying her best to prepare Lizzie for a world that will only ever see her one way—as a villain. Now she lives in Ever After, princess to a kingdom that might not even exist for much longer, having given up everything for a destiny that may soon be impossible.

Maddie is a refugee forced from her home into a world she barely understands at a tender age. But she cannot express any angst or negative feelings about this circumstance, because to do so would go against her character. She lives in a world obsessed with destiny and stories while not even knowing if she’ll ever be able to return home and live out her story.

Raven is judged by almost everyone around her for her mothers crimes, many of which were required of her by destiny in the first place. She is nearly forced to commit to becoming a tyrannical megalomaniac (and almost falls into it herself, several times) who would be sentenced to lifelong punishment and torture for committing acts that weren’t even her idea in the first place, and the one punishing her would have been the very girl who begged so often for her to stop being so difficult and just follow her destiny.

[zephyrchama]

Obey Me! brothers and an MC with long hair...

---

It drives Lucifer crazy. He's constantly asking you to clean the shower drain and nagging at you to either pull it back while studying or cut it short. His tune changes at night, when there's a chance to unwind with his favorite record. One hand cups a glass of Demonus while the other idly runs through your hair. He'll brush his fingers through it to the tune of his music. He'll grab a fistful of it and let his imagination run wild. The next morning he's back to complaining about the drain again and dropping a scrunchie on your head.

---

It's such a distraction for Mammon. He'll drape your hair across his shoulders like a scarf or hold it up to his lips like a fake mustache to make you laugh. He'll bury his face in it to escape from the world when his brothers find a new reason to be mad at him. He'll tug on it if he feels you're not paying enough attention to him. Mammon enjoys wrapping your hair around his fingers and rings. He's very possessive over it. He has a habit of sticking stuff in it like a mischievous little boy, but instead of gum he'll plant flowers and leaves in your hair, then kick back and watch as you dig out a mirror to see what he's stuck on your head this time.

---

Leviathan has a hoard of anime-themed hair accessories that don't suit him. He only bought them for collection purposes, but now that you're around he's always looking for an excuse for you to wear one. It's too adorable. He's mesmerized over the way your hair bounces and sways in pigtails, versus how elegant you can look when a high bun exposes your neck. He wants photos of them all. If you sit in front of him, Leviathan will comb his dexterous fingers through your hair and ask to style it. He enjoys the smell of your shampoo lingering on his hand and on the accessories he lends you.

---

Satan idly plays with your hair while he reads or spaces out. Most of the time he doesn't realize he's doing it. It does irk him when he finds a stray hair in the pages of his book, or on his clothes, but he doesn't vocalize it like Lucifer does. He'll take matters into his own hands. You'll find Satan randomly tying up your hair without warning, then look all smug admiring his own handiwork. The elastic hair ties he keeps in his pocket for you double as toys for any playful stray he spots on the street. If you have a hair out of place then Satan will tuck it back for you, slowly smoothing it out while making intense eye contact.

---

You never knew how many hairstyles existed until you met Asmodeus. He frequently asks to try out new ideas and products with your hair. He comes to brush it when he wants to vent. Spa days are his way of bonding, wherein he'll wrap your long hair up in a towel and wrap his arms around you while it dries. Asmodeus is addicted to the feeling of it, freshly combed, falling across his skin. He uses your hair as an excuse to touch you and will match your shampoo scents with his. You have to admit the feel of his nails against your scalp is incredibly relaxing, and his intuition for fashion is never wrong. He loves watching you admire his work in the mirror while singing his praises.

---

It worries Beelzebub. He worries your hair will get stuck on something, as he's had to help you untangle it from a hook more than once. He worries someone will use it to hurt you, as he's seen Mammon pull it to tease you. He worries it will get in the food, since he's choked on a long strand before. Whenever you're in the kitchen, asking Beel to tie your hair back is a good way to distract him until the food is done, as long as you don't use a fruit-scented shampoo. When you do, it's fun to have him guess what fruit you smell like and compare it to the real thing. Beelzebub is always conscious of your safety and won't hesitate to put a protective hand on the back of your head if you're walking past a low tree branch or leaning over a pot of oil. He's trying to learn to braid for you.

---

Belphegor finds it annoying to wake up with a mouthful of your long hair. It's pretty, but he hates getting his hands tangled in it while he naps, or finding strands of it on his sheets. If it didn't smell so good he'd have already cut it for you. His solution is to buy you soft hooded pajamas. He thinks it's cute to button a big plush hood (think of kigurumi) around your head and tuck the hair inside it. Sometimes he gets really ugly ones because they're funny. Then he has no problem using your head as his personal headrest. He likes rubbing your head because of the expressions you make. The only downside to these hoods is that he can't enjoy your messy bedhead, so he makes sure to take them off for you, too.

[blackwidownat2814]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 1408

Summary: You begin your new job as a Tornado Wrangler (remotely), and meet most of the team. It isn't until you suffer a little mishap that you meet the man himself.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to the Prologue!!! I didn't think it'd be that much of a hit, so I was surprised with all the love. After finishing this chapter, I feel like it could've been part of the Prologue, but oh well. It's been a while since I've written as well, so bear with me. As always, thanks to my awesome beta, @buckysdollforlife, for their help with this and for creating the header for this story (I LOVE IT!!!!) and bestie, @13braincellsonly, for allowing me the use of their son's name and personality when I needed to come up with a horse. **All descriptions of Ziggy the horse were approved by his momma.** And as always, I will be cross-posting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen.

City Girl Knows Her Stuff

You became a Wrangler near the end of the season that first year.  Kate picked you up at the airport with two members of the team: Lily and Dani.  Lily immediately pulled you into a hug, chatting a mile a minute about how excited she was to have you on the team.  Dani (perhaps picking up on your shyness) offered a handshake and big smile, welcoming you to Oklahoma.  Kate was more than happy to let Dani and Lily talk your ear off on the drive to Sapulpa, where you’d be staying with Cathy until you found a place.  She knew it was somewhat difficult for you to make friends, so she was happy to see you enjoying a conversation with two new friends.

You got to meet Dexter when he came by in the van to pick up Lily and Dani.  You thought he was funny and enjoyed some very science-centric conversations with him.  Before they all left, Lily let you take her drone for a spin.  You enjoyed it so much that for your birthday later that year, she gifted you a smaller drone that wasn’t quite like hers, but it had a small camera and small, tinny sounding speaker.  She even had it painted in your favorite color.  That would become one of your absolute favorite gifts.  It made you cry.

Like most storm chasers, you had to have a job in the off season, so you got a remote data analyst job with the NOAA offices in Norman and moved out to a place just out of Sapulpa.  This would allow you to visit Cathy at the farm and work on data in the barn workshop the Wranglers had set up.  You even got yourself a cat.  Abandoned due to his looks and runt status (according to the shelter), you snatched him up the first time you saw him.  Black cats didn’t scare you.  Life with Roach (you’d spent quite a bit of time watching The Witcher) was idyllic and you were happy.

By the time you met Boone, the Wranglers felt like family…and Boone felt like the brother you never had.  Like Boone, you were an only child and didn’t have much of an extended family and it was a bit lonely in the beginning.  The difference, however, was that Boone was an outgoing guy and it was easy for him to make friends and talk to people he didn’t know, whereas that scared you half to death most of the time.  You loved his boisterous way of being, but you also appreciated that he (like Dani) could tell when your social battery had run down and turned it down and would sometimes sit with you in a quiet environment.  Sometimes he’d sit and nap while you read or he’d pick up the latest meteorological article (or sometimes the latest comic he picked up at the shop).  He didn’t even make fun of your nickname like others had before, so you trusted him.

The day of Cathy’s pre-tornado season bbq, while cleaning some dishes, you confessed to Boone that you were nervous about meeting the head tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens.

“T’s a sweetheart B, you got nothin’ to worry about.  Why are ya nervous?”

“Boone!  He doesn’t know me, what if he doesn’t think I’m a right fit for the team?  What if he doesn’t like how I do work?  Y’all are famous ‘round here, what if he gets irked by the fact that big crowds make me nervous and it takes me forever to become comfortable with people?  You know it’s not easy for me to talk to people I’ve never talked to before”, you cried in exasperation.

“B, imma need you to take a breath, okay?” Boone reassured you as he placed his hands on your shoulders.  “If Ty thought any of those things, I would definitely not be workin’ with ‘em.”

You were so busy trying to get yourself to relax that you missed Kate wandering into the kitchen.

“B, are you freakin’ out about meetin’ Tyler again?” she asked.  You and Boone nodded.  “Well, you don’t have to worry.  He won’t be able to come today, said he had to drive down to Texas to see his parents.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, sending some of your hair floating up.  “Good, I have time to relax about it.  Thanks Kate.”

“Thank Tyler’s parents.”

“Thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Owens!” you said to no one in particular and dried your hands, as you looked over at your friends.  “See you two out there!”

Kate and Boone followed, but stayed on the porch, both taking twin sips from their beers.

“You think either of them has any idea what’s about to happen to ‘em?” Boone asked.

“Meaning that Tyler is going to become enamored the second she opens her mouth?”

“Yup.”

“And that she’s going to have the same thing happen to her the second she comes into contact with that cocky cowboy swagger that he exudes when you meet him the first time?”

“Yup.”

“No, I don’t think either of ‘em knows what’s coming.”

A few days before the chasing season began, you brought Roach down to Cathy’s, where he would be staying while you were out with the Wranglers for your first season on the road.  

While there, you asked Cathy if you could saddle up your favorite of her horses, Zig, nicknamed Ziggy.  He wasn’t the brightest of the bunch; he was the type of horse you’d see in a video because someone thought he was dead but in actuality, he was just sleeping.  You swore that his mother, a horse named KJ, rolled her horse eyes every time someone caught him playing dead.

Ziggy may not have been the sharpest pitchfork in the barn, and may not have enjoyed doing much of anything besides looking dead when he slept, but he enjoyed riding through fields with you.  He knew whenever he saw you approaching with a bowl that he was about to get one of his favorite snacks: ice cubes with apple bits in them.  You put Ziggy’s snack bucket down so he could munch while you brushed him and got him saddled and ready to go for a ride.

When Ziggy let you know that he was done with his snack, you popped in your earbuds and shuffled your favorite classical music playlist on Spotify.  You found it was one of your favorite ways to relax.  After you climbed on Ziggy’s back, and kicked him into gear, you took off for the open fields near the road leading up to the farm.

You’d been out there for a while when you started hearing the faint rumble of an engine, but ignored it because trucks passed near this area all the time.  You probably shouldn’t have ignored it though, because when that modified-to-withstand-tornadoes red Dodge Ram 3500 turned on to the road and took off towards the main house, Ziggy took off after it.  By now, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he recognized the truck or the person in it, but you were…and because you were so thrown off by it, your hands (stupidly) had not been holding the reins.  And because you had not held on, you went flying off Ziggy’s back while he just followed the familiar truck.  Lucky for you, the fall didn’t cause you to go unconscious, but it did knock the wind out of you after you landed hard on your back.

As you attempted to take deep breaths, you heard someone yelling and running towards you, so you tried to sit up.  The voice yelled for you to not move, so you listened and stayed on the ground, with your eyes shut.  You just lay there, waiting.

All of a sudden:

“Are you okay?” the voice asked.  You knew that you knew who the voice belonged to but you were so thrown by being thrown that your brain wasn’t focusing.  You blinked your eyes open, and your vision swam before focusing on the most beautiful face.

“Wha-”

“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked as he helped you sit up.

“Uh…”

“Did you black out?”

“No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Cathy’s farm, in Sapulpa.”

“Do you know your name?”  He smiled when you told him.  “Where’d you come in from?”

“New York City.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m the new data analyst for the Wranglers.”

“Well…looks like we got another city girl that knows her stuff.”

Tagging: @ladybirdbeetle7 @omgbrianab @itsdesiree86 @avengersfan25 @keyrani @thedonswife13 @lonelyghosts-stuff

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[ellecdc]

Running Late

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who is visually impaired

CW: reader has a degenerative eye disease that has left her with little sight, boys are obsessed with her, Marlene and Regulus read Sirius like a book

A/N: another fic no one really asked for but, after my post with our sweet wheelchair user!reader, our resident pink heart emoji felt courageous enough to share their own experience with visual impairment and I was inspired by her to write this - so, I hope you enjoy it 🩷 (and everyone else who might need it 🫶)

There was a time that you and Sirius rivalled one another for who took the longest to get ready, but lately it seemed that you usually won in that regard. 

Remus didn’t mind, however; he’d wait on you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 

He had a certain amount of patience for you that he, admittedly, did not have for Sirius; seeing as you had your degenerative eye disease to blame on your tardiness whereas Sirius was just a slow and lazy sod who lived to drive Remus mad. 

He and Sirius had been dressed in their best in the living room as they waited for you to finish getting ready before heading to Regulus’ birthday party that Lily and James were throwing for him, when Sirius couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m just going to go see what is taking so long.” He explained before he disappeared down the hall.

But that was almost 14 minutes ago and now Remus had lost two of his partners in his own flat.

He slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom door that was currently propped open, allowing him to watch Sirius who was perched on the vanity table as he hovered over you with a stick of eyeliner in his hands. 

You used to be quite adventurous with makeup; always watching new tutorials and trying out different styles. But as your eyesight deteriorated, you opted to remain more natural in your looks, working primarily off of memory than visuals when having to hold a mirror so close to your face no longer allowed you the dexterity to work as you were used to. 

And Remus knew for certain you hadn’t touched that stick of eyeliner in what had to be months. 

“Don’t you trust my abilities?” Sirius asked teasingly; his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he focused on getting the wing just right.

“‘Course I trust you, Siri. I just-”

“-don’t want to look silly, I know, doll.” Sirius finished for you softly as he leaned back to consider his work. “I’d never let you leave looking silly.”

“When has she ever looked silly, Pads?” Remus asked then, alerting the two of you to his presence. 

“Not once; never.” He answered readily, causing you to scoff.

“See, this is why I don’t trust you; you’re not objective.”

“I am too objective!” Sirius quickly denied.

“Sirius, you think I look sexy with my retainer and flannel pyjamas.” You deadpanned in return. 

“But… you are sexy with your retainer and flannel pyjamas? You just look so cosy which makes me think about bed, which makes me think about going to bed with you, which makes me think about what we do in said bed and-” 

“Alright, alright.” Remus interrupted with a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he inspected Sirius’ handiwork. 

“How does she look?” Sirius asked him, leaning into Remus’ side as they both watched you flush under their attention. 

“Breathtaking.” Remus offered. 

“You’re not objective, either.” You murmured, pulling the small mirror close to your face in order to scrutinise Sirius’ application. 

“Fine, you want objective, gorgeous?” Sirius quipped as he pulled his phone out.

“What are you doing?” You asked warily as you heard Sirius’ phone begin to ring. 

“Calling the most objective people I know.” He answered just as the ringing stopped.

“What the fuck do you want? And also, where the fuck are you?” Regulus asked his brother.

“Hey Reg, you’re on speaker phone and I need a favour.” 

“On my birthday? You’re asking me for a favour on my birthday?” Regulus asked incredulously. 

“Relax you git, I just need you to find Marlene and put your camera on so you can answer a question for me.” Sirius called back.

You grumbled in protest at Sirius’ theatrics but acquiesced at Remus’ kiss to your temple and thumb rubbing along your shoulder where his hand rested. 

“The fuck does he want!?” You all heard Marlene ask Regulus, causing the two of you to snort and Sirius to scoff in offence. 

“You guys are fuckin’ horrid, listen; how do I look?”

Marlene went first. “Slutty.”

“Like you tried too hard.” Regulus continued.

“Like you’re still trying to piss off your parents even though you don’t talk to them anymore.” 

“Like you were lost at a Paramore concert back in 2007 and still haven’t been picked up from the venue.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Sirius sighed before repositioning himself. “And how does Moony look?”

“Better, I guess.” Regulus offered. 

“If I had to pick a man.” Marlene continued.

“Great.” Sirius said sarcastically. “And what about Y/N?” He asked as he pointed the phone to you. 

Remus could tell you were trying your hardest not to completely turn in on yourself, which he himself was selfishly grateful for as he got to enjoy the view.

“God, she’s such a doll.” Marlene breathed out. 

“You look stunning, love.” Regulus called out.

“Great, you guys are both wankers, love you, see you soon.” Sirius responded before abruptly ending the call.  “Was that objective enough for you?” 

You let out a sigh of faux exasperation and threw your head back. “Okay! Okay.” You relented, allowing Remus to pull you up by your hands and kiss your forehead.

“Oi! Watch the makeup Rem!” Sirius admonished him with a pat to his arse. “We worked hard on that, don’t you know?”

And Remus did know, though he didn’t think you had to. 

Because you were beautiful - always had been - and the way you carried yourself with grace and determination even when you felt as though your body was failing you left you, somehow, even more beautiful. 

Remus had known you before your eyesight started to deteriorate, and he was lucky to have been able to love both versions of you.

Though, selfishly, he thought perhaps he loved this version of you more, simply because it was his.

Simply because it was you; here, now. 

And judging by the lovesick look adorning his boyfriend’s face as he watched you stand and give him a twirl, Sirius felt just the same.

[devildomcuties]

Obey Me: Perfect Hands [Younger Demon Brothers]

🕷 pairing: younger demon brothers x gn!reader

🕷 genre: established relationship, 18+

🕷 summary: something about your demon’s hands drives you wild.

🕷 wc: 3k

🕷 warnings: pet names (kitten, love, pretty, cupcake, babe, moon), pillow humping, lots of finger sucking/fucking, biting, choking, mention of bruising, rimming, mirror sex, some manhandling, use of a silk tie as a blindfold briefly, use of a bullet vibrator, cum eating, masturbation (m), a little degradation, food mention

🕷 date: September 16, 2024

Satan

Satan sat on his bed with a thick book in his lap. You sat beside him, an open coloring book in front of you. 

You had spelled his bedroom to keep out any unnecessary noise from his brothers, allowing your boyfriend to read in peace. Only important messages would get through, for example, if the house was on fire or Lord Diavolo called a meeting. Something of the sort. 

Slowly, Satan turns the page, pausing to grab his kitten bookmark to mark his place. 

“It’s so stuffy in here,” he complains as he takes his shirt off. He remains in a pair of green plaid pajama bottoms as he gets comfortable in his bed with his book resting on his chest. 

You try not to drool over his physique but you’ve failed so far. You had tried to curve your attention away from Satan by coloring but all you had done was write your initials in little hearts on any blank space on the sheet in front of you. 

It would only be a matter of time before Satan noticed. 

Sighing, you focus on finishing the shading for the image in your book. You kick your legs back and forth as you hum quietly. You’ve taken an oversized tee from Satan’s closet to wear, opting for a relaxing day in bed but you won’t lie, you’ve become distracted by your boyfriend time and time again. 

Today, it’s his dexterous fingers that get you going. How pretty his hands are, how delicious they look gripping the book while his intense gaze is focused on the tome in front of him. His veins become more noticeable as he holds the book with one strong hand, using the other to turn the page. 

Satan appears oblivious as he reads the text, not noticing when you shut your coloring book and put it in a drawer with some of your belongings.

You watch Satan for a while, heat pooling in your abdomen as you watch him intently. 

It’s not until you’re rocking your hips into a pillow, mewling softly that Satan looks up from his book. His brow is raised in question as he looks over at you, puzzled. 

“S-sorry,” you stutter as you continue to grind on one of his pillows, unable to stop as flashes of last night hit you. 

Satan’s fingers in your mouth as you drool on his sheets, his chest pressed to your back as he calls you his good kitten. 

Satan smirks as he shuts his book, setting it aside for later. It is you that requires his attention now. 

“Pretty kitten, just what do you think you’re doing?” He questions as he drums his fingers in front of you. 

A whine escapes you as you meet his gaze for a split second before they focus on his lithe fingers once more. 

Chuckling, Satan grabs your chin with one hand, making you look up at him. 

“I asked you a question, kitten. Answer it,” he demands as he releases you. 

You don’t cease your movements, only grind further into the pillow as Satan climbs off the bed to settle between your legs instead. He lifts your hips higher, adjusting the pillow under your hips to raise your angle. 

“I don’t like being ignored, love,” he whispers as he presses his erection against your ass. You curse, moaning his name as he rubs himself against you.

Satan leans over you, his bare chest pressed to your back as he takes your lobe between his teeth. His hand wraps around your throat for a moment, your ass rubbing on his clothed cock, in hopes of tempting him to bury himself inside you. 

“So needy,” Satan huffs a laugh as he releases your throat. He raises the cotton material of the shirt you’re wearing, easily discarding it on his bedroom floor. He’s not surprised to see you naked underneath as you seek some form of stimulation; either from him or his pillow. 

Satan is slow with his movements. His hands rub down the length of your back before settling on your hips. He grips them tightly, nearly bruising them as he spreads you open and spits in your hole. 

“Fuck, Satan,” you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his tongue circling your entrance. You grip the sheets, your thighs trembling as Satan teases you with his tongue just to listen to the sweet cries that leave your pretty lips. 

“It’d be so easy to slide my cock inside you, kitten. Make you drool on my fingers while I fuck you full. Do you want that?” Satan smirks as you cry out his name, nearly fucking yourself on his face in search of pleasure. 

You snap your fingers and a mirror appears on the side of his bed, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend as his hands grip you to pull you closer. His gaze meets yours in the mirror, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he swirls his tongue around your hole to make you squirm. 

You knew you were in for a long, long night.

Asmo

Asmo had done your nails on his livestream. He had painted his nails himself this morning but he wanted you to match him. 

“Should we add hearts?” You ask once the livestream ends. You look at Asmo’s hands, trying not to drool over them as he takes your hand in his. 

Asmo’s hands were smooth, perfectly manicured, and perfect for groping you. 

“Hon, are you even paying attention to me?” Asmo asks as he laces your fingers with his. “You weren’t, right?”

You shake your head, smiling bashfully. You avoid his intense gaze. Asmo giggles, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“What’s got you so distracted, pretty?” Asmo asks as he gently grips your chin with his fingers. You lock eyes with him, biting your bottom lip. Asmo slowly releases your lip from your teeth, running his thumb over it afterward.

“This is mine to bite,” he murmurs as he presses his thumb to your lip. You eye him curiously as he leans forward to claim your lips with his. You kiss him back slowly at first, allowing him to deepen the kiss when his hands grip your face and his tongue meets yours.

Asmo moans when he tastes you, his teeth biting your bottom lip before he sucks it. You moan his name, grabbing his chest, clawing his skin as you fall back onto the mattress with him on top of you.

“Fiesty,” he chuckles as he leans over you, kissing your lips, cheeks, and jaw, then trails kisses to your neck.

“Asmo,” you moan his name in an angelic tone that makes his cock throb. He shuts his eyes, trying to hold himself back from devouring you whole.

“What is it, pretty? What do you need from me?” Asmo asks as he takes his shirt off. He kneels between your legs before he wraps his hand around your ankle to pull you toward him. You giggle when you’re dragged to the end of the bed. 

His show of strength makes your blood run hot as he moves you to the edge of the bed. Asmo climbs off the bed with a teasing grin, grabbing a silk tie to wrap around your eyes while you wait. 

“Perfect,” Asmo announces before he climbs onto the bed. The mattress dips beside you and then behind you as Asmo sits with his legs on either side of yours. He gently helps you out of your shirt, tossing it to the bedroom floor.

Asmo is careful as he undoes the silk blindfold, tossing it to the side. You’re surprised to see a mirror placed in front of the bed. Asmo is nonplused as he pulls you into his chest. His hands run up one arm and then the other. His lips plant kisses from one shoulder to the other while you watch in the mirror.

His beautiful hands explore every bit of your body available to him before he helps you out of your bottoms. Asmo licks his lips as he watches your chest rise and fall with each breath. Anticipation builds inside you. Your eager eyes follow the movement of his hands until he reaches for something in his pants pocket.

A small buzz fills your ears as Asmo lifts the small black vibrator to your lips. “Open up for me, hon. Just like you did the last time.”

You moan, your tongue greeting the vibrator as it gets pressed to your lips. Asmo meets your gaze in the mirror, his lips by your ear. “So good for me, pretty. Always so good.”

“Asmo,” you moan his name as he fucks the vibrator into your mouth until you’re drooling on it and his fingers. He moves the vibrator downward, pressing it to your nipple. You curse, falling into him as your fingers lace with his free hand.

Asmo allows you to squirm against him as he teases you with the silicone toy. “That’s it, hon.”

Your eyes roll back as Asmo wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides gently. “It takes so little to get you so riled up for me.”

You whine, giggling when he moves the vibrator between your legs. His gaze darkens as he watches you shake when he presses it against you. Your hand grips his thigh, biting back a moan as you watch as his hand moves the vibrator between your legs. 

His beautiful hands capture your attention, his veins prominent as he goes, whispering filthy things into your ear until you’re clenching your thighs and arching into him. 

“Don’t hold back, pretty. Let me see you cum,” Asmo smirks as he turns the vibration up higher and higher until you’re gasping for air, your body going rigid for a moment as a wave of pleasure washes over you, soaking Asmo’s hand with your release.

Asmo giggles. He lifts his fingers to his lips, his tongue swirling around them before he moans at how delicious they taste.

“My turn, hon,” Asmo sings as he lays you down on his bed, climbing on top of you to kiss you. The vibrator hums between your bodies.

Beel

Massive. 

That’s the first word that came to your mind when you thought of your boyfriend, Beel. His broad shoulders, tapered waist, and huge cock made your mouth water. You were insatiable when it came to him. You could eat him up; for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

If you asked Beel how he felt about you, he’d probably say the same.

At the moment, Beel was in your bedroom sitting at your desk with a gallon of milk and an array of your favorite cookie from the human realm. 

“So many flavors!” Beel exclaims as he admires the towers he’s built out of cookies. “There’s peanut butter, strawberry, cinnamon, birthday cake, fudge dipped, chocolate, mint, red velvet, lemon and pistachio!”

“Beel,” you sigh frustrated as you watch your boyfriend split apart a cookie, lick the cream, and dunk the leftovers in his glass of milk.

You focus on his fingers as he slides them into his mouth to suck the excess milk off. He doesn’t notice you staring as he reaches for another cookie while you melt into a puddle. 

Once Beel devours every cookie and downs every last drop of milk, he takes you to his bedroom where he brushes his teeth. You lie on his bed, rolling around in it to inhale his scent. 

Belphie is missing from the bedroom but you’re sure he’s napping somewhere in the house, perhaps under a desk or a hidden corner. You don’t worry about him much as you wrap yourself in Beel’s sheets. 

Beel joins you on his bed. He sits on the edge before he reaches for a dumbbell. Was he going to work out while you were on his bed waiting for him to make a move?!

“Nine… ten,” Beel grins as he switches hands.

Your eyes are glued to his hands trailing upward to his rippling biceps. This was absolute torture. How were you expected to sit on the sidelines while his large hands held the dumbbell and his muscles shined with sweat? You wanted to trace the prominent veins from his hands to his shoulders. You press your thighs together as you watch him. His orange nails look so pretty as he sets the weight down on the floor. He clenched his hands a few times before you threw yourself at him. 

“Whoa!” He exclaims in surprise as he catches you at the last moment. 

You take his hand in yours, smiling when his fingers lace with yours. He squeezes your hand and smiles. 

“What’s got you jumping into my arms like that, Cupcake?” Beel asks as he helps you settle into his lap. 

Your hands roam over his broad shoulders. You easily help him out of his jacket and shirt. Beel falls back onto the bed. 

Your lips press kisses to his neck and chest and end on his hips. Beel watches you curiously as you undo his belt, his pants, and zipper. His cock is hard when you tug his pants down with his boxers. 

Beel chuckles at your eagerness, easily pulling you to him to kiss you. You moan softly, his tongue meeting yours. Your hands grip a handful of his hair as he grabs your hips. You grind on him, moaning when his cock presses against you. 

Slowly, Beel sets you beside him. You strip down to your underwear as he strokes his cock. You bite your lip as you watch him, unsure of where to focus, his face, his hands, or his cock. 

Beel smirks when you lick your lips. You want to reach for him but you’re somewhat dazed by how his large hand strokes his cock. His hands are so pretty, the veins prominent, and you ache to suck on his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Beel curses as he goes faster. You crawl towards him, spitting on the head of his dick to aid him. He groans, reaching out for you with his other hand. You kiss him, muffling his moans of your name as he cums shortly after. 

You watch as his fingers get coated in thick ropes of cum. You giggle as you take one of his hands and lick each finger clean. Beel watches you with lustful eyes. He waits until you’ve had your fill before he gets you underneath him. Easily, he kisses his way down your body, sucking and biting on your skin until he settles between your thighs. 

“My turn, Cupcake.”

Belphie

“Two eggs,” Belphie murmurs to himself as he looks at the recipe book sitting beside his mixing bowl. You sit on the counter, watching him as he grabs the eggs from the fridge. 

Your eyes are focused on his hands. He rolls up the sleeves of his jacket and heads to the sink to wash his hands. He dries them thoroughly before he grabs two eggs out of the carton. 

Belphie can feel the heat of your gaze on him but he ignores it. He was exhausted. You had kept him up most of the night by riding him or grinding your ass against him. He loved it, but now he was tired and it was his turn to bake the cake for dessert tonight. Part of him wishes he’d ordered one ahead at the local bakery. How was he supposed to know you’d end up having a fuck-a-thon the night before?

“Quit staring,” Belphie huffs as he holds the egg in his hand, ready to crack it open against the edge of the counter.

“I’m not staring,” you answer innocently as you kick your feet back and forth. 

Belphie rolls his eyes as he cracks the first egg, ignoring the way you stare at him. His mind flashes to last night’s events. From his hands gripping your hair to his hand wrapped around your throat while he fucked you into his mattress. You’d cried out for him so sweetly. 

Sighing, he grabs the second egg. This one is messier when he cracks it, the egg white sticks to his fingers as he splits it open the rest of the way into the mixing bowl. 

“Ugh! I hate when that happens,” he grumbles in annoyance. 

You watch his fingers, biting your lip as he goes to wash his hands once again. What were the chances of you getting fucked open on his fingers here in the kitchen?

Belphie dries his hands again before returning to the mixing bowl. He adds the rest of the ingredients and a whisk to blend them all. He notes the way you sigh dreamily, smiling as his hand moves faster and faster. 

He ignores you as he pours the cake batter into a baking pan and sticks it in the oven.  He sets the timer and cleans up the mess he’s made. 

“Belphie,” you say his name sweetly. He goes to you, his hands resting on your thighs. 

“You said you’d help me,” he pouts. “But all you did was stare at my hands.”

“I can’t help it,” you chuckle as you take his hands to kiss each of them. Belphie rolls his eyes in annoyance. 

“I should have asked someone else to help,” Belphie sighs. 

You ignore his petulant attitude. You take one of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. 

“Moon,” he warns as you take another one of his fingers in your mouth. He curses as he watches you, grinning when he moves the fingers out just to push them back in. You moan, gripping his wrist as he fucks your mouth with his fingers. He doesn’t understand your obsession with his hands but he enjoyed turning you on so easily. 

You drool over his fingers, moaning when his knuckles brush your lips. 

“Just a little whore for me, aren’t you?” Belphie smirks as you choke and he eases up. You moan, drooling on yourself before he takes his fingers out of your mouth and into his. He sucks them clean as you watch him, biting your bottom lip as tears pool in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, babe. I have something else for you to suck,” he grins as he helps you off the counter to take you to his room after sending Levi a text to take the cake out of the oven.

[princessisfinethx]

Baby Fever

This post is inspired by all the babies running around my family right now. And also a comment I had gotten a while back about König being good with children. I don't know if I should tag them or not, would that be rude?

Warnings: Pure fluff, babies, Soft!König, baby fever König. Toddlers being toddlers. Established relationship.

König knew for certain he did not get baby fever easily. When he saw babies or kids, he would shrug and make a comment about how small they were or something. You were almost the same way, not wanting kids right now but couldn't help but adore the tiny babies and toddlers. You were dating for a while and agreed that kids were not an option right now. So, when you were asked to babysit for your brother and his wife, you asked König to come along to help you.

~~~

You warned König that your brother had two boys and one girl. The boys were 6 (twins) the girl was 1. König made a comment about weird age difference, and you replied, "They get baby fever a lot more often than you know. And they want a big family." He nodded and you added. "She's pregnant again too." Which made König's eyes widen.

When you both arrived there, the boys ran to you excitedly, screaming about their auntie being back. But they quieted when they saw König. The large male stares down at the twin boys, waiting to see what they'll do. The first boy walks up and crosses his arms. "Why are you so big?"

König crossed his arms as well. "Why are you so tiny?"

The second boy laughs. "You sound like a evil bad guy!" The boys take off running and you chuckle at them. You now had a small girl on your hip. She hid her face from König and you smiled, rubbing her back.

"She's a little shy, but her mom said she's due for a nap." You walked him inside just as your brother and a pregnant wife walked out, yelling to call them if you had any trouble. König followed you inside while taking in the interior of the house. You were rocking the girl, humming for her to sleep. "Do you think you can watch the boys while I try putting her down to bed?"

He nodded. König made sure that you couldn't see his nervousness at the thought of watching two boys. You left to go put the young girl to sleep and on que, the twins came running out with play swords. One boy raised his sword at König. "Prepare evil villain! For we will slay you!"

König put his hands up and glared. "Attacking me while I am unarmed? How unfair!" The boys giggled at his accent, and maybe perhaps König was making his accent heavier on purpose, but he wouldn't admit that aloud.

When the small girl, Ember, was asleep, you walked out to the living room to find it empty and the front door open. When you inspect that as well, you find König outside with the boys, Dexter and Derrel. König was kneeling in front of one of them and smearing mud over his cheeks, the other twin boy already being marked by what you assumed was pretend war paint.

You crossed your arms as you watched König stand, some war paint of his own painted messily across his face. He was talking to them but you couldn't hear them.

~

"Why do you sound so funny?" One of the boys with the missing bottom and top teeth asked him. The other boy was only missing a few of his top teeth.

"I am from Austria." König finished his face paint and nodded to himself.

The twin boys looked at each other and then asked separate questions.

"Did you meet Steve Irwin? He catches animals."

"Have you ever wrestled a kangaroo?"

"Do you have to kill spiders as big as your face?!"

"Is it true that you can eat kangaroo like chicken?"

König had frowned, knowing they would misunderstand the moment he said it. "No, boys, that is Australia. Austria is further away." He stands. "Now we can play evil bad guy that gets stopped by cool good guys." The boys were giggling excitedly, and he held his hand up. "But wait, first, I must do something bad." He spied you coming down the steps and nodded. He walks over to you and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. "I have stolen your precious auntie, and she will be my prisoner!"

The boys screamed in a panic and rushed him, while you laughed and playfully screamed for help.

~~

A while later, while König and the boys played outside, you got a notification that the baby was awake. "I'll be right back, boys." You stand and walk to the house. When you left, the boy missing both his top/bottom teeth(Dexter) had looked at König.

"Are you going to marry our auntie?"

König thought about this and then answered. "I want to, but your auntie has to like me first. If she doesn't want to marry me, then I won't make her."

"Want me to ask her if she likes you?" He wiped his nose without a care in the world and König grinned.

"No, I am a big boy. I'll find out myself."

The other boy, Derrel, ran up to them while swinging his foam sword. "There's a girl in my class who kissed my friend Barry and it was gross!" He giggled. "Aren't you afraid girls have cooties?"

König chuckled. "I was told that girls and boys have cooties. Did you know cooties come from dirty kids who don't brush their teeth or wash their feet?" He watched the boys make faces, obviously not believing his statement.

You walked out the house with Ember on your hip, smiling down at her while speaking softly. When the boys saw them, Dexter walked up to you. "Emmy doesn't play right when we play games."

"Well, she's a baby, you know." You squat down and set the infant on a blanket laid out in the grass. "She doesn't know how to do much right now. You have to give her time to learn."

Derrel spoke next. "She sleeps a lot too."

König spoke up next. "Babies sleep a lot. When she was growing in your mommy's tummy, all she did was sleep. She was used to it, but now that she is out of your mommy's tummy, she has to get used to being awake. That's why she naps more than you two."

"Poor Emmy." One of them huffed, sitting beside the baby girl and giving her the foam sword which she took happily. "Ah! She has a weapon!"

"No! What have you done! She's unstoppable now!" König gasped dramatically and picked up the other sword. "I will defeat her!"

"No! That's my sister!" Dexter ran at König and jumped on his back. Following was Derrel, and König fell to the ground with a fake grunt of pain. You then picked up the baby girl and helped her walk over to the fallen König, where she screamed in some kind of excited baby scream. The twin boys yelled in victory while sitting atop the large fallen man. Ember held herself up on König's shoulder and he watched defeatedly as a line of drool fell on his face.

"Yack... I've been defeated."

~~~

After König won everyone over with his famous chocolate chip pancakes, everyone was settled down on the couch to watch Scooby-Doo. The boys have taken to sitting in König's arms and Ember played in her baby pin. When König said he never watched Scooby-Doo, the twins were excited to show and tell him all about the mystery-solving dog and the gang. And König was more than happy to listen to all of it. It was about an hour into the movie, and both boys had fallen asleep. König continued watching the movie. You took Ember in your arms and sat down beside them. "They really like you."

He perked up at this, looking over at you and grinning nervously at you and the baby. "You think so? I was nervous I would hurt them accidentally, or they would be scared of me." He watched as Ember reached for him and the Austrian man carefully moved his arm away from one of the boys to hold the small girl in his arms.

You had chuckled softly and laid your head back. "You're doing great with them. But I think those pancakes sealed the deal." You watched as the baby girl curiously poked and pulled at König's chin and lip. He poked his bottom lip out, then stuck his tongue at her. She watched in curiosity before doing the same thing, her hands slapping his face in excitement. You both laughed.

One of the boys woke up and moved over to you, laying his head in your lap and saying it was cold. You pull a blanket over him and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair. After he had fallen back asleep, you look up at König but find him entertaining the baby with his facial expressions.

~~~~

After you and König left, with sad goodbyes from the twins, you noticed how quiet your driver was. Looking up at him, you linked your hand in his free one, causing him to look over at you and interlock his fingers with yours. "What's on your mind?"

A lot. You, him, a family somewhere in the future, you with a wedding band on your left hand and a big belly carrying his child. He was staring forward at the road, and he sighed, a look of annoyance washed over his features. Should he tell you how he felt? What if you detest the idea of having kids with himm "The twins were so rowdy and annoying. Do all kids act that way?"

"Yes. Most of the time."

"And the baby girl, do all babies drool as much as her? It got on my face and my shirt."

"Yes." You watched him carefully, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"Kids are filthy creatures. And clumsy. And a handful..." he brought the back of your hand up to his lips, holding your hand there for a moment. "And they cry for nothing."

"That's usually a toddler phase." You tilt your head. "König what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong Liebling..." He sighed almost defeatedly. "But I can't help but picture us with our own crazy little children... and I want that very much." He looked at you after stopping at a stoplight. "I know we are not ready for kids yet, and we are not married. But I saw the way you look at them, and how big you smile at them and I can't help but want that too, with our own babies." His eyebrows furrowed in thought while he pressed another kiss to your knuckles. "But, maybe that's wrong to dream only after a day of caring for children."

You sit up in your seat and move your hand to cup his face. "It's not wrong to dream König...it's called baby fever." You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his nose.

"You would make the most perfect mommy," He says in a desperately soft voice as you press your lips to his nose. He cups your face so you look into his eyes. "I would be honored to be the father. The best father. Say the word Mein Liebling, and I will give you as many children as you desire."

:')

Don't come after me I just- I dunno.

[hothammies]

will byers, the resident sniper and medic - apoc au details under the cut!

---

will's role in the party:

a scouter - stays back to watch over the area during runs w/his rifle and is a backup supply runner if need be. just prefers to scout with dustin and mike

medic - normally takes care of the group regarding injuries and medicine. is very gentle :)

the angel on mike's shoulder -> knows how to placate mike the best if mike's being unreasonable or too harsh

most knowledgable about the infection and how it works -> helps with understanding the patterns of infected people, what attracts infection, etc.

party mediator - rarely ever fights with anyone (mostly with mike haha) and is usually the person people most often go to for a vent or a rant

skills + hobbies:

best with a rifle + second best with guns! -> he practices a lot with lucas but refuses to kill animals

cook of the group along with el (taught her how to cook): rest of the party can make edible food but don't know how to make it taste good

great knowledge of plants and medicine -> jonathan and joyce taught him all they know about it (they are healers)

draws in a sketchbook that mike stole from another group for him: filled with mundane sketches from life and treats it like a daily journal

likes to collect cds and cassettes that he finds around to play in the car (him and max discuss music the most) - fave bands include system of a down, gorillaz, the clash and the cure :) he's an alt rock fan!

quirks / fun facts:

him and lucas have an ongoing competition that started with their aim and is now based on literally anything -> they've been keeping score since they were nine (lucas is currently up by ten and the points are in the thousands)

will shuffles different music in the car and observes who in the party likes what so he can make his own little mental playlists for them!

him and dustin talk a lot about how the infection works. they have some very intense debates about it, especially when it comes to if the infected still have human consciousness or not (will thinks they do, dustin thinks they don't)

--- other notes: canon will, in a short summary, is a very sweet, sensitive, empathetic and capable boy who consistently puts others needs before his own :') of course, i wanted apoc will to share those attributes, with a big emphasis on his empathy, strength, and kindness. first - i wanted him to be a medic to show how he cares about other people and how he helps the people he loves as well. it's shown a lot in the show how much he cares for people and living beings (see: his actions with dart, el, mike, feeling bad for jonathan's hand after he had just woken up, etc.) and him being a healer is very in tune with this behavior. will as a healer is very special to me :') and him learning this skill from his mom and his brother strengthens the theme of family also!

second - him being good with a hunting rifle was to showcase his quiet strength and capability (i'd also like to add that his dexterity on his dnd sheet is extremely high) -> he's a non-confrontational survivor. his strength shines from afar and is put on the backlight, but no one in the party thinks will is weak for his empathy. mike and lucas, in particular, are actually quite jealous of the fact that will is still able to see so much good in humanity and life while being so strong. of course, his connection to the upside down in st is mirrored in this au as well, where he has an innate understanding of how the infection works because of experience, observation and other story spoilers...

looking at the current poll results, it seems im going to be drawing lucas and max next :D see you for that!

[rehenys]

God, you're so handsome. ~ T.Wolff

TW: Implied smut, Age Gap, Smoking. Synopsis: Toto and George Russell's Sister are sneaking around.

God, he's so handsome in his vintage Merc and black Tom Ford glasses. With the sleeve of his black shirt casually rolled up, his muscular forearms catch the light. A wisp of smoke hangs between his parted lips as he waits for me at the end of the road, hoping my brother doesn't see us. I drop my duffle bag rushing into his arms and meeting his lips with a sinful kiss. His lustful eyes raked over my outfit, biting his lip But we both know time is of the essence.

Out on the open road of Monaco with the wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck, just us and the ocean. His palm lays flat on my exposed thigh, mindlessly drawing shapes, his fluffy hair tousled due to the wind. His skin was glowing due to the setting sun. We pause to watch the sunset. I lean back against his chest, nestled between his long legs, with his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips against my neck. While my phone rings in the back seat.

5 missed calls from George

It's midnight, and we're tangled up in his sheets. I'm nestled against his side, his warm skin pressed against mine. His hand slowly roams my hip and waist until the teasing becomes too much. I stand over his body, holding him like a python, he canʼt keep his hands off me or his pants on. His lips whispered my name like a prayer.

16 missed calls from George

DAY 2:

In the morning light, he's still as handsome as ever, with tousled hair and sleepy eyes. I press a soft kiss to his jaw. As I try to untangle our limbs, his arms tighten around my waist. I flop back down, giving up on getting out of my safe place. After all, who needs breakfast?

Around mid-noon, we begrudgingly leave the bedroom to have ‘breakfastʼ. Who would have thought Toto Wolff would look so good making eggs? His bare torso is covered in an apron, his dexterous fingers wrapped around the whisk. I just intently stare at him making us breakfast, simply mesmerised, which he notices, he winks before giving me a bowl of strawberries to snack on. We share Crêpeʼs with whipped cream, with my feet in his lap; our lips swollen and his marble skin covered in purple splotches.

26 missed calls from George

It's the dead of night, and he sits on the sofa with his spectacles on, furiously typing away on his laptop, his hair messy from running his hand through it, his face set in a scowl. I just made his favourite Pumpernickel bread, and I have about 45 minutes to kill while it bakes. He looks too delicious right now for me to resist. I stand in front of him with an innocent smile, slowly moving his laptop away. His brown eyes crinkle with excitement, His lips find mine as I tug on his hair, gently massaging it to soothe the sting. He chuckles against my lip, his large palms sinking into my skin as my fingers nimbly unbutton his white shirt. My lips meet the skin between his neck and shoulder, his head thrown back in pleasure.

38 missed calls from George 

DAY 3:

The next morning, I grab my phone while Torger is in the shower, to see a flurry of texts from my brother cussing me out, asking where I am. I calm him down, listing more lies to cover up our trial and he blindly trusts me, my heart heavy with guilt but he would never understand. I repeat it in my head like a mantra till that guilt settles when Toto takes me into his arms, kissing away my problems.

We lay on the couch as I read out loud, my hand running through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut. God, he's so handsome.

I chuckle, my darling all worn out. The simple domesticity of this week has me longing for more. we need to tell my brother, but how can I, this wasn't meant to happen but if I could go back in time I wouldn't change a thing. but my brother wouldn't understand, he has always been protective of his baby sister, and I know he would blow a fuse if he realised I was with his long-time mentor.

Our peaceful weekend had come to an end when he parked at the end of the road; back where we started, His face seemed to be set in a permanent scowl during the drive back. A chaste kiss and I walked up the road back home nodding at the security guard as he let me in giving me a sorrowful look. Stepping through the threshold of my house I switch to being the perfect sister and daughter of The Russells.

I happily greet my brother, feeding lies about my girl's weekend like I didn't spend the whole weekend in bed with his Boss and Mentor. As I head up the stairs he complements my outfit, I thank him with a soft smile but beneath that pretty pink Chanel dress he brought are the bruised hand prints of Torger Wolff with love bites to match.

[provide-milk]

Do You Know What You're Doing To Me?

Pt 1

Summary: You're down bad for Ford Pines and believe that he will never reciprocate your crush. Little do you know what's truly on his mind. That's how you find yourself in expensive lingerie, waiting for the time to go by.

Notes: Inspired by @chillinglyadventurous! Go check out their work! Specifically inspired by "Sneaking Around."

WARNING! ⚠️MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+⚠️

You paced the floor of your kitchen anxiously while wearing a short slip dress with expensive lingerie underneath that you had bought just for the occasion. You kept turning on your phone to check the time. 

“Come on…” 

It was the first time you and Ford were going to be alone together for such a long period of time. Your somewhat innocent flirting seemed to have snowballed into whatever this was. When you had first seen him walk out of that portal you were immediately smitten. He walked with an air of confidence (and somewhat arrogance), it enchanted you. But you thought he was too old for you. Why would he take a second look at a girl who was barely turning 29? You thought your crush was a lost cause for sure and tried to not put any hope on it.

You thought.

As you checked out the silver fox everytime he walked into the room, you decided why not try at least to gain his attention. 

“Ford!” You exclaimed as he walked into the gift shop.

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you. God he was so fine.

“Yes?”

“Can you help me organize these postcards?”

He looked at you a bit confused as to why you would need help at such a simple task, but nonetheless obliged, walking over to you. Your heart was already pounding out of your chest just at his look. 

“Please just bend me over right now.” you thought to yourself.

As he helped you organize the postcards you brushed up against his arm slightly with your torso. 

“I’m sorry.” you choked out,definitely not as smooth as the way you intended. You saw him tense up

“It’s no problem…” he responded rather quietly.

Dammit, that did not go as planned.

You sighed and reached for a card, not paying attention to the fact that Ford was reaching for the exact same one. You grabbed his hand absentmindedly. 

Oh shit.

You looked up at Ford to see him staring at your hand on top of his. You both froze and was that… redness across his cheeks? No, you had to be seeing things.

“I’m so sorry.” You managed to stutter out once again.

This time Ford did not respond and instead pulled his hand away quickly.

“I think you got all the help you need now.” 

You watched as he walked in the opposite direction, wanting to bang your head against the cash register. Meanwhile you were unaware of the fact that Stanely was watching this all go down. He went towards you and leaned against the cash register as you tried to collect yourself. 

“I didn’t expect you to like older men like that.” Stan joked with a cheeky grin.

“I do not!” You exclaimed.

“Oh don’t lie to me kid. I’ve seen that look in your eyes from tons of women back in my day. I know what it means.”

You took a deep breath. “Ok and so what. I might have a little crush on-”

“My twin brother who’s way too old for a young girl like you.” Stanley interrupted.

,It’s just an innocent crush. It’s no biggie.”

He looked at you distrustfully. “Well just know that nothing is gonna come from it. Don’t get your hopes up. Point-dexter over there only cares about his work and I like to think he has enough morals not to date a young girl like yourself.”

“Ok Stan…” You replied, disappointedly.

After that day, you swore the energy between Ford and you shifted. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Both of you would catch each other gazing at one another and would quickly turn your heads. Ford and you somehow kept ending up in close proximity, whether that was sitting next to each other in the back seat on trips to the store or “accidentally” bumping into one another or grazing each torsos barely. These slight touches drove you wild and at night you would repeat them over and over again in your head, hoping that somehow they had some type of meaning. He began to give you soft smiles as evidence that he noticed you in the room. 

One day as you were cleaning, preparing for the tourists coming in, Ford gave you that soft smile of recognition, you replied with a good morning.

In his gruff morning stricken voice, he replied, “Good morning dear.” Before walking away nonchalantly and that was enough to drive you crazy for the rest of the day. 

One day you decided to push your luck.

He leaned against the wall as he told you a story about when he encountered a multibear for the first time. It had 6 heads? No, that wasn’t right. Maybe 7? 5? You could hardly pay attention to his tale, as you were enraptured by the animated way he was talking to you with glee across his face. You’d never seen him like this before. It seemed that he was slowly getting more comfortable about you. You touched his shoulder gently, as you giggled as he impersonated the bear.   

“You’re so charming Ford.”

Oh shit. You said that out loud. 

You saw Stan from the other side of the room whip his head around to give you a frown. 

You looked up at Ford to see him rubbing the back of his neck with his hand with a look on his face that showed that he was deep in thought.

“I’ve never been called that before but… I suppose I can be.”

Well, you were already testing the waters. Might as well go in the deep end.

You leaned in a little closer, your hand leaving his shoulder to his bicep.

“Oh Ford, you’re more than charming to me.” You said softly, this time in a more flirtatious manner.

Ford froze completely and you could see the blood rushing towards his face.

“Ah… I-”

“Alright sweetheart, enough talking with sixer. Why don’t you-uhhh- wipe the cash register. Yeah! That’s a good idea!” Stan butted in, grabbing you away by the hand. Ford awkwardly walked away, a blush still evident on his face.

“What are you doing?” Stan exclaimed quietly towards you.

“What do you mean?” You asked innocently.

“You know what you’re doing.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!” Stan took a deep breath. “Look…I don’t mind you having a crush on point-dexter over there, but let's keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh Ford, you’re more than charming to me!” Ford mocked in a high pitched voice.

“I was just complimenting him, jeez…”

“I don’t know what you’re plotting in that mind of yours, but whatever you’re thinking, stop it. You’re only gonna disappoint yourself. Go find some guy your own age instead of some narcissistic old geezer.”

“Ugh! Fine! I’ll leave him alone from now on…”

Stan gave you a pat on the back, “That’s my girl.”

But how were you supposed to stop when the tables began to turn.

You noticed for the past few days Ford was walking into the gift shop much more than usual after what you said. He would come over to tell you story after story of his adventures across dimensions. You began to look forward to them and they became a routine at a point. One day as he was talking, he stopped himself mid sentence.

“And that’s when I said…” He looked you up and down, his mind going off track. “Wow, you’re looking beautiful today.”

You somehow contained the squeal that you wanted to let loose in that moment.

“Well Ford, you’re always looking handsome.” You quipped back.

Instead of freezing like before, he gave you a wink. A wink!

You felt like your head was spinning after that interaction.

After that, flirtatious comments became part of the routine as well (hidden from Stan’s ears of course). As Ford was telling you yet another story, he leaned in closer to you.

“You know… I could show you some of what I’m writing if that’s ok with you?”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of your chest.

“I’d love that.”

And that’s how you found yourself in Ford’s underground laboratory. You stood near Ford as he sat down in his chair, flipping through the pages and explaining things to you. 

“And look at this-” He said pointing at a drawing before pausing to look up at you.

“What?”

“Oh it’s nothing…” He responded, quickly looking away. “It’s just that.. You’re really close to me right now.”

Fuck, now was your move for real this time.

“And why is that a problem?”

“Oh it’s not a problem…It’s just that-”

You lowered yourself to look him in the eyes, “Ford… Let’s stop ignoring the elephant in the room.”

“Elephant in the room? Ahh… You seem to be mistaken! I-”

“Ford. Please.” You pleaded with begging eyes. “I can’t keep living like this…” Your eyes went to his lips and it was not unnoticed by Ford. “I need you.”

Ford was completely stunned and at a loss for words. You leaned in closer to him, your faces just centimeters away from each other’s. Ford took a deep breath.

“You know I’m way too old for you dear.” He said barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Your eyes on his lips still. 

“And that I only care about my work.”

“I know”

“And that I have a lot of… issues..”

“I know”

“And that-”

You kissed him softly but quickly, barely giving him enough time to register what just happened. It was silent, the only sound being both of your breathing which was getting deeper and deeper. Ford became silent for what felt like forever, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts, thinking about his next move meticulously. 

“Oh the hell with it.”

You both were overcome with passion in that moment, immediately reaching out for one another. Your lips meshed against his and Ford’s hands went straight towards your hips, pulling you onto his lap roughly, making you straddle him. You both moaned softly into each other’s mouths. You could hardly keep up with Ford as he mercilessly kissed you. You were taken aback how firmly he was kissing you and how his hands began to slide up the inside of the hem of your shirt. You felt like the parts of your body under his fingertips were on fire. You loved it. You loved feeling him indulge in his desire that he had tried to hold back so desperately. 

He forced his tongue inside your mouth and you groaned as you began to suck on it.You could feel the heat pool between your legs and you began to grind yourself against Ford. It’s not like he was any better though. You felt his growing erection against the inside of your thighs. Your body tingled as his hands went higher and higher until his fingers were slowly creeping under the straps of your bra.

“Ford.” You gasped, finally pulling your lips away from his.

You looked down at Ford. His chest was heaving, skin flushed, and hair messed up. God, he looked sexy. He seemed to gain consciousness a few seconds later and quickly removed his hands from under your shirt.  

“Shit…” He whispered, almost to himself. “I didn’t-fuck-mean to go that far. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I-.”

“Can I suck you off?” You said between pants.

Ford looked entirely taken aback, blinking at you blankly.

“...What did you say?”

“Can I suck you off?” You replied, this time more confidently.

He combed his hand through his hair and you could tell he was tempted. Talk about kicking a man while he’s already down.

“Sweetheart… This was already more than enough. We really shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place.”

“But Ford…” You grinded against his erection. He groaned in response. “I can tell you want this. We both want this.”

Ford was mesmerized by your eyes which were darkened with lust. It was a sight he thought he would only be able to dream about.

“This is insane…” he muttered. “I think we should end here.” He started to stand up, picking you up before placing you down. 

You looked at him with pleading eyes, “Please Ford.”

He was ashamed by the way his dick twitched in response and took a defeated sigh, “You should be getting back to work now. I’ve kept you down here long enough…”

He sat back down, avoiding eye-contact with you, but his face was still a slight shade of pink. 

“Fine.” You muttered before leaving the lab, still in a daze from what just happened, almost bumping into the wall. 

When you were out of sight, Ford looked down at his unrelenting boner. He grunted as he hesitantly placed his six fingers against it and palmed himself. He felt like he was fighting demons as his hand reached towards his zipper bit by bit. He smacked his own hand, having both of them fall to his side. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Dear Lord, does she even know what she’s doing to me?”  

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 8

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: The next few days pass by in a rush, but you've never been happier. That is until Scott reappears and decides to restart old drama. Word Count: 3872 TW: Heavy Making Out, Kissing, Undressing Each Other, Grinding, Tyler Picks Reader Up Briefly, Fingering, Confrontation, Family Drama, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, and @seeyalaterinnovator for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever and @green-socks for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

The next five days passed in a blur, yet they were some of the best of your life. Every morning, Tyler met you at your door with a smile and a kiss. Then you’d walk downstairs together and join the other Wranglers for breakfast. Afterward, you packed up and rode with Tyler and Boone as you chased after a few tornados. 

While you no longer had that initial anxiety like you did on your first chase, you never got tired of the breathtaking feeling as the storm hit the front of the truck and you passed through the heart of the funnel. That rush of adrenaline surging through you never lessened, and you understood why the Wranglers continued to do this after so long. 

After each chase, Boone and Lily reviewed the footage he captured, Dani inspected Tyler’s truck for any damage, and Dexter began checking for any more potential storms forming in the area. Meanwhile, you and Tyler would sneak off for some time alone together. Sometimes it would be in the bed of his truck, sometimes in the middle of an empty field, and, one time, even on the top of Dani and Dexter’s van. 

Most of the time, you kept things fairly PG—just some making out, snuggling against his chest while he held you, or him laying his head in your lap while you played with his hair. But occasionally, things would drift into a little more mature nature. You still had only known Tyler for less than a week and didn’t want to move too quickly, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. A few times after an exceptionally exhilarating storm or when Tyler was being extra sweet, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding against him as his hand cupped your breasts. 

These moments often ended with the two of you panting heavily next to each other while you gave Tyler a few minutes to calm down so he could walk back to the rest of the crew. Though you knew you weren’t fooling anyone about what you were getting up to, no one said anything. However, you did catch Boone, Dani, and Lily exchanging a few pointed glances and snickering. If Tyler noticed, he didn’t let on. He just wrapped his arm across your shoulders and walked towards his truck with a big ol’ grin on his face.

Then, later once everyone had settled into their new accommodations for the night, Tyler would walk you to your room and say good night. Every time it became harder and harder to watch him walk away. You wanted him so badly and not just on a physical level. Sure, he was the most attractive man you’d ever kissed, but the more you learned about him—the more you got to know his personality, humor, and intelligence— the more you needed him to fuck your brains out. 

But that was the old you talking. The new you was trying to restrain yourself and build a solid foundation before taking this steer for a ride, but damn if it wasn’t frustrating. To make matters worse, you had planned to spend this trip with your brother, potentially sharing a room, so you hadn’t packed anything that would help you work out those frustrations. So every night when Tyler left you alone—lightheaded, wet, and needy—all you had was the almost non-existent pressure from the motel shower head and your own hand for any relief. 

As much as you were trying to behave, all it was going to take was one small thing for your cracking resolve to crumble completely.

The Wranglers changed motels almost every night since the storms sometimes took them hours away from where they started their day. However, all the chasers tended to follow the same storm cells so they all ended up in roughly the same location each night. 

Since receiving Javi’s note, you had spotted Scott several times. Sometimes it was at a gas station or a dinner, but most often it was at the motel as everyone settled in for the night or prepared to roll out in the morning. In each instance, you tried your best to stay out of his sight or not draw attention to yourself. At this point, you honestly couldn’t care less about what Scott thought of you or your being here. All of your focus was now on Tyler and the Wranglers. However, you knew Scott was still angry you were hanging around so you figured it was just easier to avoid him than to continue to poke the very grumpy, gum-chewing bear. 

But apparently, he had other plans.

On your ninth day in Oklahoma, Tyler picked you up at your room like always, planting a kiss on your lips and sliding your backpack onto his shoulder as soon as you opened the door. However, it was only when you were both at the bottom of the stairs that you remembered you had left your toothbrush on the sink to dry. He offered to run back and get it for you, but you waved him off, insisting you could go while he loaded everything into the truck. You could see it went against every courteous bone in his body, but he reluctantly agreed though you could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared at the top of the stairs. 

Luckily, you hadn’t returned your key to the drop box yet so you could enter the room, grab your toothbrush (which was sitting smack in the middle of the counter clear a day), and hurry back to the stairs all in less than thirty seconds. 

Crossing the parking lot, you spotted Tyler storing your backpack in the back of the truck and were about to start jogging over when a voice from behind you said, “So, it’s been over a week. When are you going to call off this little charade of yours?”

Sighing, you stopped and turned to face your brother. “It’s not a charade. I like the Wranglers and I’m having fun. I’m sorry if you don’t like that, but I’ve tried to stay out of your way. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

Standing with his hands on his hips and his sunglasses tucked into his button-down’s front pocket, he snapped. “I want you to go home.”

“Scotty—”

“And stop calling me that!” Scott’s nostrils flared as his eyes burned beneath the bill of his hat. “I’m not ten anymore and this is still my place of work even if you treat it like a theme park. Some of us are trying to do a job while you play daredevil and make out with your latest boy toy.”

You knew he was pushing for a fight, but you physically bit your tongue to not take the bait. Ignoring his last outburst, you answered his previous question in a calm voice. “I’ll go home in a few days like I planned. Until then…Scott…” You dipped your head and resumed your walk. 

Looking ahead, you noticed Tyler had stopped packing and was leaning against the side of the truck, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes following your every step. You could tell by his rigid posture and stony expression that he heard what you and Scott said. You were about to give him a small wave to let him know everything was alright, but, before you could, Scott called after you.

“Hey! What is it that you want? An apology?” he shouted, his face turning slightly red. “You want me to say I’m sorry for getting angry that you showed up unannounced to where I work with the hope of just inserting yourself into the middle of a dangerous and highly complex situation? You want me to say I’ve learned my lesson after watching you throw yourself at Owens every chance you get? Hmm? That watching him jam his tongue down my little sister’s throat while broadcasting it to the entire fucking world showed me how wrong I was? Would that make you happy?”

Turning back around, you said, “I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to and you mean it. But, you know what—” you threw your arms into the air “—you were right.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly as he examined you, searching for what kind of trick you were trying to pull now. “I was?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “I shouldn’t have just showed up without asking first but I knew if I had, you’d have told me no. Well, actually, you’d have told me ‘fuck no’. So I figured it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission and I just showed up. I did fall back on that self-centered, ‘everything works out for me’ person I once was and I’m sorry. It was exactly that behavior I came here to show you I had outgrown.”

Taking a few steps closer to your brother, you added, “But, Scott, let's be real. You wouldn’t have actually answered my phone calls or texts if I had tried to ask. We barely ever talk and the only times I see you are at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and, occasionally, someone’s birthday. But I wanted to change that. I wanted to try to rebuild this relationship before it was too late. Before we drift so far apart that there’s no finding a way back. I still want my big brother in my life, but now I’m afraid all I did was push you even further away.”

You waited for him to say something, to assure you he still wanted that too or that you had screwed things up past the point of redemption. But when he just stared at the ground with his jaw clenched, you nodded, wiping a tear from your cheek. “So, I promise, I’m done playing games or trying to force a relationship between us. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible while I’m here but I’m not ready to leave yet. I know that may not be fair to you and I’m sorry. I’ll see about staying at a different motel than Storm PAR from now on—one less place for you to have to see me.” You turned to leave, but paused to add, “The next time I’ll contact you is right before I leave. That way you’ll know when I’ll be out of your hair. Until then, you have my number if you change your mind and want to talk.” Wiping a few more tears off your face as you walked away.

It hurt, being so vulnerable and laying out how you felt only to get absolutely no response in return. You hadn’t expected Scott to wrap you in a tight hug and promise things would be sunshine and rainbows from here on out, but you had hoped he would at least acknowledge your feelings in some way. But then again, this was Scott you were talking about. You couldn’t remember the last time he had ever given you a hug or compliment that he wasn’t forced into giving you. Maybe it was time to just let him go and stop trying to force something that was never going to happen. Maybe both of you would be happier in the long run.

As you neared, Tyler pushed off the side of the truck and asked, “Everything okay or do I need to step in?”

“Nah, we’re good. But thank you for offering.” You wrapped your arms around Tyler’s waist, leaning your head on his shoulder as he returned the embrace. Smiling into his chest, you said, “And thank you for not just coming over and jumping in when you saw things starting to get heated. Most guys I know would have barged over the minute they saw us and it would have turned into a huge fight. Instead, I was able to say some things that needed to be said.”

“I knew you could handle yourself.” He squeezed you tighter. Then he muttered, “Besides, I’m not most guys.”

“I’ve noticed,” you grinned as you recalled a similar conversation the two of you had the first morning he had picked you up at your room. “And I’m so grateful for that.” 

He kissed the top of your head then released you. “So, we ready to go?”

You nodded and he opened the passenger door to his truck. As he helped you in, you looked up to see Scott watching you. Since you had last seen him, he had slipped his sunglasses on so you had trouble reading his expression. You gave him a nod with a small smile but he just turned and disappeared behind Scarecrow. You felt Tyler squeeze your hand and knew he noticed the exchange as well. Taking a deep breath, you finished climbing in and settled into your seat. But as Tyler drove his truck from the parking lot, you couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your gut that that might have been the last time you saw your brother for a long time.

Looking out the window, you stared at the empty fields whooshing past. Everything here was so open and untouched. Normally, you viewed it as a nice change from the crowded, bustling city you came from, but today, it just made you feel so small and alone. 

As if sensing what you were feeling, Tyler reached over and took your hand as he drove. You gave it a quick squeeze of acknowledgment but your eyes remained gazing out the window. Boone had opted to ride with Lily until you reached a potential storm, so the only sound that filled the cab was the soft droning of country music turned down so low you couldn’t make out any of the lyrics. It was a far cry from the joyous laughter and deep conversations the two of you usually shared on these rides, but with your talk with Scott running through your head, you couldn’t focus on much else.

After about twenty minutes, Tyler finally broke the silence. “Hey, something you said to Scott got me thinking…”

“Hmm?” You ran your finger over a smudge of dust on the passenger’s window. “About what?”

“Why don’t you stay?”

Snapping out of your ruminations, your head whipped around to look at Tyler. “W-what?”

“I mean, you’re only supposed to be here for another five days, right?” He shrugged, “But what if you stayed longer?”

You blinked, suddenly realizing you and Tyler had never talked about your upcoming departure or what that would mean for the two of you. “I-I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. Do…do you want me to stay?”

Tyler chuckled, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to. I realize eventually this’ll have to come to an end or something’ll have to change, but I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before that happens.”

“Oh.” You felt the heat rushing to your face and a smile creeping across your lips. “In that case, I mean, I have classes starting soon that I’d have to be back for. But, yeah, since you want me to, I think I could manage a week or so longer than I originally planned. I’ll just have to call and move my flight.”

“I’d really like that,” Tyler said with a grin. “And let me know what it costs to change it. I’ll take care of it.”

Tears filled your eyes. You had the money, it was not an issue. But Tyler’s offer just solidified in your mind how much he actually wanted you to stay. He wasn’t just suggesting it to cheer you up after talking to Scott—he meant it. 

With a slight tremble in your voice, you said, “Ty, I—”

“Hope I’m not interrupting you lovebirds, but Dex just spotted a potential cell to the east forming fast.”

Dani’s voice cut through the cabin. You knew Tyler’s radio had been switched off so no one heard what you had been talking about, but you still sunk back in your seat. 

Tyler shot you an apologetic look then switched on his radio and responded. “We copy. Let’s pull off up here. Dexter can show us where we’re heading, Lily, we’ll need you to get Cairo ready to fly, and Boone, come join us up here once we park. Sound good?”

“All good, boss,” came the echoed reply. 

Tyler switched the radio back off and glanced at you. “Anything else you wanna say before things get crazy or you wanna pick up this conversation later?”

“We can talk later. Thank you, Tyler.”

He squeezed your hand before turning his focus back to the road as he looked for a place to pull off. You leaned your head against the window and stared back out at the field, the gears already turning in your head. 

You didn’t want to talk. If today had shown you anything, it was that you were ready to show Tyler how you felt. 

No one commented or asked questions when Tyler informed the crew that they would be staying at a motel a little farther away than originally planned. You had been nervous about asking him to go to a different motel than Storm PAR, but apparently, he heard your promise to Scott and remembered without you having to say a word. Taking his hand from where it rested on the center console, you kissed the back of it before resting your cheek against it. Tyler glanced over at you and smiled, acknowledging your silent ‘thank you’.

Usually, Tyler walked you to your room as soon as the vehicles were parked and your bag was unloaded. However, tonight you insisted on staying downstairs to help everyone with their nighttime routines. Tyler seemed a little surprised but was more than happy for your company. He showed you all the checks he, Boone, and Dani ran on the truck each night to ensure everything was still functioning correctly. Lily let you help her charge up Cairo and download all the footage she captured today. And Dexter asked you to prep the food for breakfast in the morning. You never realized how much the Wranglers had to do each night while you sat alone in your motel room. But you promised to help out from now on.

When everything was finally done, Tyler grinned widely at you—his dimples on full display—and grabbed your bag. The two of you didn’t talk as he walked you to your room, but you snuggled close to him, listening to his heart beating beneath your cheek. 

Far too soon, you reached your room. Just like every night, you unlocked the door and Tyler handed you your backpack. However, tonight instead of keeping ahold of the bag, you tossed it inside the room, not bothering to look where it landed. 

Turning back to Tyler, you fluttered your eyelashes and asked, “So, Mr. Owens, care to join me inside?”

Tyler's eyes grew wide as he swallowed, his Adam's apple leaping in his throat. Stepping closer until he towered over you, he whispered, “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, just a soft dip of your head. “I think it’s time I invited this cowboy in.” And you stepped back to give him space to enter the room. 

You knew it wasn’t your smoothest pick-up line, but when all you could think about was how much you needed him, you were surprised you could string a coherent sentence together. However, Tyler didn’t seem to mind. He hesitated for a second then stepped over the threshold into your room. 

For the past few days, you and Tyler had been making out every chance you got, yet the energy between you already felt so different. This time, you both knew there was no need to hold back. The second the door clicked shut, Tyler grabbed your waist and spun you around. Driving you backward, he pinned you against the door with his body as his lips ensnared yours. You melted against him with a moan. Running your fingers under his cowboy hat, you tugged on his hair as his tongue slipped between your lips. 

Needing to feel more of him against your skin, you pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side. Tyler stumbled back for a moment, his eyes drinking you in, and then he launched forward, sweeping you into his arms. His mouth latched onto your collarbone and he began to suck hungrily as if his life depended on it. You could already tell you would have a mark there in the morning, but you didn’t dare tell him to stop. 

As he helped you shimmy out of your shorts, your fingers fumbled blindly with the buttons on his flannel shirt. You moaned into his mouth as your hands brushed against his muscular bare chest for the first time. Your fingers traveled lower, tracing along his firm stomach until you felt his coarse trail of hair leading down to the top of his jeans, and your core clenched against nothing. The emptiness within you was becoming unbearable.

You moaned as you rubbed against him, “Ty, I need you inside me. Please. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Detaching himself from your neck, he murmured, “Patience is a virtue, my beautiful girl. And you’ve been so good.” You whimpered as the praise shot straight through you. “Now it’s time for your reward.”

Lifting you up, Tyler carried you over to your bed. He laid you down gently on the edge then stood back to gaze down at you. However, as you reached back to unhook your bra, he grabbed your hands before you could slip it off.

Chest heaving, he stared deep into your eyes. “Sweetheart, if you want to stop—”

Shoving him away, you let your bra drop to the floor as you demanded, “Take your pants off.”

That was all Tyler needed to hear. Quickly, he yanked off his boots and unclasped his trademark buckle, the metal clinking loudly as he tore his jeans off and tossed them to the other side of the room. Standing there in nothing but his black boxer briefs, he was a sight to behold but you wanted more. 

And, always the gentleman, Tyler seemed ready to oblige.

Pulling you down so your ass rested on the edge of the bed, Tyler hooked one finger into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them off. Hunger darkened his usually pale green eyes as the last of your clothes joined the pile on the floor. He groaned and palmed himself through his underwear and you felt a rush of pride that you could make him react like that. 

Running one hand through his hair, you tugged on it so he looked at your face. “I know you’re out of practice, Mr. Ex-Bull Rider, but I expect you to last more than eight seconds.”

He chuckled as he grabbed your knees and thrust your legs apart. Slowly, he slid two fingers into his mouth and pulled them out with a pop. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about me.” 

He plunged his fingers deep into you, causing you to collapse back onto the bed as your world went white. 

Part 9 coming 10/7!

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[happy74827]

Contagiously Human.

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}

WC: 1881

Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?

Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️

Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.

『••✎••』

Hesitation.

The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.

He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.

His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.

He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.

So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.

It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?

Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.

So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.

Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.

You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.

So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.

A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.

He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.

When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.

You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.

You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.

He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.

He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.

That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.

A romance novel, of course. How ironic.

"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."

You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.

"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.

Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."

You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.

"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"

"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."

"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”

Shit.

He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.

You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?

First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.

"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."

"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.

"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."

"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.

"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.

"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?

"My aura?"

"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”

"And that means...?"

"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."

Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.

"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.

“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"

"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.

He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.

"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."

Damn.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."

"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.

"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?

"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry, am I being too honest?"

"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.

But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.

You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.

He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.

He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.

Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.

You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.

Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.

"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."

"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.

He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.

Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…

Hesitation.

[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀

That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨

Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.

[natalievoncatte]

Lena could feel the weight in her hand. A little extra swing in her fist as she walked, sending a jolt up her arm as she jogged up the steps to Kara’s apartment. She’d decided to walk today, to clear her head a little as she went to see her best friend. She had a lot on her mind lately- usual Luthor stuff like defusing random death traps that Lex left behind, fending off attempts to dethrone her as CEO and challenge her status as he brother’s heir, and cures for intractable diseases and solutions for the energy crisis and thorny ethical issues around the advance project department’s latest AI experiments… and Kara.

Kara was on her mind. She had a way of sneaking into Lena’s mind at the most inopportune moments, like a board meeting, or a symposium, or her TED talk. It was really a TEDx talk; the organization wasn’t *quite* ready to invite Lena to the real deal, no matter how many photo ops she did with Supergirl or cancer research facilities she paid for. That didn’t stop Kara from following her around saying “thanks for listening to my Ted talk” for three weeks after the fact.

She had been thinking about Kara so much that it had finally been noticed. Sam flew in from Metropolis earlier that week for a catch up lunch, and as usual, after business was handled they shared a bottle of wine and things grew informal.

“Lena,” Sam said. “I’ve been talking for five minutes and you’ve been holding that glass of rosé and staring at it for the entire time. What’s going on?”

Lena almost dropped the glass when she heard her name. “Oh, right. Yes. Wine.”

She took a sip, hoping Sam would drop her question, but she persisted.

“I know that look. You were miles away. What is it? Did the cure for cancer pop into your head?”

“No,” Lena said. “It’s nothing, I was just lost in thought.”

“Mmm,” said Sam. “I’m sure.”

“What?”

Sam smiled enigmatically and finished her wine. “I’d better get going. I’m taking a red eye back to Metropolis.”

“Sam, you’re flying on a Lexcorp charter. It doesn’t work that way.”

Sam snorted and left Lena sitting there, wondering what that was about. Of course she’d been daydreaming about Kara, about her hands specifically- she’d nodded off last weekend and woke to see Kara at her ease, brow furrowed and hands moving wildly as she painted something. Lena had remained still and watched, fascinated by Kara’s hands, the skill and dexterity she showed.

It was that day that Kara had passed her the key she now carried in her hand. A key to Kara’s apartment. Unfettered access. Lena didn’t have to knock (she would anyway) and could stop by when Kara wasn’t even there. She hadn’t said anything but she’d been holding back tears the entire ride home; Lena had no problems with *access*, but trust was another matter. That was what the key was. It was a talisman of trust, Kara’s confidence in her given form.

Lena did knock before she turned the key and swung the door open. She was expected, but part of her worried that Kara wouldn’t be alone. It seemed odd to Lena that Kara hadn’t started dating again- her best friend had taken the whole Mon-El thing very poorly, and it was bizarre to begin with, so Lena understood why she’d stay single for a while, but it had been years.

Years of kindling a soft, secret hope, a desire so fragile and so brittle that Lena rarely dared think of it, afraid that the tiniest brush of longing would crumble it and with it break something inside her permanently.

The apartment smelled like cookies. Burnt cookies. Kara was in the kitchen, brow furrowed, bent in concentration over a cookbook, eyes darting to a mixing bowl. Foul smelling attempted cookies practically filled the garbage can.

“Hey,” Kara said, cheerfully. She gave Lena a soft, gentle smile that seemed only for her, and brushed a loose gold curl from her eyes. “You’re early.”

“I wanted more Kara time,” said Lena. “I was hoping to get a few minutes alone with you before the few shows up. Just us.”

Kara looked at her curiously, then turned to her project.

“I can’t get this right. I cream the sugar like it says, but they keep coming out wrong.”

Lena moved closer, stopping her hand from seeking the small of Kara’s back. When she saw the carton of cream on the counter, she busted out laughing so hard she snorted.

“What?” said Kara.

“Darling, you don’t put actual cream in it. Here, let me help you.”

For the next half hour, Lena and Kara made cookie dough, laboriously, by hand. Every step brought them closer together, literally. By the time they were scooping out evenly sized blobs of it together, they were hip to hip, both floured and sugared, hands greasy with butter.

“I’ll pop them in the oven,” said Kara. “You go clean up and relax.”

“Alright,” Lena said.

She ended up on the couch. Game night would begin hours later, and Lena turned on a nature documentary. (She had her own distinct username on Kara’s Netflix.)

Lena must have dozed off, because the alarm on the oven, along with a warm, pleasant, homey smell, woke her up. She padded on her stocking feet into the kitchen to see how the cookies came out.

Kara had already taken them out and was holding the tray, hot from the oven. Something was off. It nagged at Lena’s mind.

Then it hit her. Kara seemed to realize at the same time.

She wasn’t wearing oven mitts. No heating pad. Not even a dish towel. Kara was holding the hot tray, fresh from the oven, in her bare hands.

Lena yelped. “Kara! You’ll burn yourself!”

Kara started to move. A cry rose on her lips, then died. She stared at Lena with such softness, her eyes full of hesitation, but more than that, a kind of longing that echoed Lena’s own soul.

“I’m tired of lying to you,” Kara said, still holding the tray. “It doesn’t hurt. I can barely feel it.”

They stood for a frozen moment that lasted an eternity, the truth just on the wrong side of revealing itself. Lena already knew, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Say it.

“You’re Supergirl,” Lena whispered, soft and breathy.

Kara nodded, starting to choke up. She put the tray down almost violently and stepped back.

“I’ll understand if you need time, if you’re angry, if you don’t want to continue our friendship-“

She didn’t finish her ramble. Lena crossed the space between them in three quick steps, firmly took Kara’s face between her palms, and kissed her.

Pure terror gripped her. What if she was wrong? What if this was a mistake? Why wasn’t Kara moving, responding, reacting?

That question responded when hands that could crush diamonds moved her her body with surpassing tenderness, turning the awkward kiss into something more, Kara guiding Lena as their bodies molded together and Kara kissed her back with hopeful desperation, drawing it out as if she was afraid to let it end for fear it might never be repeated.

It was, intimately and immediately. Lena was shocked but pleased when Kara let Lena push her back against the counter, bending her back lightly, almost climbing her. Kara almost shocked Lena when her hand slid up her side and found her breast even as Lena grabbed a double handful of steely buns and squeezed.

Then someone coughed and they jerked apart.

Alex stood by the door, arms folded.

“I’m going to go ahead and text the others so they know game night is cancelled,” she said, smirking. “Next time, hang a sock on the doorknob or something.”

“This is my house,” said Kara.

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving now.”

As the door slammed shut, and Alex could plainly be heard blurting, “Jesus Christ,” Lena turned back to Kara.

“Should we talk?” she said, her voice small. “What is this? What are we doing?”

Kara swallowed, hard. “What do you want it to be, Lena?”

Lena couldn’t answer. She just stared.

“I know what I want it to be,” said Kara. “I want us to be an us. I’m so tired of wanting you so bad it hurts, but being scared to touch you a certain way or look too long or too openly or be afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. I’m tired of hiding so much from you.”

Lena licked her lips.

“The truth is, I’ve wanted you for years.”

Kara’s gorgeous eyes lit up with unbridled delight, and with shocking quickness, Kara had Lena in a bridal carry. Lena instinctively curled up in her arms, practically wrapping herself around Kara’s body.

“What do you want to do now?” said Kara. “I don’t know how to do this part, Lena.”

Lena smiled. “I think what you do now is carry me back in the bedroom and cream your sugar.”

“You want to make more cookies? Why… oh.”

“Oh indeed,” said Lena.

Lena didn’t make a habit of it, but this one time, she let Kara talk her into cookies for breakfast.