#i mean it was raining pretty much all day

[love-byers]

"Not Kids Anymore" connection

who ordered more byler music coding??

alright, so the OST song that plays during the byler rain fight is titled "Not Kids Anymore", obviously quoting mike's line "But we're not kids anymore." the line that triggers the song, so the line that changes/emphasizes the tone, is "It's not my fault you don't like girls!". it cuts to will's reaction and the music begins. i know we all know the rain fight by heart, but i'm gonna add the dialogue anyway

Mike: Will, come on. You can't leave, it's raining. Hey, I said I was sorry, alright? It's a cool campaign it's really cool! We're just not in the mood right now.

Will: Yeah, Mike, that's the problem, you guys are never in the mood anymore! You're ruining our party!

Mike: That's not true!

Will: Really? Where's Dustin right now?

Mike: ...

Will: See? You don't know, and you don't even care, and obviously he doesn't either, and I don't blame him! You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

Mike: El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Will: ...

Mike: I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore. I mean what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Will: Yeah. I guess I did. I really did.

*Will gets on his bike and leaves*

Mike: Will. Will! Will come on!

we will come back to this in a moment

the only other time "Not Kids Anymore" has played is in s4 ep1. It plays when lucas dustin and mike are arguing over the basketball championship and hellfire. again i'm gonna show the entire convo just to have full context since it's pretty much all going to be relevant.

Lucas: I don't get the big deal. Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.

Dustin: "Just talk to Eddie."

Mike: Why don't you just talk to your coach and get him to move the game?

Dustin: I think that's a great idea, Mike!

Mike: Thank you, Dustin!

Lucas: This is the championship game!

Dustin: This is the end of Eddie's campaign! A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need you!

Mike: Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

Lucas: That's not the point.

Dustin: Please, arrive at the point.

Lucas: If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.

Mike: Has it ever occurred to you that we don't want to be popular?

Lucas: So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?

Dustin: We are nerds and freaks!

Lucas: Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Lucas: Look, I'm tired of being bullied. I'm tired of girls laughing at us. I'm tired of feeling like a loser. We came to high school wanting things to be different, right?

*Mike and Dustin nod*

Lucas: So now we have that chance. I skip tonight and that's all out the window. So I'm asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie, get him to move Hellfire. Come to my game. Please.

you're probably starting to see where i'm going with this lol

before i go into it i want to say that it is undeniable that these scenes are connected, clearly. there are over a hundred other songs in the ST OST albums and they chose this one. there is undoubtedly connections and subtext.

so clearly lucas is saying he is aware of the fact that he is a nerd/freak, but he doesn't want to be. he wants to get in with the popular crowd. hanging out with them and being on the basketball team despite always being on the bench is something he's doing on purpose, a choice he's making, because he wants to be perceived a certain way. he wants to be perceived as cool, as normal.

lucas is skipping out on dnd because he's trying to be normal.

so what's the connection here? is it just that lucas and mike both don't want to play dnd? cause that's not really the case, at least for lucas. he wants to play dnd, he just wants them to move it to a different night so he can go to the game. it's a cool campaign, it's really cool! we're just not in the mood right now.

lets compare some other lines from these two scenes

Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year. You're destroying everything, and for what?! So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

mike and will are both saying the sacrifice being made is stupid because the action is empty and boring and meaningless.

this also reminds me of that ted quote "You're on the bench, son." obviously talking to/about mike.

you could also look at it as will saying (not literally saying, but a coded way) that he actually needs mike while el does not, clearly, since all they do is make out meanwhile will genuinely loves mike and wants to connect with him. will needs mike. Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Yeah. I guess I did. I really did. We are nerds and freaks!

i feel like these are kind of self explanatory lol, i can't really think of anything to say about it

i guess the fact that they're both insinuating that this is what will happen to themselves if they don't act. lucas doesn't want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks, and mike doesn't want to be gay lmfao. dnd in mikes basement is canonically a metaphor for will's love for mike, so thats not delusional at all sorry

If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too. What did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends?

i've always found that mike line interesting. it's not the way someone who is in love talks about their bf/gf. mike didn't fall in love (at first sight), he got a girlfriend. he acquired a girlfriend. saying it like that kind of gives the implication that mike sees his relationship as an action that everyone must take at a certain point in their life, like it's just what you're supposed to do. that's what normal people do.

lucas knows what he is. he's a nerd, he's a freak, but wants to change. he wants to be perceived as cool and normal. and he is purposefully pulling away from his friends to spend time with other cool, normal people which will make him cool and normal too. and he wants his friends to want the same things he does.

Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

these are the lines that trigger the music, so the turning point of the scene, the climax. how are they similar? well, it seems like both of them are acknowledging a choice. lucas is acknowledging the choice of getting in with the popular crowd, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he has already made, and a choice he wants dustin and mike to make. soooo it seems like mike is acknowledging the choice of liking girls/dating girls, a choice he has already made, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he wants will to make (or is at least acknowledging that will has not made that choice yet, and that it's not mike's fault).

they are both acknowledging the choice to conform.

"It's forced confirming. That's what killing the kids. That's the real monster."

i will also point out the differences in the cinematography of these scenes. the rain fight is an over the shoulder (we can see the back of wills head and his shoulder in the corner) and is closer up than the s4 scene. the s4 scene is warm and colorful while the rain fight is pale and desaturated. that's color grading, which is all done in post production. basically, the rain fight is way more intimate and serious because this is an argument between two people who are in love, meanwhile the s4 scene is an argument between friends.

its also generally interesting that mike is in the both of these scenes, but on opposite sides. in the rain fight he is the one conforming, and in the s4 scene is anti-conformity. so if mike doesn't want to be popular, doesn't care if he's associated with nerds and freaks, proudly deems himself a nerd and freak, what was his deal in s3? easy question, he's queer. next

this parallel, in my opinion, carries over into another scene which i talked about in this post. it all makes a lot of sense tied together!

have a great day byler nation

[sahrii]

That’s Not True; Sugawara Koushi x fem!reader

synopsis; they’re friends, but they both want more.

wc; 666

warnings; idk slight hurt to comfort, being stood up, mutual pinning ig idk

@phantasmaebg

It was embarrassing.

Night has fallen, draping a twilight blanket over the horizon, specks of stars feebly shining above tired figures.

She was standing, a sense of awkwardness and embarrassment perpetuating inside of her, after having waited for this date too long only for him to never show up. And it wasn’t close to where she lived, she had to use the train to get there.

But now, she couldn’t be bothered. She couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to the train station. To deal with sticky bodies against her own, given that it’s rush hour and everyone is getting off work. She couldn’t be bothered, so she did the second best thing she could be bothered to do, and that was to call sugawara to come and pick her up.

And so he did, no questions was asked, no complaints where muttered, just a sweet and simple “I gotcha,” rolling from his sweet, sweet tongue into the speaker of the phone, and she was grateful for that.

A hush fell over them during the ride. She was staring out the window as threads of rain slid off its glass, her eyes trailing each racing droplet. She noticed how he was holding the steering wheel with one hand, moving it in an almost lazy manner. Her cheeks flushed.

The cars finally stopped as Sugawara reverse parked it. She looked around, trying to peak out of the humid, blurred windows.

“okay…I don’t have the best sense of direction but I’m pretty sure that’s not my apartment,” she said, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, I never said I am going to take you home,” he replied, snickering slightly.

“What?”

“I’m your date for today,”

Her lips slightly parted. She didn’t know what to say.

“Quit the jokes, suga,” she muttered, staring outside the window yet again, this time her chin was propped in her hand.

He was probably missing with me, she thought. We can’t just do this, she thought.

“Why would it be a joke?” he asked, voice coming out a bit more serious.

“Because we’ve been friends for ages?”

“So?” he questioned

“You can’t just take me out like that,”

“Hm, let’s see. What were you doing yesterday?” he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Lying on your bed?” she turned her head to look at him, slightly confused.

“Lying on my bed with me beside you,” he corrected.

“Your point?” she knew his point. Whatever they had was more than friends. She knew this much, but nothing else, or rather, she didn’t want to know anything else because it scares her.

Not seeing him for a day scares her. If they were to ever date and breakup, she’s scared that she’ll never get over him. She knows she’ll never get over him, after all, finding a guy like suga is probably as rare as spotting a four leaf clover amongst a field of blooming flowers.

“My point is, instead of dating shitty men, you can just date me,” he breathed.

“We’re better off as friends,”

“You know that’s not true,”

“But it is! If we ever broke up I’ll be damned,” she almost yelled, she didn’t mean to. But he just smiled in return.

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Yes it is,” she turned her head back to the window, hands feeling sweaty and clammy despite the cold weather.

“That’s got an easy solution. We’ll never break up,”

She snapped her head again. “Not very realistic,”

“It is,” he argued

“Just try, I promise you nothing bad will happen to us,”

She took a second to ponder over that thought. They’ve been friends for years. They’ve been like this for years. She’d like more, though. Maybe waking up and tasting his lips, or spending endless nights on end talking, his arms wrapped around her. She wanted that.

“Okay,” she breathed. There it was again, his signature smile, lopsided but she wouldn’t mind kissing it.

“Okay,” he returned, his breath slightly hitching.

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (8)

—  Pairing: Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 6.4k

—  Warnings: Reluctant allies to lovers, Implied/referenced sexual abuse, implied non-con, physical abuse, spousal abuse, stalking, violence, Angst

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! — 

(Yoongi, 113 days before)

When Yoongi first being taught the ropes of the family, the last beta, now dead- took him aside and taught him the ways of business.

She taught him how to think and how to breathe, how to manipulate and most importantly- how to lie. Her hand digging into his neck, her scent dulled by age but still stinky in his nose, something metallic, something like silver that he struggled not to pull away from. Her lips brush his ear. Yoongi never understood why she needed to get so close.

“Name the facts of the situation, and order them by level of importance, the solution should reveal itself to you without you having to do much more work.”

“What should I consider most important?” he’d ask, childlike eagerness, a willingness to be good- a weapon in her hands.

Her voice had gone low. “Whatever you want to consider important is important. Say what you want and the others will follow.”

Now, sitting on the bed in his hotel room, Yoongi thinks should count himself lucky. He’s the one person that your husband cannot refuse a request from. The one person from whom Geumjae cannot keep you.

Even Yoongi cannot deny that it sends a good message to the rest of the family. He can almost imagine the words that Geumjae might say. See the beta is checking in not only on me but on the people closest to me, she’ll vouch for my character because my wife knows best.

She’s a pretty thing your wife, your mate to be.

No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s all in good fun dude, don’t take it too seriously.

Yoongi insists over texts that the two of you go alone to look at jewelry. Yoongi wonders if you know that it’s just a simple ploy to learn more about you, to figure out the newcomer, and that he’s not really interested in anything beyond that. Geumjae need not waste his time with the affairs of an omega, he surely has more important things to do than go with you and help Yoongi pick out pretty things that sparkle.

He taps out the message on his phone, looking out over the city in the hotel room, bag packed on the bed a mess of torn through clothing that hardly smells like the pack at all. Not anymore.

New Number (11:32am): Thank fucking god, you know how boring all that frilly omega shit is to me.

New Number (11:32am): What’s mine is yours little bro

New Number (11:32am): Just not her.

Yoongi looks at the text for a long time, and then tosses his phone away.

The city is always rainy in the fall. The towering skyscrapers pierce the metallic clouds like a knife, and the rain hangs low. The rain is the only thing he can smell when he steps out of the taxi and into the street where you’ve agreed to meet. The scent of rain, cold and humid. You are already there on the sidewalk waiting. Peeking out from under the edge of your umbrella.

Yoongi did not bring one, he stands underneath the deluge of rainwater until you step close.

The heals you wear do little to provide you any real height, Yoongi still has to look down at you, but they do keep you out of the puddles, dark and reflective. You look every picture of a rich socialite. Designer bag, gaudy jewelry that clangs together when you reach to shake his hand. Your wedding band cold against his finger. Your introductions routine, formal. Your drop waist dress billows out from your hips gathering rain splotches.

It looks so out of character, so ill fitting, the dress several sizes bigger than would look flattering. You can’t be warm in it.

You’re still wearing the bracelets too; Yoongi wonders if you ever take them off- if Geumjae ever lets you. You smile at Yoongi when you see him, slow, it does not show your teeth.

Just not her.

“Did you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go, or is just the Cartier on 5th avenue fine for now Mr. Min?” You say, idly, your tone gentle, your words perfectly pronounced an enunciated. If you have any sort of accent, Geumjae has trained you out of it.

“Yoongi, you can call me Yoongi, I don’t mind.” Water drips onto the back of his neck. Yoongi feels like he’s under a microscope even though he’s only just next to you. You have your hair tied back again this time with a silk scarf- red with a dark blue boarder. Tiny cherry blossoms speckling it in an indistinct pattern. The only splotch of color on your entire outfit. The only thing that isn’t black.

Everything but your lips. There is a ridge across your bottom lip where you must have bitten them and bitten hard. Yoongi can see it through the lipstick, the family’s usual shade of crimson. Presented to all omega’s after presentation- or in your case- your marriage.  Yoongi wonders if it’s an anxiety tick or otherwise. But there is a tiny imperceptible gash there where it’s split, at the corner.

Your eyes widen, the perfect picture of coquettish surprise. Yoongi doesn’t believe it for a second. Yoongi knows you know better. He pauses on the sidewalk. He is not sure that he can trust you.

He offers his arm, and you are in no position to deny it. You wrap your arm around it gently, like you’re warry of putting too much of your body within reach. You fall into step beside him and Yoongi keeps his tone mild-mannered.

“Tell me, what’s it like being married to a psychopath?”

You pause, looking up at him, making eye contact without fear, Yoongi watches you breathe, watches you force yourself to make it slow.

“You’re the one who grew up with him. Why don’t you tell me?”

You step up to the front of the store and hold open the door for him, the front steps have red velvet on them, and a doorman holds open the interior for you. If you didn’t know what he’s like- you wouldn’t be asking me.

Yoongi steps past you.

“Don’t say it’s all bad.” He says, once a sales associate has been properly greeted and immediately dismissed. Your jewelry all but guarantees you entry and allowance here. Yoongi feels a little grubby by comparison in his ripped jeans and jacket. He gestures to the diamonds on your wrist, the one on your finger. The designer bag on your waist that costs more than what most people make per quarter.

You hold out your wedding ring to show him. You are not smiling. “I guess it’s not bad if you like expensive things.”

From anyone else, it would sound bratty, but you just sound tired. Yoongi takes it in, the ridge on your lips that must be from where you dig in your teeth, the bags under your eyes dotted with off color concealer, a similar discoloration he can see on the back of your hands and your throat when you look to some of the glass cases.

Yoongi moves with you, staying at your side. Gazing down at the things in the cases, the miniature serpents crafted into necklaces, bracelets, the flowers carved into earrings. All of it the finest that money can buy. All impressively ugly.

“Expensive is one way to put it.”

You breathe, and Yoongi watches it hitch. You look up at him, Yoongi sees the impulse to look away when you meet his eyes, sees you give into it.

“I don’t like it, not anymore. You don’t seem like you like fancy stuff either you’re not-” you cast an anxious glance at him, as if you realize who you’re talking too. Someone the family talks about with a hush under their breath. Both a myth and a man. But you do not have to look to far to see that Yoongi is not like his brother. “Like them.”

His fingers tap against the glass, the rhythm on it, a song in the back of his head, “Why would you say that?” He should be asking, if not out of curiosity than to make his mask better. You’ve barely been in his presence what? 3 hours? 4? And yet you’ve figured him out easily.

A little too easily.

You shrug and turn away, “call it a hunch.”

Yoongi has never been able to quite temper his gentleness, he might sneer and scowl like them, might curse like a sailor and walk like one too, but he’s never able to touch things with violence. Everything, everything since he’s stepped foot Infront of you- has been gentle. Yoongi should be more surprised that you’ve called him on his bluff, but he can’t feel anything other than impressed.

His hands move slow, dancing across the glass cases that hide things far rarer and more beautiful than you. You should know, your husband has told you it time and time again hat putting you in diamonds is like putting a tiara on a pig. Yoongi looks at you, his eyes asking you to explain.

“You don’t come home often; you don’t like it. You didn’t do-” You sniff hard, mimicking it instead of saying it, “-after dinner. And you don’t like my husband. Even though he’s your blood.”

Yoongi sucks a breath through his teeth and wonders why he feels a willingness to be honest with you.

“No, I do not.” 

Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice that your jewels are quite so ill fitting, he does not polish his words sharp. Just like at the dinner the other night. He speaks slowly and gently, the sound of rippling waves or the feeling of warm water.

You like the way he speaks.

The door jingles, Yoongi looks over your shoulder. Your hang grips his wrist, hard and cold fingers. Making him turn back out of the very shock of it. You wrap your arm around his elbow and look up at him, your expression almost coquettish. But Yoongi can tell that you’re shaking.

“You have a pack? Across the city?” Yoongi does not comment on your change of topic.

The man in the doorway taps off his umbrella on the marble floor, getting water everywhere. You notice the bulge of something under his arm, the way his eyes slide over you and Yoongi, the leather shoes. Expensive. The way he speaks to the attendant, softly- so as to not draw attention to himself.

Yoongi sees your spine straighten.

“Not across the city, up north. Just outside of…” He knows better than to make eye contact with the man, his hat pulled low.

“Would you tell me about them?” Yoongi closes his eyes just briefly. The memories of them rush over him like a tidal wave.  

The feel of Jin’s hands on his abdomen, splayed wide. The sound of Hobi’s laugher, the tuck of Jimin’s chin when he falls asleep during movie night, the listless way his hand tangles in Tae's sleeve over and over again the same sensation until it goes slack with sleep. The spiky feeling of Namjoon’s hair- shaved short in summer and the sound of Jin’s voice as he counts the grey hairs. The clack of plates at dinner time and the smell of the apartment when they’re all happy. Sugary and sweet. 

But he opens his eyes, and it’s raining outside. No- it’s not the outside that smells like rain- that is your scent. Rainy, wet. Like petrichor only a tad bit sweeter. It’s a melancholy scent, one that doesn’t quite fit your soft practiced smile.

“I’ve got 6 packmates.” Yoongi swallows past the lump in his throat.

“Two alphas and four omegas’?” You guess, walking from glass case to glass case barely pausing from one to the next. The man follows, mirroring your and Yoongi’s position on the exterior of the store. You see him through the displays of cut glass. Yoong passes a chandelier that’s polished so perfectly that he sees a hundred reflections of you and him in it dancing as they twinkle.

“No, the other way around actually.”

“So many alpha’s,” you comment. Whistling low. “They must give your omega’s a run for their money.”

Yoongi snorts and you turn, not expecting humor, not expecting the honesty that Yoongi offers. “No actually they-” Yoongi should remember who he’s talking too but it’s surprisingly hard to resist the urge to talk about them, his pack. Missing them pulses dully in his chest, a deeper wound than any knife could carve. A deeper danger than being honest to you.

You’re hardly the most important person in the family, what harm could honesty really do?

“The idea of anyone giving Jin or Jungkook a run for their money is laughable. They’re-” Yoongi should be more careful, he shouldn’t even be telling you their names but-

You look up at him, eyes brighter than they were at the dinner or at the start of today. They reflect the rainbow of the chandelier. Your scent warms, sweetens, loosing it’s damp edge.

“Disobedient?” Your finger dances across a dangle of crystal.

“No, Jin’s our pack omega, he keeps us all in line, but he also likes to laugh. He takes good care of us and Jungkook,” Yoongi hums. “Jungkook was raised by alphas, practically acts like one himself. He’s the one who gives us a run for our money, sometimes literally.”

You huff, and Yoongi sees real confusion on your face. “So he’s disobedient but you like it?” He knows what it’s like- being in the family where ‘good’ and ‘obedient’ and ‘pretty’ are practically the only thing that matter when it comes to omega and the gold standard. The fact that Jungkook is only one of those things doesn’t make sense to you.

You turn, and the light catches your face, youthful cherub cheeks, not hollow, not yet. Yoongi is reminded of how young you are. How little you understand and how the family must have twisted your mind so to parrot these ideas and yet doubt them.

Geumjae is 35, you can hardly be older than 20. Something about the math, you being married two years ago, doesn’t add up.

“No- Jungkook’s sweet- he just likes to have fun.” Yoongi pauses, then can’t resist adding. “He smells like honey.”

You look up at him, drinking in his soft smile. How is it that he’s smiling. You wonder, who are the people who have charmed this brother’s heart? The better brother. Geumjae and Yoongi look so much alike, so alike that they could be identical where it not for the scar marring your husbands face. You know Yoongi is a few years younger than your husband. He doesn’t have the crinkles by his eyes yet.

Of course you chose the wrong one. That this man, an unseen Jungkook gets what you so desperately want but are denied, safety and a gentle man. Yoongi is surely gentle; you could smell it the second you met him. like blood to a hound, gentleness beacons to a heart as needy as yours.

But perhaps there are still choices to be made.

Your nose wrinkles, but then the man in the hat steps closer, behind the two of you. And Yoongi remembers that he’s being watched and followed. Remembers to be careful with his words.

“I think his style is a little different than this. Less gold. Less diamonds. Jungkook already sparkles enough.” You don’t look behind you, pointedly. He holds out his arm for you to take. Trying to be a gentleman.

“Should we try Tiffany’s?”

You and Yoongi keep your pace slow until you’re out the door. Yoongi grabs your elbow and tugs you along at a quicker pace. You immediately struggle to keep up with due to your height and your heels. The weather has gotten worse, it’s coming down so heavily now. The kind of rain that soaks you through in just a few seconds.

“We’re being followed.” You hiss low, Yoongi doesn’t say that’s obvious. He pulls his hood up but your coat doesn’t have one and you left your umbrella back at the store. The rain comes down hard, catching in your hair like a constellation of little diamonds, little stars. You turn one way than the other, deliberating, but Yoongi is still holding your elbow, tugging you, quickly now.

“Come on, before he spots us.”

Yoongi knows this area well- knows it by the back of his hand because the family has several fronts on this block, these are his alleyways and backstreets. He can pick out the business that the family owns from the sidewalk.

Rent is hard to make. And any real type of protection is even harder to come by. Yoongi’s family provides it for a reasonable fee that quickly becomes unreasonable once minor requests like money laundering or selling drugs out back door come due. But Yoongi does not concern himself with the petty squabbles of the underclass- not in this city, not right now.

His hand fists in the sleeve of your coat and he tugs you along.

Yoongi learned the ways of the family better than Geumjae or the omega tailing the two of you. Because Yoongi was offered an unaltered view of the scope of their operations. No family lines that needed to be maintained. No secrecy separates him from the truth.

He tugs you into the restaurant that he’s brokered many a back deal in, pulling you past bowing chefs, an angry man in a puffy hat that pulls a smaller looking woman down and says, “stay quiet,” voices hushed with the kind of deference offered to gods and not men.

You knock over a pot, and it sloshes, spilling dark bubbling liquid. Narrowly managing not to get it on your coat. “Sorry.” You say, but Yoongi Is already pulling you.

“It’s no problem Mrs. Min,” says the bright-eyed sous chef, all but trembling in her shoes.

You pop out into a back alleyway, tripping over your heals and the uneven step and old cobblestones but Yoongi’s hand goes from your elbow to your waist under your coat. You breathe, and your ribs push against his fingers, he lets go of your waist but not your arm, ignoring it as he pulls you. “Come on.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop, aware of distant shouting. “I’m sorry sir but customers aren’t allowed back here.”

You sink out into the alleyway and slow your walking, only because it’s raining, and you’re quickly soaked. Yoongi watches as you catch your own eyes in a reflective pein of glass, watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear, eyes flickering over your cheeks and down.

He scoffs, and you turn to him.

“What?”

He rolls his eyes, turning away to walk down the street, quicker. “Omega’s and their preening.” It’s scornful, and it’s out of character. But Yoongi has not had the easiest week.

You turn, a sharpness on your face that Yoongi hasn’t seen so far.

“If you haven’t figured out that beauty is currency by now, then there’s nothing I can do for you.” Your gaze is so intense that Yoongi has to look away, a tightness in his chest that he cannot name. Shame, or maybe embarrassment.

That’s because you weren’t just checking to see if your makeup was undisturbed, no- you were checking to make sure the bruises on your face weren’t visible. But they are now- wiped away by the rain. They’re a conflagration of purple and blue over your cheek. Pretty like spread ink. They’re going yellow on the side. They must be a few days old. Yoongi watches the rain melt away the makeup.

Yoongi hates them the second he realizes. Hates himself a little too for calling what you were doing ‘preening’. 

His hand comes up, fingers pressing into your cheekbone, it must be tender. It must hurt to put makeup on.

“Does he beat you?” You flinch. Moving your face away from his hand. For the first time you don’t say anything. You just keep fussing, turning back to the window and untucking your hair so that it hides the left side of your face.

“Yoongi” you say softly, almost chiding. It’s the first time he’ll ever hear you say his name. But he’s going to hear you say it thousands of times more in his lifetime. Countless times until the word feels less like his name and more like a promise (If only promises weren’t dreadfully easy to break.)

You look almost sad as you regard him. Pitying. Shoe scuffing on the cobblestone as you step up to him. “Don’t you know by now? There are worse things an alpha can do to an omega than just beat them.”

Yoongi hates the way that there’s pity in your face for him. He doesn’t know why it bothers him but he’ll stay awake thinking about it for hours after. Later tonight once he’s dragged you both across the city to the beta’s residence. Once he’s solidified it in his head the two facts he learned from today.

One, that you are not a bad person.

And two, you need help.

Yoongi stands there in the downpour, looking at you. The two of you spend a few breaths like that. Looking at each other. Sizing each other up. Yoongi watches the bruises become more and more visible; the cloudy water tainted with makeup dripping from your temple to your chin.

“We’re both soaking wet.” Just speaking makes the water move from his lips, like he’s spat it. At least the mascara you’re wearing is waterproof. “We need to get out of the rain.”

There is a yellow cab on the side of the street, and he pushes you into it, you slide across the seat to let him in after you. The cabbie in the front hardly looks up until you’re settles. Yoongi watches carefully. Looking for even a fleck of recognition in his face.

He can never be too careful.

Your wet hair drips onto the leather seat, and Yoongi reminds himself to leave a hefty tip. You lean forward and give the cabbie the address for your and Geumjae’s brownstone and finds his stare similarly blank. The timer on the meter says you’ve got 30 minutes until you reach your destination. Yoongi wonders if Geumjae had instructed you to bring him home to talk.

Yoongi’s long hair tickles his forehead wet, and he slides the partition between you and the driver shut with a shlick of plastic against plastic. Your eyes dart from him to the cabbie, and he keeps his voice hushed.

Your phone slides across the seat and hits him in the thigh, when he hands it back to you it’s faintly warm in his hands. Like the flashlight has been left on in your pocket.

Yoongi doesn’t let his suspicion show. The screen stays dark.

“There. Now we’re not being followed or listened in on we can talk about what matters.”

You eye the driver warily. “There are 1,305 people in our organization, not including law enforcement on payroll, give or take a few, you can’t possibly know them all by name.”

Yoongi blinks, “I do not,” he admits after a careful moment. He glances once again at the cabbie. He makes eye contact with Yoongi before quickly glancing away. “You know an absurdly large amount of information about my family.”

“Am I not supposed too?”

Yoongi chews his words before he says them. “Careful.” You don’t reach to buckle yourself in, hands tight in your lap. Wary again, in a car with this man, in a car with someone whom you do not know, if you can trust yet.

Yoongi reaches over and does the buckle for you, hand brushing your hip. It’s the softest touch- the tenderest touch that you’ve known in weeks, months maybe. You can’t remember the last time someone touched you so gently.

Your hip burns from it. Yoongi clicks the buckle closed.

Instead of acknowledging it you ask. “Why did you help that omega the other night? The one at dinner? The server.”

“Was I not supposed too?” Yoongi raised his eyebrow, “if you haven’t figured out that kindness is currency by now then there’s nothing I can do for you.” You roll your eyes at him, at having your words thrown back at you. Yoongi sees the bravery it takes in you, the way you watch and wait for him to get violent.

Violence with words has always been easier for Yoongi so he changes the subject. “Did you leave the other night because you knew something would happen to Jongho?”

“No, I didn’t know for sure.” Yoongi reads beyond your words.

“Was it Geumjae?” 

“No, it wasn’t.”

“But you won’t tell me who?” Yoongi feels more and more like he’s bickering with a child, compared to him you probably are. You must be 10 years younger than him, maybe more?

“I have my suspicions, as I’m sure you do.” An enigmatic answer.

“There are 1,305 people in my organization, there’s enough suspicion to go around.”

“And yet, you agreed to meet me.”

“In public, we’re not in private yet.”  

He leans forward opening up the plastic partition, now dewy with condensed air. He opens it.

“Actually, I think we have to change our final destination.” When he flops back against the seat, he watches the way your mouth moves, the corners lifting up a little at the edges.

Trust or no trust, Yoongi can’t imagine that he’s making a bad decision.

~-~

Not much has changed at the Beta’s lodgings. It’s less of an apartment and more of a safehouse carved out from the city, a slice of suburbia among the concrete. It’s probably worth fucking millions because of its location- but Yoongi’s never been quite sure who owns it. It’s always belonged to the beta in charge, always. 

And now, that beta is Yoongi, so it’s his.

The small yellow cottage has been owned by the family for almost longer than the city has been a city. Shoved between two apartment buildings and a 7/11. Hidden in an alleyway that’s barely wide enough for a car; most people wouldn’t even know it was a driveway with all of the shrubbery and the high cinderblock wall. The decorative potted plants that line the driveway are cracked in places- no doubt from the late beta’s poor driving.

Yoongi makes the taxi pull all the way up, just so the two of you (and your bruises) won’t be spotted. Yoongi knows the beta’s residence is constantly watched, constantly minded, constantly protected. It doesn’t feel like protection. To Yoongi, having the eyes of the family close feels like a threat.

At night, the street has a large amount of foot traffic, perfect to disappear into if you needed it, It feels like the cottage barely exists on the same plane as the rest of the city. Set far enough back that the sounds of people and cars just seem to melt away.

It’s considered as good as hallowed ground in the gang world. No blood can be spilled there or else an instant hit will be ordered on the person who has. It’s law, people need a safe place to come and seek council. The beta’s safety needs to be preserved.

Most of the late betas belongings have been moved out already, put in storage for however long it takes for someone trusted to go through it and burn anything that might be telling. There isn’t anyone to inherit their things nor much value to them otherwise. Their beta wasn’t a fan of designer clothes or fanciful trinkets that were paid for with blood money. Anything of value and any secrets have died with her.

A small shred of crime scene tape gets pinned to the slate pathway from the water, soaked and strewn about within the dying garden. Once lovingly maintained, it has already started to show signs of neglect in the form of heaps of leaves strewn about. One of the shutters hangs off it’s hinges and Yoongi wishes someone would repaint the whole building. A darker color maybe.

The yellow always shows the mold.  

If you have ever been inside the beta’s residence, you don’t show it on your face as Yoongi leads you inside. They’ve left most of the furniture at least. Yoongi would hate to have to furnish it himself. It’s only got one bedroom, but combined kitchen and Livingroom space has a bunch of windows. Yoongi tells you to sit and is unsurprised to find the bedroom clean with fresh sheets. A whole new bed and an open linen closet full of bright fluffy towels. Someone probably knew he was coming and set the place up for him. The heat’s even been turned on.

You were right not to trust the cabbie.

There are shadows on the wall where pictures hung, stripped of almost everything in the bedroom and bathroom. All of the clothes and trinkets collected in a lifetime stripped from the place. Yoongi wonders if the late beta would be disturbed or pleased. She was always picky with her evidence.

Yoongi’s going to have to get some shampoo from the hotel when he goes back to collect his things. And then maybe pilfer or borrow a bug sweeper from one of the families to double check that there’s nothing amiss here. From the bedroom, Yoongi can just see the neon lights from the street, the glowing seven just over the trees. It’s an interesting mix of quaint old world and blinding toxic neon. It has drafts under the windows and bad heating, the green velvet couch in the living room sags from the weight of years of use.

Yoongi retrieves two of the new towels from the bathroom ripping off the tag on the way through the house. He rubs the first one over his own head, mopping up some of the water and hands the other out to you. You’ve parked yourself on that green sofa, looking out the window at the rain. Your jacket discarded nearby on the back of a chair. Water dripping slowly out of it and seeping through the cracks in the uneven floorboards, warping with age.

Yoongi doesn’t sit down, even after you tentatively take the towel from him and start to dry your hair. Taking it out of its fastenings. Your silk scarf, once colorful. Sits on the nicked coffee table. Flaccid and soaked. The colors dull.

“What did Geumjae tell you?”

Your hair makes a gentle squish noise as you dry it. “About you? Or about the situation?”

About me, did he tell you to be afraid of me? I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Yoongi quiets his tongue around the words and focuses only on the necessities. The thing that will get him out of this city and back to the pack as soon as possible. That’s his priority.

“About the secession.”

Your eyes flicker up and down Yoongi’s body.

“He told me he’d do whatever he had to become Don. That the secession is up to you but that he can’t kill you because you’re on the no kill list now. And-” Your eyelashes are sticking together because of the rain, big globs of it. Yoongi looks at it instead of your eyes, intimidated by your beauty even though he’d sort of scorned you earlier. Your eyes are too open, too vulnerable, too pretty.

“-The next beta in line is like 4 years old and fucking hates his guts. You’re by far the better option.”

Yoongi huffs, as close to a laugh as he can get these days and sits back against the couch.

The kill list is an old and informal piece of information. There are only 3 names on it as far as Yoongi knows, his name, the past Beta, and the past Don. All current and past packmates of the ruling Beta and Don get put on it, to prevent extortion and retribution. The family doesn’t have many rules, but to kill someone on the kill list is as good as suicide.

The list is handed out to everyone connected to the family at the start of every year. Every assassin, even the low-level drug smugglers. Yoongi knows for a fact that Namjoon and Jin and the rest of them are not on it yet- because he hasn’t officially become the beta and he hasn’t announced them as packmates. After he names Don this will change. Yoongi slumps in the couch, sinking into the cushions.

He thinks of bringing them here, thinks of Jin and Jungkook in black with their lips painted red like you. Thinks of gentle Joonie and anxious Hobi. He thinks of Jimin stuck in a room with so many scents making his instincts go haywire. He thinks of Tae holding a gun and cannot stomach it.

Yoongi tamps down on it, cutting to the chase. There’s no real reason to beat around the bush. “Are you going to do whatever you have to do to see your husband on the throne?”

“No.” You reply with a snap, then sigh, tired, leaning your head back against the seat. So much about you is that- tired. Yoongi wonders what about that exhausted you so and why you replied as quick as you did. “You don’t seem like the kind of person to be manipulated without finesse.”

“And would you say finesse is something you lack?”

This is feeling more and more like a job interview. Your bracelets tinkle against each other as you reach up to tuck your hair behind your ear. And your wedding ring catches the light. It’s a true monster; three carats and glittering under the light, more stunning than half the pieces you saw back in that shop. Pretty due to its simplicity but ugly due to its size.

You look too young to look so sad but too old to look so scared.

“What I lack” you choose your words carefully because you don’t know how to not be careful- just like you don’t know how to not be afraid. “Is the motivation.”

Yoongi can’t help but laugh at that. A real laugh, deep and chuckling. And he misses the way you turn away. Hiding the smile on your face is harder and harder with every moment. If you’re not careful- your smile might be used against you.

You and Yoongi. You remind yourself. You’d hate for something bad to happen to him just because you can’t keep your expressions tamed.

“You might be the only person in this whole fucking city that doesn’t want to manipulate me.” If I believe you.

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and it makes Yoongi quiet, it’s high and clear- it’s a pretty sound, the kind of sound that makes the birds pause. The kind of tone that makes intro’s good and outro’s sentimental. Yoongi cannot stop the traitorous flutter of his heart.

You avoid his question and cock your head, and Yoongi thinks you’re angry until he sees your lower lip quiver.

“You act like I have a choice, like I’m like them- this isn’t-” you gesture between the two of you. “Even important. He told me about the succession and the only thing I thought was ‘If he’s got his throne maybe he’ll finally forget about me. Manipulation isn’t anything I’d do if it wasn’t necessary, I don’t like it.”

“Where would you go? If he did forget about you?”

You turn away, looking out the window at the rain, your face leaning on your hand. “I don’t know. Probably somewhere quiet.”

Yoongi’s answering hum is that- quiet. And he lets the silence still for a moment. The inside of the cottage is warm, and the two of you are no longer shivering.

“What do you like to do anyway, plan parties? Shop? Or is fancy jewelry and polite scheming your only hobby?”

“You don’t think I’d take these off if I could?” you hold out your wrists, the bracelets jangle against each other. So they actually are shackles then. Yoongi hadn’t been sure. You swallow, looking down at them. “If I had to choose one thing though, I like to-”

Before you can say anything else. Your phone dings, A different ringtone, a loud one. Yoongi doesn’t mean to look down at it but it’s hard not too since your phone sits between the two of you on the couch.

Yoongi doesn’t mean to catch a glimpse of the text on your phone, the contact at the top is devoid of any emoji’s or hearts. He finds his blood going cold at the sight of the message he sent through.

Husband (5:54): If you don’t come out here in the next 30 seconds, I’ll slit your fucking throat and use it as a new hole to fuck.

The silk scarf you used to tie your hair up still lies wet on the dinged coffee table, so your hair stays down as you bolt to your feet. And grab your jacket, heaving open the door without even putting it on. “Sorry I have to go- I have to-”

There is someone standing at the edge of the driveway underneath the bleed of the neon sign, the purple neon light bleeds onto the wet concrete. The light behind the man turns red. Silhouetting his figure. And Yoongi doesn’t have to look twice to know who it is.

You hurry out the door without offering him much of a goodbye. And Yoongi doesn’t know what to say, even less what to do.

Geumjae waits there at the end of the driveway. And Yoongi takes him in. His pursed lips, the umbrella he holds- the same one you left in the shop, and his hawkish eyes as you hasten in his direction. The black car is non-descript, but Geumjae still shoves you into it, uncaring of your comfort or who might see him do it.

You hit your head on the metal frame. And Yoongi see’s you gasp in pain from far away, clutching your forehead.

His fists tighten at his sides. Geumjae gives him one long look and then walks around to the driver’s side. Yoongi walks out onto the patio, the slate steps, not running but half jogging, bare feet smacking against the wet slate. Re-drenched in the downpour.

But by the time he’s gotten to the end of the driveway. The car has already pulled away.

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- Tbh, I don’t think Yoongi will ever realize that he was groomed. I’m trying my best to show that his worldview has been skewed a little, I think it’s very telling that when we first see him with Jin he calls omega’s docile and then when he comes home- it’s pretty evident that he doesn’t view omega’s quite that terribly anymore.

- Omega’s that are not in the family that is, the omega’s in the family still get his derision because they uphold the same values and reinforce the very structures that subjugate them- but as the m/c says in this chapter. Beauty is the only way for any of them to gain any safety and she especially is in the position where safety is more important than freedom. I feel the need to unpack this because I think at face value you could easily think that Yoongi’s just an asshole. But he’s not- he’s just hyper critical of the systems that his family imposes.

- Yoongi and the m/c’s dialogue in this chapter is some of my favorite additions to the story that I’ve made with this edit. To me it feels like we really get to see her character before she goes quiet. Like obviously this doesn’t change what happens to her or how traumatized she is when the pack sees her, but I think I did a good job of building up her character a little.

- I know it’s stereotypical, but the scarf that the m/c has in her hair is actually one that I own. I’ve had it forever and I love it a lot. I can’t remember where I got it but!! I have pictures if people really do want to see <3

-The first ever girl I had a crush on had that ridge on her lips, the same one that I describe the m/c having in this. I remember looking over at her during class and just being hopelessly crushed, hopelessly in love. I wish I’d been brave enough to understand it. Jenny, if you ever read this, Ni hao!! 你好 and I hope you’re still making 3 pointers! I am still very bad at Chinese but thank you for letting me practice <3

- In my mind, the m/c and Yoongi Walk through the restaurant in the bear! that’s just what my brain does! Tbh, I think the ‘bright eyed sous chef’ could be Sydney!

- I do think it’s up to interpretation if the mc is manipulating Yoongi or not BUT If we’re getting into the nitty gritty of it, I think that the m/c purposefully wore non-waterproof makeup so that Yoongi would see that she has bruises. Her intent is to make herself a sympathetic character and every so subtly try to manipulate Yoongi to see Geumjae in a poor light. A subtle way for her to make sure Yoongi knows, that someone knows what he’s doing to her.

- Is the m/c’s phone recording them or is it being tracked? What do you think? Why is it warm? I personally think it’s being tracked by Geumjae- but Yoongi in the moment is unsure what’s going on. Like even he’s confused if he should trust or if he should suspect the m/c.

- (tw) When she talks about the ‘worst’ thing an alpha can do to an omega, that is rape. She’s talking about rape.

- (SPOILER) When Yoongi says “he thinks of Tae holding a gun and cannot stomach it.” Yeah, that’s a direct reference to how the story ends and the fact that Tae kills the assassin.

- The bracelets she wears are the cartier love bracelets, if that wasn’t clear! They run about 7k a pop. I do think Geumjae has used them to tie her down before. They are small enough that she can’t pull them over her knuckles and can’t take them off or remove them. They were some of the first gifts Geumjae ever got her.

[malicemismanager]

I actually had to put on a cardigan autumn has finally arrived 🥹🥹🥹

[littlestpersimmon]

Hey guys. Some of you guys would have heard by now that the philippines will face four typhoons consecutively. I'm currently in the middle of preparing, with the funds my partner gathered for me last month; only I've come across a couple of problems; firstly. That our fridge broke. We live in a wooden house, and when it rains, our walls are very damp due to my country's general humidity. I suppose it caused some short circuiting in some of the wires. I've had the fridge repaired, but it also spoiled 2-4 days worth of food. Secondly. My mom's wallet got stolen. It had around 150 usd in it, that was supposed to go to our groceries for the last leg of November. I've been unable to find work on twitter, as a dying platform. And I am somewhat late in fulfilling my October commissions.. I have not been able to make art as a hobby.. in almost 2 months. None of my social media is growing because I work 10 hours every day, and I'm too exhausted to draw afterward. I have around 3 jobs, and with dollar dramatically falling, while food prices continue to skyrocket.. I am drowning. I am the only person in our house who works. All my three family members are disabled. I pay for my sisters tuition fees, I'm pretty much her parents in all respects. Elon Musk destroyed one of the platforms where most of my clients come from. And my other work will only pay me once I deliver 200 pages of work. Humbly, again, asking for help, prayers. Anything.

There's a 15% off sale on inrprnt, please come pick up any print at all if you'd like.

My patreon is only a dollar a month. Ever since Apple chose to bill iPhone users 30% more, I've devastatingly lost almost 60 patrons.

You can send me a direct tip on ko-fi if you like and have the means. Everything goes to repairing our house, and food, and insulin.

Also have a PayPal here..

Prayers and reblogs appreciated. Thank you so much for looking out for me for almost the whole year now. I'm sorry again. I'm desperately trying to repay the favor with new art and free stories. I will do my best.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 2

construction worker!rafe who spends his days ‘lifting heavy stuff and building shit’ and driving shy!reader home, shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...

c/w: fluff, smut: slight somnophilia, dry humping, p-in-v, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.7k

so this story was supposed to be just a small drabble consisting of a few silly sentences but then i got a bit carried away..

series masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment.  

No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her. 

Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) when she gingerly opens the door, mentally preparing to face a serial killer.

However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her. 

“Oh, hi. What are you— what are you doing here?” a surprised look paints over her countenance.  

“You forgot this in my car, thought you might want it back,” he smiles, holding out a phone to her, the pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to.  

“Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features.  

“Yeah, couldn’t exactly call,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke. 

A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance; a worn-out t-shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it.

She’s not wearing anything else and he’s trying his hardest not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair.

She swallows nervously under his attention.  

Unfortunately for the both of them, he never ended up doing anything when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for an entire week after the particularly long shift she’d had.  

Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder before letting her get some much needed rest, telling himself he could be patient.

However, she’s not making it very easy for him when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her at the moment— she looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms right now and slump down on her bed, crawl under crisp sheets and feel her lungs expand against his chest.  

“Uh, sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber.  

“No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer; finding immense comfort in his assured presence.  

“Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” she clumsily offers, not wanting him to go just yet.

His brows raise in surprise because she’s being uncharacteristically bold, making his mouth twist in amusement. 

“Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and jus’ wanna go home, sorry, don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown accustomed to.  

“Nah, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold before taking a look around her cozy home; picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls and leafy plants adding greenery to the small space. It’s cute, he thinks.  

She sets a steaming mug in front of him when he takes a seat around the kitchen table. And when she sits down on a chair next to him, he can’t help but stare at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up, revealing the tops of her thighs and allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out.

He clears his throat.  

“You, uh, you have trouble sleeping a lot?” he tries to focus on something else, anything else while taking a quick sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process.  

“Yeah…sometimes it’s jus’ kinda hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. Like I try to close my eyes, but then the loud voices of customers and the clinking of plates keep replaying in my head and suddenly m’wide awake, you know?”

“Is there anything that helps?” he prods.  

“Um, I don’t know, I guess jus’ trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out. 

“Oh yeah? So, what you’re sayin’ is that you’re just usin’ me right now in order to fall asleep?” he teases, grinning when he manages to drag out another giggle from her.  

“Guess I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she blinks up at him.  

“Should I feel offended right now?” he jokingly huffs.  

“No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.” 

He thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy; a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape his tongue.

“You, uh, you into cuddling?” he asks, noticing how her eyes round out in surprise.

“Uh— I mean, probably if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond. 

“Wanna cuddle with me?” he says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent about this whole situation when she feels almost dizzy; dazed mind reeling and her vivid heart tingling in her ribcage. 

“You, um…you want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?”

“Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” his brows crease. 

“Yes, of course we are, I just—” 

“Look, all m’sayin’ is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having somethin’ else to focus on ‘n shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this when he’s simply trying to help.  

“You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees before swiftly getting up on wobbly feet—nearly falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at the sudden proximity.  

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he chuckles, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him rather amusing.  

“Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks.  

And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle— caging her in with mindless fingers toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter shut.  

“You good?” he murmurs into her hair.

“Mhm,” she blissfully hums, letting out a content exhale because he’s so warm and big— making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again.  

Soon, her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy.  

‘Sweet dreams’ is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a place where the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy.

- - - - - - - - - - -

She’s lethargic in her movements when she stirs from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in with Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his.

The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what woke her up because it’s still murky in her unlit bedroom— the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots of her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space.

Then, she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass.

There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization. He’s hard.

Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more. 

She swallows.  

What is she supposed to do? 

She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low rumble— his grip only tightening around her smaller form.  

“Rafe?” she calls out. 

No response.  

“Rafe? Wake up.”  

Still nothing. 

She can feel his heavy breathing against her neck—bigger hands pawing at her hips every now and then and trying to pull her closer, as if they’re not already effectively glued together, leaving her no space to move.  

She’s already beginning to grow sticky between her thighs when he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in some sort of a stupor.  

She can’t help but let out a faint mewl when her clit throbs, pestering for more friction since the soft fabric of her underwear is not even close to enough, more or less torturing her with the its cottony graze.

And that’s when Rafe finally stirs, the weight of his arm loosening like a tight knot unfurling, finally allowing for her lungs to greedily suck in the air of the quiet room.

“Shit— sorry, my bad,” his tone is gravelly, and she could swear some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides in response.

However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects. 

“It’s…uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries, it happens,” she rambles with heated cheeks because what the fuck is she supposed to say to that? 

“Nah, s’fully my fault, jus’ had this, uh, nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse. 

“Oh. What was it about?” she inquires with a yawn, perhaps slightly too curious for her own good.  

“You wanna know?” his brows raise. 

She manages a hum.

“Well, there was this, uh, real pretty girl…‘n she had me in her mouth ‘n was lettin’ me do whatever I wanted,” he murmurs, a heady tone overlaying his response.  

“Oh.” She tries to appear indifferent, even if there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom in the pit of her stomach.

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re silly sometimes, you know?”

He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here? 

“So, what else happened?”  

“What else? Okay, then she, uh, let me do this,” he confesses at the same time as he grabs at her hips again before pushing against her, earning a whimper when she can feel how big he is through the thin material of her underwear. 

“Rafe…what’re you doing?” she asks through a whine— his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs.

“Got no idea what you’re doin’ to me, do you?”

“I— what are you…what’re you talking about?” her brain is foggy, unable to think straight when he’s so close. However, he doesn’t respond, merely continues the retelling of his dream.

“Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper— shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock.

Somewhere along the way, her inhale gets stuck in her throat, mindlessly moving her achy cunt over him and causing him to let out a heartfelt grunt.

“Needy little thing likes this, huh?” he helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips and dragging her over his cock— filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them.  

“Rafe, can you…”  

“Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” he says while already slipping a hand in her panties; petting at her puffy clit, earning a surprised moan from her before she lifts up the hem of her shirt for a better view.  

“Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Gettin’ real fuckin’ wet from me just bein’ close to you, huh?” his thumb rubs lazy circles over her sensitive button, making her cry out as she presses down harder against his cock. 

“Shit, gonna come in my fuckin’ pants if you keep doin’ that…you wanna know what else was in m’dream?” 

She nods, frantic.  

“Pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. “And then, did this,” he mumbles out as he takes himself out, causing her eyes to round out when she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head on her clit— one, two, three times, and then he’s smearing it over her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt.

“Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean; pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out and turning her into a whimpering mess.

The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked to where they connect, fascinated. “Fuck, sweetheart, does that feel nice?” he asks, thumbing over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper and forcing a loud noise to leave her throat.

“Feels so good, Rafe, think m’gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him.  

“You gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his features while he keeps nudging his dick about halfway in and then out, never fully plunging it inside.  

“You feel so…can’t— can’t hold it,” watery droplets gather in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as her teary eyes look into larimar and she keeps rolling her hips against him, chasing after a release. 

“Go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” he encourages, and she doesn’t need to be told twice before she’s crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him. 

“There you go, fuckin’ give it to me,” he grunts, and all of a sudden, he feels his own orgasm approaching—rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he finally stuffs his cock inside her, to the hilt.

Then, he’s stilling inside her and groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim— making her feel so full.

There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing.  

She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him and burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs.  

She thinks she could die happy right now.  

“Did so good for me, shit, should do this more often, yeah?” he says with a sleepy tinge.   

And she’s completely out of it; head as empty as ever and merely managing a hum of agreement before she’s tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber.

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[lilaccmilk]

so....hi and I love your work, amazing btw

so i had this idea yesterday and well what about like a lioness! hybrid reader and a hare! hybrid bf, like I remember reading somewhere that lionesses try to mate with a male around 100 times a day and i was like shocked, but them i remember that hares basically the same so....

kinda matching energy hahaha

but yeah, everything else is up to you

thank you

“I am just a dumb bunny, but we are good at multiplying.”

content warning: hare! male hybrid x lioness!fem reader, mentions of heat/rut and mating season, uhh that’s it i think?

giggling at this ask as we’re speaking.

Alright so, the hare always thought that he would never find someone who matches has libido. I mean, sure he had other females of his kind, but they weren’t the same. That was until he met you— the most sweetest person despite being a predator. You were so kind and so pretty and your skin felt so soft. The hare couldn’t help but find you in his darkest desires. He didn’t really think you’d be able to match his libido, primarily because of the fact that he knew nothing about lioness hybrids.

The start of your relationship was cute and slow. But when the mating season hit— and god it was like a switch had been flipped in you. The hare had been keeping distance from you because he thought he’d tire you out in his own rut. But staying away from your boyfriend became too much, so here you were standing in front of his apartment door, soaked from head to toe because of the rain, 11 in the night.

He quickly got concerned, leading you into his apartment, he went to get you some towels but when he came back— he was hit with the scent of your arousal, and your eyes, god your eyes got so predatory.

You stared at him like he was prey— and he was. You went to him almost ripping his clothes off, not that he minded. Your touch felt like fire on his skin, blazing the flames of his own rut. Without wasting time, you pushed him onto the couch and asked him to take off your clothes. And he obeyed, the sweet scent of his submission hitting your nose.

You had always called him ‘bunny’ to playfully tease him, but now as you growled out “fuck bunny, so pretty f’me yeah?” the nickname would never be the same.

You slowly sank down his length, he was so huge and just filling you up in all the right places. He let out a little whimper as you clenched around him. “Should’ve- hah- should’ve done this sooner.” he mumbles out already pussy drunk. You hadn’t even started and he was already looking like he was fucked dumb. You start moving your hips in a frantic rhythm because you couldn’t think about anything but him. Your mate, your bunny.

The soft plap! plap! plap! fueling your heat on and on. You both reached your climax soon him filling you up full. But no, not enough for you, not enough for you both. You felt your boyfriend flipping you both over, his body moving on pure instinct. You were under him, pinned down.

He started drilling his cock into your pussy. Pace relentless. He wanted to mate you, mark you, breed you. All you could do was let out soft moans and whimpers. His cock was hitting that spot inside of you brutally again and again. Your back arched into him, your pussy clenching deliciously around him, you came with a shudder, and he filled you up again.

You both fell into each other’s embrace, eyes half lidded. He continued kissing your neck, scenting you, his cock still inside you. “5 minutes break?” he asked and you couldn’t help but laugh, “Needy, aren’t we?” but you couldn’t be the one to talk.

[lovebugism]

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 

That’s where he lingers. 

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

[ybklix]

hidden lovers

★ pairing: idol bf!lee know x fem!reader

✦summary: Minho and you have this little game of dating in secret, but keep a completely opposite image for the rest of your friends.

♡ genre - warnings: smut, mean and soft dom minho, established relationship, enemies to lovers briefly written; fingering, mutual masturbation, edging, oral sex (f. rec.), cunnilingus, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names.

word count: 5k

╰ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist forms

୧ ‧₊˚request by anon₊ ˚⊹♡ secretly dating minho w enemy plot yesyes<3

a/n: i hope u liked it 🍮 mwahmwah, i think lino has a puddin in the pic lmao so cute

divider by enchanthings

It was pouring rain outside, it was one of those rainy summer days when you really missed your boyfriend, you wanted to be in his arms watching a movie or spying through his cell phone whatever he was doing. But he was busy, he couldn’t visit you so often because he spent hours at the company, he arrived exhausted at his apartment which he shares with three other colleagues and friends; plus it was that season when coincidentally the rest of his seven co-workers and best friends were more glued to him since it was when they were hard at work on their new album, so being so close to them, they usually tend to be insistent and ask in detail what he does outside of work and Minho, your boyfriend, could not risk them finding out that there is something between you.

So, amidst the heavy rain, your perfect signal fell with it; Han Jisung, your brother and one of Minho’s closest friends sent you a message, asking you for help with household activities in his apartment, blackmailing you while reminding you that he was the one giving you money, since he’s rich and an extremely important pop star and claiming that it was one of those days when they didn’t go to the company and Chan took the opportunity to put the rest of them to clean their respective apartments. You honestly didn’t think much of it, going to your brother’s apartment would mean you would see Minho one way or another, despite living in different apartments, you were pretty sure you would be able to see him.

You thought it was strange that Minho didn’t tell you that he didn’t go to work today, you thought he must have been busy ordering Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin to clean their rooms like little kids since it was your boyfriend who was in charge of the place. So anyway, you decided not to tell him and see him as a surprise; you dressed up perfectly, you haven’t seen him for days except through facetime and you really missed the closeness and smell of your man nearby.

You left your apartment and headed to the building of your older brother and his other almost older brothers, Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin and sighed as you passed through the wide hallway, the famous hallway reserved for the eight of them, only two doors on each side of the hallway, the place where they lived, you sighed, because you knew that Minho was probably in his apartment.

You knocked on the door, where a very confused Chan opened it for you, wearing comfortable clothes, with his curls and his face totally free of any traces of makeup.

“Oh, hi, Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.”

His confused countenance gradually softened into a smile. He was confused as Han had authorized your entrance all the way to his door without previously letting anyone know you were coming.

“Yeah, well neither did I...”

“Come on in, we’re just cleaning up a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s just what Han calls me for, apparently.”

You walked in and even Chan couldn’t help but watch you as you walked by, smelling your perfume and getting slightly lost in your bare legs through your short dress; which you were wearing only for, who they consider, your enemy.

“Agh, my dear sister who’s going to help me do the laundry and dishes, how good you look, have you eaten yet?” said in a fake and dramatic tone your brother, greeting you with an exaggerated expression of excitement and hugging you, which he never does and was just overacting and being funny.

“Fuck you, Han” you answered him as a joke, you were really there just to see Minho and you were starting to get desperate, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss his nose exactly where he had his little freckle.

Han changed his expression to an annoyed one as soon as he pulled away from you after his brief hug, “Hey, watch your mouth, I’m older remember. Also, why are you wearing so much perfume, are you wearing makeup?”

“I can’t believe you brought your sister all the way here just to help you” Chan interjected.

“Hey, Y/N, nice to see you” interrupted Hyunjin as he came out of his room and walked around the apartment.

“Hi” you replied sweetly smiling at Hyunjin.

“She came to see me, it’s obvious” you heard Changbin suddenly say, who came out of the laundry room, approaching Han and you.

Changbin winked at you and gently grabbed your waist, flirting and teasing you, making Hyunjin laugh. But Han didn’t find it the least bit funny so he opened his big round eyes in shock, raising his eyebrows, ready to exclaim in his typical voice:

“Ya, are you out of your mind? Get your dirty hands off my sister or I’ll kill you.”

Chan laughed at Han’s reaction, who was also joking, since he fully trusted each of his friends and knew that they were just playing around, he knew that none of the men he lived with every day would touch you and Han had a strict rule of not trying anything with you, since you were the closest to them, all the time living with them, a rule which they all respected since at least four of them also had sisters and understood the seriousness of the situation... however it wasn’t quite like that, Minho was the one who dared to touch you and would fuck you every day if only you could be together all the time and, for the rest, Minho was really the last option in the list of people who would even have anything to do with you, since for them, you two are enemies and hate each other. Plus Han would never agree to you dating any of his friends, you were strictly forbidden and he reminded them of that every chance he got.

Changbin let out a guilty chuckle and walked away from you.

“Well, I was assigned to do the dishes and laundry, please help me, my room is a mess, I’ll clean that up. I’ll buy you five Chanel bags, I promise, please” spoke your brother, you rolled your eyes and walked towards the kitchen without answering him.

Hours later, the night came and you finished without a problem, you handed the freshly washed clothes to each of them, you left the boys’ kitchen spotless and went a little frustrated to your brother’s room to see what he was doing, he had finished cleaning too, tiredly you sat on his bed, each time losing hope of spontaneously seeing your boyfriend and surprising him, so you thought about going to the bathroom to send him a message, saying you were there and that if he had the rest of the night he should spend it with you, making a little drama by reproaching him for not telling you he would have the day off, supposedly, since you knew he might be cleaning.

“I’m thinking of buying another piece of furniture and putting it in...” started to tell you Han, pointing to a part of his room but you decided not to pay attention at all,

And suddenly a voice, a sound so familiar that it filled every part of your body with excitement, you heard in the distance the typical whine of your boyfriend, followed by his manly voice in a soft whine saying, “Agh, are you guys done already? I really didn’t want to clean up today, why did you guys finish so soon?”

Han opened his eyes in surprise and looked at you with a bit of fear, he also recognized perfectly well that it was Minho.

“Is that Minho?” you asked suddenly, hiding every excited particle of your body, your heart pounding as if you were a young girl about to see her crush.

“Oh no… if you want, I’ll get him out of here before he sees you” Han replied and before you even thought how to stop him he was already leaving his room.

You quickly stood up and went after him.

“Ah, Hannie, let’s go get some dinner and let’s all eat it in my apart...” spoke Minho cheerfully as he saw his friend coming out of the hallway but he didn’t finish the sentence as his world stopped as he saw you coming out behind him.

And there he was, Lee Minho, looking as handsome as ever, in comfortable clothes and a bare face, his hair looking soft and shiny black. You had to contain your joy, feeling him so far away but so close at the same time; as did Minho, who held back with all his might a smile from his lips at the sight of you, instead, his expression tightened completely, furrowing his thick eyebrows, his thin lips pursed a little, his big eyes sharpened if that was possible, looking at you contemptuously and an irremediable tension for the rest of the guys formed in the atmosphere, they all looked at each other complicitly, amused and slightly worried, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Han, moving their eyeballs quickly as they noticed you and Minho were looking at each other.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” spat Minho annoyed.

His tone and demeanor gave you goosebumps, just as it made your pussy throb, it really turned you on to see him upset, he looked so hot, you ran your eyes along his bare arms with your gaze, you wanted his veiny hands on your neck but you had to maintain your sanity and be tough, acting your best role, as Minho’s enemy.

“Minho be nice...” Chan said softly.

“With... that-her, never. Oh, and I see why you guys finished early. That’s unfair, you have a fucking maid” said Minho again in annoyance.

“Minho...” your brother replied in his sternest tone and giving him a dirty look.

“Actually, let’s all eat at Minho’s, that sounds good” you finally spoke, walking and teasing your enemy.

“You can’t come into my apartment” Minho answered you, his eyes dark with desire as he saw how pretty you looked and it made him feel so good to know you were doing it for him.

You knew that look so well, so intimidating and wetting you in seconds; while for the rest it was a look of hatred and spite.

“I’m hungry, let’s eat” Changbin added, approaching you two and gently squeezing your forearms as he saw that you seemed to have a staring contest, “Come on, maybe you’re just mad because you’re hungry.”

The story of you and Minho really was funny, you truly used to be enemies and hated each other; Minho met you when you were younger, for him, back in his trainee years, and instantly thought of you as a spoiled brat who was given absolutely everything, your voice irritated him, the way you acted, everything. You both had such similar personalities that you just couldn’t manage to match each other... until years later, the big revelation fell on Minho with the intensity of a crash, he liked you, you were so cute all of sudden and he also suddenly fantasized about beating your ass to stopping you from being so badly behaved. Your start of romance was so fiery, as you were suddenly confused by his strange behavior, flirting with you while still being rude to you and, since then, a year ago that you’ve been dating. And you decided to hide it for obvious reasons; although Minho had already told you that he had no problem claiming you as his own, that he loved to possess you and have you as his girlfriend, he loved the intensity in which you loved him.

And now acting like enemies in front of everyone and lovers in secret between just you two, became such an exciting game you couldn’t stop, you lived for the mystery and the adrenaline of never getting caught, and when the guys started joking that ‘those who hate each other end up falling in love’ —literally your situation—, Minho would be really mean to you again, but he rewarded you so fucking well that you even forgot why he apologized. Sex after fake hard fights was always the best for you.

Changbin led everyone to Minho’s apartment, everyone without truly thinking about why they followed him and the rest of the people who lived with Minho were surprised at the timely arrival of the rest of his friends and you.

“Woah, what is this? What are you guys doing here?” you watched Jeongin say in surprise as he slowly lowered the cell phone from his face.

The three of them were sitting on the couch in the living room, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin, watching you enter with astonishment reflected on their faces.

“It looked pretty serious the way they all came in” Felix added smiling, “Hello, Y/n.”

“Yongbok don’t say hello to her or I’ll kick you out of the apartment” replied Minho quickly.

“What do you guys want for dinner?” spoke Chan.

“You’re not even invited to this house, plus I’m still not done with my chores” replied Minho directly to you, serious and a bit irritated.

“What you guys haven’t done yet? Let us help you so you can finish soon” spoke Chan kindly again.

“Minho hasn’t done anything, he just kept bossing around” Seungmin exposed him with a smile and pointing at him, causing a soft chuckle among his other two roommates.

“Kim Seungmin, count your days” Minho hissed.

“A whole pile of clothes to be folded is waiting for him in his room” Seungmin joked again.

“Shut up, Seungmin!” exclaimed your boyfriend.

“Y/n should go help him, it would be fun to see them not fighting for five seconds” commented Jeongin amused with his cocky tone and raising his eyebrows.

“Never, I’d rather burn your clothes” replied Minho.

“Yes yes, put them both in punishment” exclaimed Seungmin with a huge smile on his face.

“For all the nights they had their little fights every time we went out” Changbin continued the joke.

Hyunjin and Felix laughed, Han and Chan watched you both with amusement.

“There’s not going to be any more nights together because I’m going to kill every single one of you” mumbled your boyfriend.

You watched the scene, trying to be the strongest and hiding the immense urge you had to indeed see your boyfriend's room.

“No way” Chan lifted his shoulders, “You have to fulfill your duties...”

“Okay, okay, but who said I would agree to help him?” you spoke suddenly.

“Oh, yeah, you both have to go while we order food” Changbin sentenced, waking over to you to gently push you.

“Do it” you heard Han order you.

“Just because I seriously don’t want to fold all those clothes by myself...” whispered Minho.

You looked at him surprised, and with a face of indignation you followed him. But deep down you were just waiting for all the drama to be over and you could be alone with him.

“Wow, he really accepted her help” Hyunjin commented in amazement as he watched you walk to Minho’s room.

“Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin, I’ll cut your tongue out!” shouted Minho to which Hyunjin made a quick funny grimace in response.

“Try not to kill each other in there!” yelled Changbin.

You and Minho stood for a few moments near his door, looking at each other complicit and with your breathing heavy, so eager to be near each other; you watched him through the darkness of his room, diverting your gaze from his big bright eyes to the rest of his room with huge windows overlooking the city, his room was beautiful, after all he was part of a very important group and maintained his reputation by having a luxurious place to live in... and almost at one end of his bed, a pile of clothes waiting to be folded. There were few times that you had entered Minho’s room as privacy was very limited.

You were both waiting for the boys’ attention to be diverted elsewhere and, Minho recognizing and hearing that they finally managed to get distracted, he locked the door. Minho knew them so well and recognized perfectly when their attention was diverted to something new; their loud voices ceased softly as they were heard lower with his door closed and he without wasting any time, grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body to him.

You smiled broadly, once again with every particle of you excited to finally have him near.

“I missed you so much, baby, you look so good today” he spoke to you sweetly, leaning into you and kissing you.

You couldn’t answer him, your whole body went warm as you felt his lips on yours, you both missed each other madly and wanted each other immensely, so quickly the kiss became desperate and lustful, his sharp nose rubbing against your face, your hands wrapping around his neck and stroking his hair; Minho hugged you, leaving his hands on your back and slowly leading you to his bed.

As you bumped against the edge of his bed with your legs, he slowly let his body drop, making you fall onto his bed gently, both of you breathless, lewd with the temperatures of your excited bodies, Minho wanted to make you his now and you needed your boyfriend’s affection so bad that your weak pussy was so soaked and needy for his touch. Minho moved away from you a little, only to pull up your dress and reveal that you were only wearing your panties underneath it, you noticed his disapproving look, still he said sweetly:

“Settle in, princess, make yourself comfortable, so I can touch you better.”

You stirred a little, getting comfortable with his pillows on your back and Minho kissed you again, positioning his body over yours, sticking to you to the point of feeling his swollen hard erection rubbing against your sensitive center, he was kissing you so passionately, getting even for all the nights he had to spend it alone, when he had you as his girlfriend and he was partly able to come and see you, you taking care of him so well. You moaned softly as you felt his cock grinding into your pussy and, Minho being himself, he began to gently ram into you, rubbing and squeezing his member into your needy area, rubbing against your clit, causing you to lubricate yourself more and every muscle in your pussy to throb hungrily for your boyfriend’s cock.

Your groans were held between his lips, but Minho was fucking you slowly and torturously, moving his nimble hips against your pussy, leaving you so wet.

You both caught your breath, Minho watched your face slightly illuminated by the night’s exterior reflected in the window. You gasped, still watching him lovingly, placing your hands on his cheeks.

“I missed you too, Minho.”

“I know, sweetheart, sorry I was busy” gasped Minho breathlessly, enjoying his cock being compressed against the friction of the fabric of your panties on your pussy.

He moved his hand down to your pussy finally, pushing the fabric of your panties aside, reaching down to your entrance and smiling smugly as he noticed how incredibly wet you were. Minho bit his lip and inserted two fingers deep into you, making you moan and the sound of his fingers immersing between your lubed cunt.

“I want to fuck you so bad, princess, c'mon, ask for it, kitten. I loove to hear you beg, you know that, don’t you?”

“Ahh, mmm, M-minho, p-please” you sighed excitedly, his fingers were tickling a sweet spot in you.

You wiggled your ass gently, aroused to have your boyfriend’s fingers working on your sensitive vagina and exploring your insides, as you reached for the hem of his shirt, gently lifting his simple white t-shirt, stroking his abs; Minho smirked again smugly and abruptly slid his fingers out of you.

“You want to touch me too, don’t you, kitten?”

Minho drew a half smile on his face to which you only nodded in a trance, completely lost in the incredibly hot and sexy atmosphere created between you and your boyfriend. He hurried, taking off his shirt and quickly pulling down his shorts and boxers, exposing his very well erect cock, you could appreciate how needy he was too, detonating his veins and his pink tip covered by shiny white precum. You almost sighed, wanting to have fun in so many ways with your boyfriend’s cock, so almost reflexively you directed your hands towards his member, stroking it to feel its stiffness, causing sweet gasps to escape from Minho’s lips, you looked at him, in his face captured pure pleasure, so you wanted to get up, change positions and suck his cock, but he stopped you instantly, also almost reflexively.

“Ah, ah” spoke your boyfriend in disapproval, pushing you off your shoulder, “Be a good girl and do whatever I say and want, okay?”

Minho darkened his gaze more and said it in a tone so intense and demanding but being gentle with you that it made your body tremble in excitement, you bit your lip and nodded.

“Now, stroke my cock and cum in my fingers like a good princess” he spoke again, his dirty words made you throb again, “But... let me see a little bit your pretty body...” Minho licked his lips and abruptly sought a way to pull the straps of your dress to expose your chest, “You always look so good, baby” Minho let his gaze linger on your bare breasts and then came closer and kissed you again.

You were so distracted, blinded by the incredible pleasure built up in your body, busy with your mouths joined, your hands in stroking up and down his cock and, as soon as you felt again the tickle of his fingers touching your pussy, your hairs stood on end; Minho without stopping kissing you, inserted in your entrance three of his fingers, making you gasp at the sensation of your entrance stretching. He moved his kisses down, down your neck, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin, until his mouth reached your breasts, licking them, sucking them and biting your nipple, while his hand on your pussy fucked you and his thumb caressed your clit, getting his hand and the thin fabric of your panties you were still wearing wetter and wetter.

“We need to discuss later why you only came in that tiny dress, in panties and no bra, to an apartment full of men, you’re such a very bad kitty, you need a little punishment, but you feel so good right now, I wanna make you cum” Minho said, exasperated and excited in your ear.

He was so aroused too, desperate for an orgasm as he felt your hands skilfully but a little clumsily touching all over his length, stroking his glans, his testicles, feeling every inch of him, which dick you were internally screaming for by wanting such a member to be in you right now, but you couldn’t deny it, you loved the way your boyfriend liked to play and entertain your pussy, ramming it with his fingers and crushing and stroking your needy, throbbing clit. Minho gasped loudly, so close to his orgasm whose he took the decision of delaying it himself, he wanted every drop of his cum inside you, so runny and thick drops of his precum fell on your bare abdomen; his cock was so swollen and throbbing and you felt it in your hands that, in a whimper you practically begged him:

“M-minho please fuck me, I need you.”

Minho smiled.

“Then cum to your first orgasm in my hand, sweetie, you can do it.”

He, being pushed to the limit by your caresses on his cock, sped up his movements in your cunt, desperately fitting his fingers deep inside you, enjoying your walls in his digits, the softness of your throbbing clit on his fingertip. You whimpered loudly, staring into his eyes, arched your back, so ready for your orgasm, every muscle in you squeezed with intensity.

“Are you about to cum, kitten? Do it now, come on.”

“Oh, ffuck” you squealed with a shaky voice, catching one last glimpse of Minho’s handsome face with a smug little smile, before your vision blurred and you rolled your eyes slightly back.

Your legs tensed, you squeezed his cock slightly tighter, only to release yourself in orgasm, squirting into his hand, just as he desired.

“Good girl” Minho commented smiling.

He withdrew his fingers and in one swift movement, slipped your panties off and without warning of anything, brought his face up to your pussy, licking your sweet liquid sliding down your hole. You moaned at the sensation of his thick hot tongue, of his lips sticking to your pussy to slurp hard from your entrance to your labia, feeling his high bridge nose rubbing against your core, Minho left his hands on your thighs and began to eat your pussy, raising his piercing gaze, watching with joy your body struggle with your heavy breathing.

This time you enjoyed every movement of his mouth on your pussy, his kisses, his soft bites, the intense sucking and licking; you were in paradise, his pace was hot and slow, little by little speeding up the way he ate your pussy, Minho was enjoying it too, getting harder on his dick, causing a little pain to his erect cock hanging in the air, in need of attention, screaming to cum, but the slight pain was turning him on more, he loved pushing himself to the limit, making you enjoy only you as you deserve it, besides he had this idea or theory, that he didn’t deserve to cum as he wasn’t being the best boyfriend these last days, he missed you and felt guilty for not being able to come to see you, and that you had to be the one who was looking for him.

Minho again sensed your orgasm so close, your gasps rose, honestly the noise didn’t bother him, the walls were thick and his friends were being ten times louder in the living room of the apartment. So he suddenly stopped having his mouth on your pussy, roughly wiped his face with his dry hand and got closer to your face.

“Don’t cum yet, princess, I need to fuck you now” he whispered, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek.

You saw him in confusion, you couldn’t even groan because you instantly realized that you were finally going to have his cock inside you.

Minho repositioned himself again, took his member and began to tease your wet and needy entrance, stroking his glans into it, sliding it in so gently and just enough to get your hole dilated, but he would pull it out again. You whimpered with excitement and desperation as you perfectly recognized the game your boyfriend was playing.

“You want it don’t you?” he said amused with his typical smug smile as he saw your needy body and countenance, your pussy made a beautiful mess, your length so shiny from your wetness and his licking, your entrance resenting his tip inside you, “So needy for my cock.”

You whimpered, his broad tip slipped out of you and this time he grind your labia with his erection, rubbing himself on them.

“Y-yes, Minho, please, please, please.”

“Only because I’m the best boyfriend” he replied haughtily.

Minho slowly slid his cock inside you, you gasped, he was big and wide, squeezing your walls hard and stretching your entrance. He sighed, almost feeling a relief as he felt his cock around your warm core, he pulled his body closer to yours, wanting to feel your body touching his; he was so deep inside you that he almost took your breath away, still, he began to thrust you slowly, never leaving his depth and intensity, moving his hips to take you to the limit, caressing your cervix, and his balls rubbing against your exposed pussy. You tightened your legs and encircled his body, while your hands rested on his strong back, you both began to pant, his slow deep thrusts heating your lower abdomen, torturing you but sending you to heaven itself at the same time. Minho kept a pace that only he knew how made you go crazy, slow, then he accelerated fast, pounding you hard. You dug your nails into his back, you were so close to your orgasm; Minho sped up the movements of his cock in you, but as he felt your walls squeezing his member hard, he couldn’t take it, he gasped loudly in your ear and ejaculated, milking him dry every drop of his cum in an intense orgasm. You felt his cum instantly, your legs also squeezed his body tighter and you whimpered loudly, cumming again and covering your boyfriend’s cock in your so intense orgasm.

Minho left his head on your neck for a few seconds, then distanced himself and watched your pussy image after the action.

“So sweet and all mine” Minho said, looking down at his cock sliding out of your core, dripping the glorious orgasm of both of you in a glistening liquid; he moved closer to you again, to give you a sweet kiss, your mouth was dry, from moaning and breathing by it, but quickly Minho’s soft lips ceased any sensation, “I love you” he whispered into your lips, bringing your foreheads together.

You smiled, about to answer him something cheesy, but Minho’s doorknob turning sharply and banging on his door alerted you a little.

“Dinner’s ready, why is the door locked?” you heard Seungmin’s voice shout from the other side.

“Linoo” you now heard Changbin’s voice shout, “Are you okay?! He must be dead already.”

Minho sighed in frustration, “These idiots...” he muttered, catching his breath near your face.

—————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

[boneblushed]

Ignorance by infatuation

synopsis A detective behaves lewdly with you. Aaron Hotchner gets uncharacteristically jealous.

wc 1.7k

a/n omg my first Hotch fic ever hehe 🤭 feedback and love always appreciated, still trying to find my Crim Minds voice!

It’s 8 o’clock in the morning, the air sultry and verdant, rain soaked leaves underfoot. 

Aaron Hotchner frowns. Petrichor and dew mean evidence awash. He pauses to squint up at the sky, muddy grey with isolated streaks of yellow dawn.

You’re acutely aware of Spencer’s eyes on you as you walk past Hotch, and give yourself a mild headache by focussing too hard on the commotion ahead. The rest of the team don’t seem to notice the tension between you and SSA Hotchner. Or perhaps they do, and the pair of you are just too stubborn to admit it.

It’s been lurking under the surface for a while now, this perplexing pull between you. Lingering glances, raised eyebrows, irises spooled with tendrils of static. A hand pressed against your back every time he scoots behind you, like an excuse. He doesn’t do that with Emily. None of the other agents. A frown that tends to yield when your gaze catches his.

Or hardens when someone acts a little lewder than is appropriate.

Like the other day, for example, when he’d overheard you on the phone with some deadbeat cop in the Dallas area. (He’s probably being unfair. He probably isn’t even a deadbeat. It’s just that anyone that flirts with the idea of your favour is going to be unworthy in comparison, even Agent Hotchner.)

The phone had rung in the middle of your exchange, and you’d answered it immediately, mouthing apologies in its place. Aaron Hotchner remembers the shine of gloss on your lips, the ways your fingers clasped the phone to your ear, gentle but firm. Remnants of peach coloured polish on your nails.

“Yes, this is she,” you’d answered, mouthing another apology to him. “How can I help you?”

You’d come into his office a few minutes prior to discuss something media strategy; Hotch didn’t have a mind for it, he much preferred giving you all the reins. He recognised how strange this was for a control freak as prolific as him. You were different though, he’d attest. It was a sentiment as dangerous, as non-platonic, as the feelings making home in his ribcage.

“Right,” you’d said, pulling your spiral-bound notebook out of your pocket. You’d wedged your phone between your ear and shoulder, slipping your pen out of your breast pocket and clicking it against it. Hotch felt unseasonably hot at such attention to your chest. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, trying to catch your gaze.

“Ah, I see, yes that does sound like our area of expertise,” you’d continued, and then a pause, an awkward, unwieldy laugh. Still beautiful. “No, yes, our is correct — I am in fact part of the team.” Another pause; this time, you’d rolled your eyes when your laugh spooled out of your pretty mouth. He didn’t recognise it. “I don’t know about that. Should we get back to the case at hand? Great.”

Hotchner’s eyebrows had lowered then, furrowing into an expression of concern, flailing interest. Not jealousy. He was pretty certain he knew all your laughs, the cadence of them, the syrupy timbre. This one was new. You sounded uncomfortable, as though something said over the phone had abraded you somehow. As his eyebrows had, his heart had sunk into his stomach. He remembers the strain of his forearm muscles against his clenched knuckles.

“Sure. Yes. As soon as I have all the details I’ll be able to distribute them. Great, yes, we’ll see you soon, I’m sure. Thank you. Goodbye.”

And that had been that. Hotch hadn’t had the stomach to ask after the details, especially not when you’d seemed so eager to put it behind you.

After ending the call, you’d shaken your head and proclaimed, “Don’t ask,” launching back into your spiel about media strategy like it hadn’t happened. Hotch wasn’t in the business of disagreeing with you; pressing things. Saying no. It wasn’t lost on him that he used the word liberally with everyone else he knew.

Back at the scene, Hotch stays a few steps behind the team. He knows that Spencer’s assessing eyes will see right through his faux contemplation; Hotchner knows, from the many frowns Spencer’s eidetic memory has learned, that the expression on his face will be recognised as distraction.

He needs to focus. He needs you near. He needs to keep his eye on the ball. He needs deadbeat detective far away from here.

As you and the BAU team near the crime scene, a rugged looking cop pulls away from his colleagues. He has eyes like treacle tart and a grin that borders on a smirk. A toothpick hangs from his mouth like something out of a Western.

“Detective Landon?” You say, extending a hand in acknowledgement. “Hello, we spoke on the phone yesterday morning.”

Detective Landon spits the toothpick out of his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he does so. But it isn’t the depth of his gaze that drops yours. You can feel someone else’s eyes searing holes through your skull.

“Well I’ll be,” he drawls, taking your hand and pressing it to his mouth. “Your voice doesn’t do you justice, darling.”

You resist the urge to make a face. It’s awful, unfortunate, but you’re far too used to this. Behind you, Derek raises his eyebrows, sharing an amused look with Emily beside him. Rossi looks exasperated. Spencer’s expression remains unchanged, though he does steal a glance at Hotchner. You smile, the way you always do, refusing to be thrown off by his candour.

“That’s a shame,” you reply breezily, turning to introduce your team. “Detective, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid, and —”

“I’m the unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner,” Hotch interrupts, a menacing gravel to his timbre. He doesn’t shake the hand Detective Landon extends to him. The detective draws it back with a gauche bark of laughter, turning his attention to the rest of the BAU.

“My my,” he says, his drawl returning as his eyes meet Emily’s. “What do I gotta do to get in on this team of yours?”

“A formal education would be helpful,” Spencer supplies, squinting at him through his glasses.

Detective Landon turns to him then, raising his eyebrows. “Doctor Reid, was it?”

“It is, but no need to aim that high, buddy,” Morgan says then, stepping forward and patting him on the shoulder. Landon winces. “Now. You going to talk us through what you guys got so far or what?”

“Damn, y’all are a feisty bunch, huh?” He replies, pulling another toothpick out of his breast-pocket. He sends you a wink that makes Hotch’s insides turn, adding, “Don’t mind it on you, sweetheart, but maybe the rest of the BAU ‘oughta play nice.”

Aaron Hotchner would normally agree with his sentiment. He’s been a long time advocate of working alongside the local police in investigations; he recognises that collaboration is far more productive than condescension.

Unfortunately for him, this isn’t quite a normal situation.

Things to do with you and other men rarely are. An ugly green emotion eases his heart right into his throat.

“Or maybe,” Hotchner says crisply, his steely gaze pinning Landon to the spot, “I should have a chat with your Captain and take you off this case.”

Landon balks. “Sir —”

“You’re dismissed,” Hotchner interrupts, not wanting to hear it. He’s unaware of the amused look Emily and Morgan share behind him.

“You…” Landon trails off exasperatedly, shaking his head, “…you can’t dismiss me. This is my case.”

“Actually, it’s the BAU’s case now.” He turns to you expectantly. You think you catch his gaze soften as it falls over your face in paces. Trick of the light, you suppose. “Right?”

“Sure,” you say weakly.

“Right then. Rossi?” Hotch says then, turning to David Rossi autocratically. “Why don’t you and the team go ahead and assess the scene while I head to base and sort out a reassignment.”

“Not you, Reid,” he adds, keeping Spencer in place. “You can come to the station with me, get our replacement up to speed. Sound good?”

Morgan’s trying hard to hide his knowing grin, one side of his mouth upturned with mirth. Emily isn’t bothering to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, her pretty features lit up with amusement. Detective Landon looks mortified. Your cheeks feel on fire.

“Alright,” Rossi says after pause, glancing between you and Hotchner. He’s been in the FBI for long enough now that he’s learnt to pick his battles.

He turns around and begins walking toward the crime scene, the three of you trailing behind him with less purposeful strides.

“Huh,” Derek says, faux-thoughtful. You’re wedged between him and Emily, much to your chagrin. “Wonder what that was about. Any ideas, SSA Prentiss?”

“Well, SSA Morgan,” Emily replies, her smile audible. “I’m afraid that our dear old unit chief has a bit of a soft spot.”

“A soft spot?” Derek echoes, letting out a dramatic gasp. “That’s dangerous in our line of work, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say,” Emily responds sagely.

“Oh shut up, you two,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t just about me. He made a pass on Emily too.”

Emily snorts, shaking her head exasperatedly. “Hey Rossi, you got a name for this phenomenon?”

“Oh yeah,” Rossi replies without hesitation, his gaze trained ahead of him. “Ignorance by infatuation.”

Out of earshot, Spencer and Hotchner are having a similarly painful conversation.

“Strange,” Spencer decides, breaking the silence with his candour.

Aaron knows what he’s insinuating. He resists the urge to turn around and steal another glance at your pretty silhouette. “He was behaving inappropriately. There’s nothing strange about it, Spencer. I was protecting my team.”

“The whole team?”

“Yes.”

“Including me?”

“Yes.”

“But I liked him.”

Hotchner sends him an incredulous look. “And what exactly was there to like?”

“He was entertaining, I think,” Spencer replies casually, shrugging. “In a cop way, you know? Plus, I love listening to Y/N reject men. It’s fascinating.”

Hotchner swallows. “Fascinating?”

“She always does it in this way where they don’t even realise what exactly’s happening,” Spencer explains matter-of-factly. He turns to Aaron Hotchner then. “Don’t worry, though, she’d never do that to you.”

Hotchner’s traitorous heart leaps, his mouth pulling into a paradoxical frown. “Spencer,” he warns.

“Just saying,” Spencer replies, raising his arms in surrender.

“Well,” Hotch says grumpily, “don’t.”

“Alright. Noted.”

[kityana]

there's an interesting moment in "sinsmas" that i think far too many people misunderstood.

it's this one.

Stolas is a sucker for romantic fantasies.

we know this from pretty early on. he referred to blitzo in fantastic romantic terms like "my knight in shining armor".

he crossed blitzo's boundaries again and again because he thought their relationship was more intimate than it actually was, and he was sure blitzo was on the same page.

and he's constantly shown consuming romantic media- romance novels, telenovelas and rom-coms.

and honestly? i was constantly surprised by how much the narrative didn't punish him for it. not to say he didn't experience heartbreak. not to say some illusions weren't shattered. but at no point was the narrative ever saying stolas was wrong for having those dreams.

no, not even in sinsmas. because you know what happens five minutes after stolas gets angry at himself for doing it all for a fantasy?

this.

blitzo, slaying a literal dragon with a literal sword to save stolas. it's a scene straight out of a fairytale. and just because subtlety is for losers they even call it out.

the narrative literally tells stolas, your fantasies weren't foolish. you were right to believe in them. they came true.

it's a reoccurring theme in a lot of hellaverse characters. because you know who else is a dreamer hanging on to impossibly grand fantasies?

this guy.

sure, they aren't romantic fantasies, but blitzo's business aspirations are not all that different in the level of grandness or delusion. the theme of blitzo aggrandizing himself as a boss and the success of his business have been present since the pilot. they've been hammered home several times, with him, much like stolas, steadfastly ignoring any bit of reality that doesn't settle with his fantasy.

will blitzo ever get to be the big boss of a circus business with clowns and horses? probably not. does blitzo make plenty of mistakes about the way he runs his business? of course, so many. does he have ridiculous notions about what being a boss means that he needs to unlearn? yes, definitely!

but despite everything, he pushes through. and slowly but surely, his business becomes more successful as time goes on.

charlie from "hazbin hotel" is actually another good example of that. she also has a ridiculous dream that no one believes in. she also has ridiculous notions inspired by that dream. and the narrative also rewards her for hanging on to it when no one else would believe in it but her.

the point that seems to repeat in those stories is that those fantasies are important. that the act of believing in them is important. it can inspire you. it can help you push through when the odds are stacked against you. it can provide you with the drive you need to achieve your goals.

if stolas hadn't clung on to his ridiculous romantic fantasies, he wouldn't have believed in what he and blitzo could (and did) eventually become. he wouldn't have persistently tried to reach blitzo for as long as he did, even after he realized blitzo views their relationship so differently from him. he wouldn't have jumped so readily at the chance of what they could be, and found the courage to break free from his miserable, abusive marriage. he wouldn't have let blitzo become his light, and he wouldn't have become blitzo's heart in turn.

and it's not that stolas' is completely blind to reality. he doesn't literally wants to live in a rom-com. it's actually spelled out for us in "apology tour".

stolas doesn't want to actually be chased in the rain every day, he just wants someone to show this level of care toward him, because no one ever has.

and he finally gets it. and i'm sorry to break this to you, if you're one of the people who seem to be chomping at the bits for the narrative to slap the dreams out of stolas until he gets over them, but he wouldn't have gotten all of this without his fantasies.

[fireinmoonshot]

unpredictable (like the weather) | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (mentions of slight Scott x Fem!Reader) Summary: When you meet Tyler Owens, you have no intention of getting to know him – you know what kind of reputation he has in town. Tyler, on the other hand, has only one plan: win you over in any way he possibly can. Warnings: Alcohol, heavy drinking/getting drunk (not the reader), mentions of being sick Word Count: 7k A/N: So, someone commented on my last longer fic, Death Wish Love, saying that Tyler reminds them of the movie The Choice (which I love), so I rewatched it the other day and this is what ended up coming out of that inspiration! I wrote it pretty much all in one day (which is kinda insane for me), but now that Twisters is out online and I rewatched it twice in two days, the desire to write for Tyler is stronger than ever. This one is a longer one, so settle in and enjoy! 💗

If someone was to ask Tyler Owens about the first time he met you, he’d say that things didn’t quite go to plan. Not that there was a plan at all, really, considering the fact that he didn’t know who was going to be on the other side of the door when he heard a knock. All he knew when he opened it was that the woman standing on the other side, holding a stack of several towels in her arms, was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

“Oh, damn, let me take those,” Tyler said, reaching out to take the towels from you. “I told the owners we’d be happy to come grab them ourselves. You didn’t have to bring them all the way up here, but it’s well appreciated.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “The owners are my parents, and there’s nothing they love more than sending their daughter to work…” You really looked at him, then. Tall, blonde… and soaked from head to toe in water. The man was literally dripping, a puddle having formed on the tiled floor at his feet. “Did one of your pipes break or something? Do you need a repairman?”

Tyler looked down at himself and laughed. “No, we uh– we were out chasin’ and we got caught in the middle of a rain storm when we jumped out of the truck to grab some footage.” He jabbed a finger over his shoulder and you spotted another man further in the room, wringing out a bright yellow t-shirt in the sink. “Weather can be pretty unpredictable.”

“Oh, you’re storm chasers?” You raised your eyebrows, seemingly intrigued. “We get a lot of those here at the motel.”

Tyler couldn’t help the grin that sprung to his face. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he hummed. “None quite like us, though.” He watched as your lips quirked up into a small smile. “So, your parents own the place? Does that mean I’ll be seeing you around more often?” 

“Maybe. If you need more towels.”

Tyler laughed and you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling from your lips as well. He was just about to ask you for your name when Boone came up to him, grabbed a towel and said “Quit flirting and start dryin’ yourself off. You’re makin’ a mess of the place in front of the owners daughter, Ty.” 

The smile dropped from your face almost instantly and for a moment, you just looked at him without saying a word. Tyler had just started to wonder if he or Boone had said something wrong when you spoke again. 

“Are you Tyler Owens?”

Boone let out a loud whoop. “Told ya we’re gettin’ famous on Youtube, Ty! 200,000 subscribers, baby!”

“You’ve heard of me,” Tyler replied, a little cockily, ignoring Boone behind him. He was suddenly even more curious about you. You must have come across their Youtube channel – maybe you were even subscribed. He could forgive you for not recognising him at first sight. That simple fact somehow made you even more attractive to him. Maybe you were more interested in their storm chasing videos than in him… but he could change that.

“Oh, honey, that’s not a good thing.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve been warned about you. By the girls at the bar in town. Ringing any bells?” You crossed your arms over your chest and suddenly Tyler was intimidated. Tyler was the type of guy who never got intimidated.

He hated that it wasn’t ringing any bells in his head. He’d gone to the local bar a fair few times over his years of storm chasing around the area. He was a flirt – that much was clear to anyone that spoke to him. But he was a gentleman as well. His mother had raised him to be.

“Please don’t take offence to this, darlin’, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tyler attempted, though he had a feeling you’d already made up your mind about him. 

You smiled at him, then, and Tyler knew it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was more of a how the hell don’t you know what I’m talking about smile. If that was a thing.

“Tyler Owens, the storm chasing hunk who flirts with everyone but the second things look like they might get serious, he hurries off with a tornado to chase,” you explained. “That you?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a “Hang on– no– okay, that’s not–”

Much to his dismay, you were clearly done with the conversation. “If the towels are all you need, I’ve gotta get back to work. You’re welcome to ring the office if you need anything else. Just dial 7 on the phone on the desk.”

With that, Tyler watched as you turned on your heel and walked away. He laughed to himself in disbelief at what had just happened, leaning up against the doorframe until you disappeared from view.  

“Hey, storm chasing hunk suits you, man,” Boone called from where he was towel drying his hair in the mirror. 

“Not sure if that’s the kinda reputation I’m after, Boone.” 

Tyler had learnt that day that you could also be just as unpredictable as the weather. 

~~

After your first encounter with Tyler Owens, you had been glad not to see him for a month. It’d been a relatively calm weather month, with a few storms here and there but none really amounting to anything. It was good in some ways, but not in others. Less storms meant less storm chasers staying at the motel, which meant less money. 

You’d almost found yourself wishing for more storms.

At least until you saw Tyler’s familiar red truck pulling into the parking lot on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

That day, your parents had left you in charge while they headed out to Oklahoma City to stock up on a bunch of supplies that the motel was running low on, and how typical of that to be the day Tyler Owens and the Tornado Wranglers returned after their month long absence.

You watched as Tyler walked towards the office, clearly not bothered by the drizzle of rain. It didn’t surprise you – given the fact that he’d been soaked from head to toe when you first met him and was more interested in flirting with you rather than drying off. That had told you everything you needed to know about him.

When he pulled open the door and met your eyes, he flashed you a grin. “Your favourite storm chasing hunk returns,” Tyler greeted, his tone joking. “Long time no see, hey?”

“If only it’d been longer,” you give him a small smile of your own. “And favourite is a bit of a stretch. I met you once and you think you had that much of an impression on me? Have we got some storms coming our way, then?” You attempt to change the topic.

“What if I said I was just here to see you?”

You raised your eyebrows as you looked up at him. “I’d say you’re an asshole for getting my hopes up that we might end up booked out with storm chasers for the next couple of days.”

Tyler scrunched up his nose a little. He looked cute. Even though you’d been warned to steer clear of him, you had to admit he was a good looking man. You shook the thought from your mind.

“Been slow out this way this month?” He asked.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day then. You got five rooms for us? Just for the one night for now. Gotta see what tomorrow brings,” Tyler said. 

You knew that there were five rooms for them – there were only three other guests staying in the motel at the moment and you had forty rooms, so it was an easy job to book five for Tyler and his team.

“Five rooms, huh? Not sharing anymore?”

The last time they’d stayed, you remembered that they’d only booked three rooms. The dark haired man with the moustache had been in Tyler’s room when you’d met him. 

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, our Youtube has kinda blown up a bit over the past month,” he chuckled. “We can afford separate rooms for the first time ever so we’re making the most of it.”

You made a mental note to look their Youtube channel up later. Even if Tyler wasn’t on your radar, all of his friends had seemed nice enough last time you met them, and they must have been fairly talented at what they did to have amassed such a following online.  

“Okay, so your rooms are from 201 to 205, just head up the stairs to the second level and you’ll see the numbers on the doors,” you said, grabbing the five sets of keys to the rooms and handing them to him.

He took the keys, slinging the key rings on his fingers to make them a little easier to carry. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, then?” Tyler asked, taking a step back from the counter.

You smiled at him. “Not if I can help it.”

~~

The Tornado Wranglers had stayed at your motel a few more times since the second time Tyler met you, and every time, you had reacted to him the same way. You tolerated him. No matter how much Tyler tried to win you over, flirt with you, get you to show any interest in him, it never worked. 

Tyler was nursing his sorrows with a beer, the rest of the Wranglers and a few other storm chasing groups in the parking lot of your motel when he saw you. You were tugging on a coat and heading out of the office, a set of car keys in your hands.

He’d known that you didn’t live at the motel like your parents did and had seen you arriving at the motel early in the mornings when he’d been up early during their stays in the past, but he’d never seen you when you left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Tyler said to no one in particular, putting his beer down and standing up, jogging over to where you were walking towards your car. “You heading out?”

You turned, meeting his eyes, and let out a sigh at the sight of him. “Going home, actually.”

“Why don’t you stay?” Tyler asked, nodding back to where his group was. “Have a couple of drinks with us. We don’t bite, really. You might enjoy yourself.” He was being truthful in his words. He’d decided to try a new method. No flirting, just honesty. Just trying to show you that he was interested in you without being too over the top.

For a moment, Tyler thought you might actually say yes.

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “But you guys enjoy your night, and try not to be too loud. Remember that my parents live here and they don’t wanna deal with noise complaints.”

Tyler laughed. “When have we ever been the cause of a noise complaint, darlin’?”

You laughed, too, and Tyler thought it was the most beautiful sound on earth.

“Okay, none that I’m aware of but there’s a first time for everything.”

“Exactly,” Tyler grinned. “If you’re not gonna come have some drinks with us, then what do you say to coming on a chase with us? First time for everything. Promise I won’t drive you into the middle of a tornado on your first chase.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So, you think I’m gonna say yes to a tornado chase when I won’t say yes to drinks? Tyler Owens, you are ridiculous,” you let out a breathy laugh. “And who says I haven’t chased before?”

With that, you were quick to unlock and get into your car, ending the conversation. Tyler stepped out of the way as you reversed and drove out of the motel. He sighed to himself as he walked back to the group, a small smile on his face. Had you chased before? He wanted to know everything about it, about you. Who had you chased with? When? He figured they were questions he’d never get the answers to. 

“Oh, you got it bad, Ty,” Boone said as he got back to his seat. 

“Yeah,” Tyler said, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I do.”

~~

The next few times Tyler stayed at the motel, he didn’t see you. Your parents had insisted that you were all right when he’d asked, just told him that you’d ‘gotten busy all of a sudden’, and Tyler wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

It was the fourth time they’d stayed at the motel in the past month when he saw you again, and it was only when he and the other Wranglers made their way to the local bar for some drinks after a long day of failed chasing. The very bar you’d mentioned to him that he had a reputation in. 

He almost walked straight back out the door when he saw you, but Boone pulled him right back in, insisting that this was the night to show you that he was nothing like his reputation anymore. If he could win you over, tonight would be the night, Boone said. 

Boone had never been further from the truth.

It wasn’t long after they’d arrived that Tyler spotted a few members of the relatively new Storm Par team wandering into the bar, dressed in their uniforms like they were attending a meeting, not going out for drinks. He scoffed – until he saw the tall browned haired man , Scott, he thought his name was, wandering over to you, holding… holy hell, was he bringing you roses?

By the smile on your face, they were definitely for you.

Oh, Tyler felt like he could melt right into the floor. So this was why you’d never paid him any attention? This was why you’d been missing from the motel? Your parents telling him you were busy was because you were with Scott? He suddenly remembered you saying you’d been chasing before. It had to have been with Scott. 

Storm Par had begun to get in their way a lot with their chasing, and now they were getting in his way again, but with you instead. 

He watched as you took the roses from Scott’s hands and sniffed them, a smile blooming beautifully on your face as Scott took a seat beside you, resting his hand on your thigh. 

Boone, sitting beside him, muttered an “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Lily said from the other side of Boone. “You all right over there, Ty?” 

He hadn’t realised he’d paused with his beer half way to his mouth. He cleared his throat and spun around in his chair, moving to face the bar again. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught staring at you in this bar of all places. 

“I’m fine,” Tyler lied through his teeth. “She was never interested in me anyway, and now I have a reason not to be interested in her anymore.” Or a reason to be incredibly jealous and have a few too many drinks… which is exactly what Tyler did.  

Later that night, he found himself wandering across the bar to find you. He’d watched Scott and the rest of the Storm Par team leave an hour ago and had been surprised that you’d stayed behind. 

Dani and Dexter had attempted to stop him but there was really nothing that could stop Tyler Owens when he set his mind to something. Even if, a few hours ago, Tyler had felt like giving up on winning you over was the best course of action.

But Tyler Owens didn’t give up. Not that easily, anyway. And who was he to give in to someone from Storm Par? He was Tyler Owens, a Tornado Wrangler! The fact that he was incredibly drunk never crossed his mind.

“So,” Tyler said, pulling up the seat beside you. “Scott from Storm Par took you chasin’.”

You spun to look at him, surprised by his appearance. You’d spotted him in the bar a few hours ago but had been too preoccupied at the time to think much of it. You assumed he’d left when you’d seen a few members of his team leave earlier, but apparently not.

“He did,” you nodded. “I take it you saw him and the others here earlier.” 

Tyler screwed up his nose. “But you’ve never been storm chasin’ with me.”

You looked at him, amused. He was clearly quite intoxicated. You’d never seen him like this before. Drunk Tyler Owens was quite endearing. “No, I haven’t been.”

“You should,” he said. “I think you haven’t actually been storm chasin’ for real unless you’ve been in my truck, storm chasin’ with me. And you haven’t been, so your trip with Scott doesn’t count.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. This was the man the girls at this very bar had warned you about? The one that flirted with everyone? The poor man was much too drunk to flirt with anyone right now – including you. That probably wouldn’t stop him from trying though.

“Oh, doesn’t it? Well, that’s a shame. I’ll have to tell Scott.”

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t tell your boyfriend I said that.”

“Boyfriend?” You raised your eyebrows. “Who says he’s my boyfriend?”

You saw something like hope spark in Tyler’s eyes. “Isn’t he?”

“He wishes he was,” you admitted, looking down at the roses on the table in front of you. You hadn’t expected him to give those to you, nor to make a beeline to you when they arrived at the bar tonight. Sure, Scott was cute, and he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but when you looked at him… well, that was the problem, really. When you looked at him, you just couldn’t look at him the way you should look at someone you really liked. 

Tyler stared at you for a few moments, as if in shock. “I will be right back.”

With that, Tyler jumped up from the chair and bolted straight to the mens bathroom. You watched as the man he was sitting with before, Dexter, sighed and walked into the bathroom after him. Dani, the other member of his team, wandered over to you.

“Sorry about him,” she said, nodding her head towards the bathrooms. “He usually doesn’t get that drunk. He’s much better at holding his liquor than you’d think he is.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Will he be okay? If he doesn’t drink that much?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Dani seemed quite certain. “He’ll wallow in his self pity for a while and then he’ll be back to same ol’ Tyler. Anyway, I’m gonna go order an Uber to take us back to the motel. No way Ty’s staying here after that. See you around, yeah?”

Dani left before you had a chance to ask her what self pity he was wallowing in and by the time Tyler and Dexter came out of the bathroom, Tyler was in no state to continue a conversation with you. Dexter gave you a nod as he helped a very green looking Tyler out of the bar and probably into the Uber awaiting them outside. 

You finished off your drink and sat in silence, thinking to yourself for a while. For the first time since you’d met Tyler Owens four months ago, you were actually feeling intrigued by him.

~~

It’d been three weeks since your encounter with Tyler Owens at the bar. You hadn’t seen them the following morning, as they’d left the motel early to get chasing, according to your parents, who had taken the keys when they checked out. 

They’d been at the motel once since, and you’d been surprised at the disappointment you felt when Tyler had ignored you for the entire time. He hadn’t even said a single hello, nor come up to you and joked or flirted with you like he usually did. You had no idea if he remembered your conversation at the bar a few weeks ago, but your instinct told you that he didn’t. You couldn’t help but be curious at what had caused the switch.

It was out of that same curiosity that you typed Tornado Wranglers into Youtube and clicked on their channel, wondering if you watched some of their videos, you’d get some kind of clue as to why Tyler had changed around you. They had 500,000 followers now, and you vaguely remembered Boone mentioning they had 200,000 when you’d first met them. That was quite an impressive growth for four months, especially for something as niche as storm chasing.

You were about to start scrolling through their videos when you noticed a new one, right at the top, titled Not My First Tornadeo Live Stream. You laughed a little at the name as you clicked on it, not sure what you were exactly clicking onto. But your breath caught in your throat at the sight that greeted you when it loaded.

For the first time, you let yourself notice how attractive Tyler Owens really was.

Tyler and Boone were sat in the front seats of what you assumed was his red truck and, by the looks of it, they were driving head first into a tornado, as they seemed to do quite often judging by the thumbnails and titles of their other videos. Tyler was driving, one hand on the wheel and his other arm leaning against the arm rest.

“Looks like this is gonna be a good one, guys!” Boone cheered, turning to face the camera to the outside of the truck and showing the tornado forming in front of them. “Look at that beauty!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Boone moved, taking the camera with him and pointing it out of the passenger seat window. He then spun it again, facing it towards himself to show the upper half of his body hanging out the window. 

“Boone, get back inside,” you could barely hear Tyler’s voice through the wind on the microphone.

You were surprised when Boone listened to him, moving back inside the truck and pointing the camera at Tyler. You’d never seen them storm chasing before, but you could tell from the look on Boone’s face that Tyler wasn’t quite himself. 

“Tyler’s feeling a little out of sorts today,” Boone started. “Well, all month, actually. You need to get laid, Ty. Hell, I know it, you know it, even the tornado knows it.”

“Boone, are we live right now?” Tyler glanced at him.

“Yeah, we are, and the chat agrees,” Boone said, clearly looking at something on the screen. “Oh, hang on – I think we even have some volunteers!”

“Don’t say stuff like that. What if she’s watching?”

She? You’re suddenly intrigued. Who is this mysterious she that Tyler mentioned? He’d never mentioned anything about another woman to you – not like he would ever tell you, since he spent most of his time when he spoke to you just getting on your nerves. At least until the bar. But maybe things had changed. Maybe that’s why he’d been different. Because he had something serious with someone. 

Maybe he was no longer the storm chasing flirting hunk that he had been when you’d first met him. That’d explain why he’d stopped flirting with you and started ignoring you. Something uncomfortable settled in your stomach. 

Boone scoffed. “Ty, the day that girl watches one of our lives is gonna be the day that tornadoes miraculously decide to stop forming.” He looked at the screen. “Everyone’s asking who she is now, y’know?”

“Thank you so much for telling all–” Tyler paused to quickly glance at the screen himself, “all 284,000 people watching us right now about her.”

“You brought it up, man!” Boone replied defensively. “Hey, maybe this’ll give you more luck with the ladies and help you get over her. Guys, if anyone’s interested, we’re gonna be at–”

“Let’s focus on the tornado, Boone!” Tyler shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him before. But it did the job, bringing Boone’s focus back to the tornado in front of them as they drove closer to it.

Your mind was whirring as you watched them get closer. You were sure Tyler was right with what he’d said at the bar. Maybe you never really had been storm chasing, considering the fact that what you were watching was so different to the chase that Scott had taken you on. And Boone had said something about getting over her. Had Tyler been dating someone? Had it ended badly? 

As if on cue, your phone buzzed beside the computer, the screen lighting up with Scott’s name on it. You stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and hit answer. 

~~

“Man, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on,” Boone said, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and sitting down on the fold-up chair next to where Tyler was sitting comfortably with a beer of his own. “You’ve been in a bad mood for like a whole month. Even the chat is starting to notice when we’re live during a chase. It’s bad for business.”

Tyler sighed and took a long drink of his beer.

“It’s cause of that girl,” Dani offered from her spot in the doorway of the van. “You know, the one from that motel? Remember when we went to that bar– oh, wait, you wouldn’t remember cause you got drunk by 9 o’clock and Lily took you back to the motel.” 

Boone narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeah, I remember a bit, Dani.”

“Guys, come on,” Tyler attempted, breaking his silence. “It’s late, we’re all tired after the last couple weeks. Can we not just enjoy the quiet and relax?”

“No, man, we can’t,” Boone sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m invested now. What happened with that girl from the motel?”

Dani pointed a finger over to where the Storm Par cars were parked. A few of the members of that team were milling about, but most of them had headed upstairs already. “She’s dating Scott from the Storm Par team,” she explained. 

Tyler’s eyes narrowed in on Scott, who was pacing back and forward, holding his phone up to his ear. Was he talking to you? Listening to you, hearing your beautiful laughter on the other end of the line? On second thoughts, Tyler didn’t wanna know.

“Oh, wait – I do remember that! Didn’t he give her flowers?” Boone piped up, memories coming back from his very drunken night. Tyler was surprised he was able to remember the detail about the flowers considering how much he’d had to drink that night. 

“Yeah, he did,” Lily nodded, joining in the conversation. “And then Ty got so drunk he apparently ran out on her mid conversation so he could go and throw up in the toilet, and Dexter had to go and rescue him.” 

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows. “Mid conversation with her?” He looked between Dexter and Dani. “Was I talking to her when I was sick?”

Dexter nodded. “Yeah, we tried to stop you from going over there but it would’ve taken a tornado to hold you back from her, I think. You weren’t there for long before you made the dash to the bathroom though.”

“Yeah, but she seemed to be understanding when I talked to her about it,” Dani added.

Tyler frowned. He had no memory of that at all – what had he been talking to you about? He’d seen you from a distance the last time he’d been at your motel but he’d made a point not to speak to you because of Scott, trying to save himself the heartbreak, telling himself it was his own damn fault for liking a girl who never gave him even the slightest hint of reciprocation. He took another drink of his beer. Whatever you’d spoken about didn’t matter.

“Okay, enough about her. I’m sorry I’ve been in a bad mood, let’s just move on, all right?” Tyler raised his beer in the air. “How about a cheers to being 10,000 subscribers away from 600k?” 

~~

It didn’t take Tyler long to go back on his word about moving on. 

When they all stayed at your motel again, he had no idea that you’d been watching the livestream a few weeks ago, but what he did know was that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He’d learnt a lot over the past few weeks of storm chasing. Especially when he saw Scott from Storm Par parked on the side of the road, yelling at one of his team members.

That enough told Tyler that he had to win you over more than ever. He just hoped that in the past few weeks since he’d last spoken to you and since he’d seen you at the bar with Scott, things hadn’t gotten so serious between the two of you that he couldn’t stop it. 

Tyler knew that you deserved someone so much better than Scott. Even if that wasn’t him, he wasn’t going to let you end up with someone like that – a man that yelled at his coworkers the way he’d seen Scott yelling at his was not a good man.

He and the team had taken their bags upstairs to their rooms after your parents checked them in and Tyler had been heading back down to the truck to grab a few things they couldn’t carry before when he spotted you. You were walking into the entrance of the hotel from the street. 

Tyler quickly forgot about getting the things out of the truck and made a beeline to you. He could tell by the look on your face that you were surprised at seeing him. Probably because he’d ignored you last time he was here – something he regretted – and here he was, walking right up to you.

“Tyler,” you greeted him with a nod of his head and made an attempt to side-step around him, but he was quick enough to step in your way, making it so you couldn’t pass him. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Have you remembered I exist this visit?”

“Listen, about that–”

“Oh, you’re actually talking to me now?”

Tyler huffed. “Yeah, I am talking to you now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to win you over. Like I’ve been trying to do for the past six months.”

“Six months? Tyler, why are you so intent on winning me over?”

Tyler took a deep breath and then spoke. “Because I like you. I have ever since I first met you. And I cannot stand the idea of you being with someone like Scott, so if you’ll just listen to me for a second–”

“Scott?” You cut him off. “You don’t remember that conversation at the bar, do you?”

He paused. “Do you not remember how drunk I was?”

You laughed to yourself. “Well, yes. I do remember you being so drunk you had to run off to the bathroom, you were slurring all your words and you called Scott my boyfriend. I told you that he wasn’t. He still isn’t, and he never will be.” 

Scott had called you that day you were watching the livestream to tell you that he wasn’t sure he could put as much time into a relationship with you as he put into his job and chasing. It had been a weight off your chest – one you didn’t even realise you had there.

The look on Tyler’s face almost made you laugh again. He looked completely flabbergasted.   You reached up and gently patted his shoulder in slight pity before stepping around him and heading towards the office. Your parents had given you a break, which you’d used to go for a walk and stretch your legs, and they were likely awaiting your return.

Tyler stood in shock for a few moments, but it only took him a second longer to come to his senses. He turned around and called your name, making you turn back to face him. There was a look of amusement on your face. 

“Yes, Tyler?” 

“Go on a date with me,” Tyler said, the words accidentally being more of an order and less of a question. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean – will you go on a date with me?”

That was really not very gentlemanly of him at all. 

 “I thought you usually run away and chase tornadoes before it can get serious with girls.”

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. “Thought I’d change it up a bit and chase you instead.” He paused and then laughed. “Okay, that sounded way more creepy than I intended it to sound. Don’t take that too seriously, darlin’.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him and the sound of his laughter.  Despite the fact that you had spent the last few months doing nothing but tolerating Tyler Owens, you relented. What could it hurt, anyway? It wasn’t him flirting with you at a bar and running off before things got serious. Besides, you had a feeling you might have judged him a little too harshly based on his reputation at first. “Fine. One date.”

“How does tomorrow night sound?”

“You sure you can fit me into your tornado chasing schedule?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pass on a message to the tornados not to happen tomorrow night.”

When Tyler headed back upstairs later that night, he found Boone sitting in his room. He looked at him expectantly as Tyler closed the door behind him. “So, how did it go, man?”

Tyler found it impossible to keep the smile off of his face. “That Storm Par asshole is out of the picture, and I have a date scheduled for tomorrow night.”

~~

For the first time in a long time, Tyler Owens had forgotten to check the weather before leaving the motel. But somehow, it had worked out in his favour. His plans of a romantic sunset picnic were going perfectly. The sky was coloured in bright oranges and pinks. It was the perfect backdrop for your first date. 

Tyler opened up the picnic basket from its spot on the picnic blanket underneath you and passed you a sandwich. You were sat just to the right of him, your eyes fixed on the sunset. 

“Did my mother make this?” You asked, looking down at the sandwich.

He grinned. “I may have enlisted her help. Y’know, she told me that she prefers me to ‘that other boy she’s been seeing’. Says I have more of a country boy spirit to me, that the other one seemed too much like a city kid.” 

You snorted. “I mean, she’s not wrong there. When Scott took me chasing, he specifically made sure we stayed out of the hail and he was very proactive with making sure I always had my window wound up so no water got inside the car.”

If Tyler had been drinking, he was pretty certain he would have spat it all back out. “And you seriously went out with that asshole?” He shook his head. “You’ve seen the greener side of the grass now that you’re here with me, though, haven’t you?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Hmm, it’s not that much greener…”

Tyler gave you a look that made you laugh. 

“No, but seriously. Your storm chasing looks much more adventurous than Scott’s. A hell of a lot scarier, as well. You won’t catch me hanging out the side of your truck just to get a good video of it, that’s for sure,” you grinned. 

He looked at you for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen our videos?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a small bite of the sandwich finally. “I watched a little bit of one of your live streams a little while ago. Boone was hanging out the side of your car and was saying something about you needing to get laid.”

Tyler flushed. Oh, no. Out of all of the live streams you could have caught and you’d watched that one? The one where Boone had said tornadoes would be more likely to stop forming all together rather than you watching their videos? “Okay, I’m gonna need you to wipe that whole experience from your brain for me, okay darlin’?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, shaking your head at his pink tinged cheeks. He was embarrassed. At this point, you honestly weren’t sure that Tyler Owens even knew how to feel embarrassed. But apparently, he could.

“Only if you tell me one thing in return, cowboy.”

“Deal.”

“Why were you so intent on winning me over? And don’t say it’s just because you like me.”

Tyler sighed and leant back on his hands, staring up at the sky which had dulled a little in colour but was still beautiful. “Well, you know that when we first met each other, I liked you straight away. I was flirting with you from the get-go. I think at first it started out as a little bit of a challenge for me. I’m not really used to girls not liking me – and I know that sounds cocky as hell, and it is, but that’s just the truth,” he admitted. “But there was always just something about you that made me wanna get to know you better. And I don’t give up once I set my mind to something, which is why we’re sitting here right now.”

You honestly felt flattered by his words. Amused, too, about his admission that he wasn’t used to girls not being interested in him. But mostly flattered. 

“Now you tell me why you said yes to this date,” Tyler said.

There was no point lying or trying to come up with any other answer other than the truth. You also didn’t want to lie to him. He’d been completely honest with you. He deserved the same from you.

“When we first met, I really didn’t like you. I think I made that pretty clear. I wasn’t interested in being just another girl who got flirted with and then abandoned. But I think that night at the bar, the one you don’t remember, was what made me interested in you. It was the first time I’ve seen you completely honest. You weren’t just trying to flirt with me or mess with me. And then you ignored me the next time you saw me.”

“I said I’m sorry about that!”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I just think I said yes because I figured, what the hell? Things with Scott and I were never gonna work out, I was getting jealous over you mentioning your ex on a live stream. If that isn’t a sure sign I like you at least enough to say yes to a date, I don’t know what is.”

Tyler sat up straighter. “Mentioning my ex on a live stream?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Boone was talking about you getting over someone. You don’t remember? It was the same one where he hung out the window. I only watched the one.”

“Darlin’, that wasn’t about an ex.”

“No?”

“It was about me trying to get over you.”

You stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, completely unable to stop yourself. Tyler couldn’t help but laugh as well. The amount of miscommunication between the two of you simply because you didn’t communicate was ridiculous. 

Both of you had been so busy in your conversation and laughter that neither of you had realised that the sunset had disappeared, replaced with dark clouds. It wasn’t until rain started falling that you both stopped laughing and looked up to the sky.

“Shit, we need to get the stuff back to the truck!” Tyler was quick to jump up, scooping things back into the picnic basket while you grabbed the blanket and rolled it up in your arms. 

You both laughed as you ran back to the truck, luckily parked not far away, and shoved the basket and blanket on the back seat. But the rain had intensified so much in the short amount of time that you were both already soaked to the bone by the time you’d gotten to the car.

“We could really use some of those motel towels right now, huh?” You said.

Tyler looked at you and laughed again. There was no rush from either of you to get back into the truck as you stood side by side beside it, looking into each others eyes as the rain pummelled down. 

He couldn’t believe he was here right now with you. Standing in the rain, on a date. He’d forgotten to check the weather for the first time in a long time. But he’d known all along just how unpredictable the weather could be. Just like you could be. And just like he could be, too.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice loud enough to be heard against the sound of the rain and thunder that had just appeared overhead. 

He watched as your lips quirked up into a smile. “Yes,” you nodded in reply.

Tyler wasted no time in placing his hands on your waist and bringing his lips to yours. He’d never kissed anyone in the rain before, and while it was a memorable experience, it wasn’t entirely pleasant, especially due to the rain getting heavier and heavier by the second, but none of that bothered him because he was kissing you. Because it was your lips moving against his, your hands running through his hair, your body pressed up against his. 

When you broke apart for air, Tyler rested his forehead against yours.

“So, did I win you over?”

“Hmm,” you smiled. “Maybe if you bring me some towels…” 

Tyler let out a laugh and leant in to peck your lips again. “Comin’ right up, darlin’.”

[katszumi]

silence immersed the room as the door clicked shut behind you. the ticking clock a reminder of how little time you have.

“you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you spewed to the male in front of you, your features displaying a look of anger.

katsuki rolled his eyes. “well, it’s not like i get called a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. what else did you honestly expect?” he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat atop of the long metal table.

“not much, yet you still seem to subceed my expectations.”

“subceed? seriously?” katsuki paused to let a scoff escape his lips. “you’re upset because i’m actually selling this story? the only one, might i add. this was your shitty grand idea!”

unknowingly, you took a step forward.

“the idea was to make it known we disliked each other. not for you to publicly shame and insult me!”

you, katsuki and a few other heroes were invited to attend a press conference. while the original topic was to discuss about the mission you all completed the day before, the topic began to stray away and focus on the relationship between you and katsuki.

japan knows of the hatred you and katsuki shared between each other, that was no unknown fact. the media described you two as fiery rivals considering both of your quirks contained fuel.

you two despised each other. or at least that’s the lie you fooled everyone with.

you were unsure when katsuki started to look appealing to the eye, how attractive he was when he was drowned in sweat, how you began to long for the small but noticeable glances he sent you in public. you couldn’t tell when it happened. but before you knew it, a small pool of desire that had katsuki’s name printed on it began to fill every minute of the day.

“which is no different than what we used to do. you want them to believe it? then don’t take my shit. suck it up and be a bigger asshole than i already am.” he was right. you know he was right. but it was so difficult to pretend as if you hated him.

even if you called him a bitch, or a cunt, maybe even call him out for having a small dick—which you know is far from the truth—that still wouldn’t deny the peace you felt whenever you were with katsuki. how the world seemed to stop still on its axis. how there were no rain, wind or time. just pure bliss.

fuck.

out of everyone, it just had to be him? his captivating, intense ruby irises. his brash, abrasive demeanor. only his words that could seem to sway you. the man the world deemed you to abhor.

instead of admitting the truth, you twist his words. “well, i’m pleased to know it’s so easy for you to do.”

“jesus fuck, y/n.” now, katsuki rose from his position, never once breaking eye contact with you. “you think this is easy for me? you think i like getting up there and lying through my teeth? doing this is the one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.”

he walks closer and even closer to you, minimizing the distance you established for good reasons. this is how it always happens; one of you forgets about the space you two have to maintain until words don’t seem to work anymore. instead, your lips weave together, forming a new way to communicate.

but you don’t move. you don’t want to.

“is it? all those insults feels like it comes pretty smooth to you.”

katsuki pauses as he takes a second to analyze you. his eyes scan your body then leading right up to your face.

“because those are the words i wish i could mean. every time, it burns me to say those things about you when i’d rather be up there claiming every single part about you.” he lowered to a whisper, but his voice maintained a fervent tone.

his hand raises, slow and steady. he cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek. instinctively, you lean into his palm, your eyes softening as you gaze into his eyes.

“you think i enjoy this?” you watch his jaw tighten, his hand dropping to your hip. “think i like watching you talk with those eager men? it takes everything in me to not beat them shitless for daring to come across you. do you know how hard it is to fight the urge to pull you in and show them that you’re not available?”

too captivated by his words, you didn’t notice how katsuki lowered his head. you could feel the heat of his body from how he gave you no room to breathe. he placed his lips on your soft skin, slowly kissing the side of your neck.

no. resist him. your mind was screaming. this couldn’t go on forever. at some point, you guys had to stop.

“what will make them back off? if i mark you up? think they’ll understand then?” he proposed the question, but to you, it seemed more like he was asking for permission.

you didn’t know what effect katsuki placed on you to have you like this. but in this moment, you didn’t care about the rumors, the consequences, your image. it was all pushed back in the back of your head. so, you slightly tilted your head upwards, giving him more leeway to continue.

katsuki gripped your hips. not too strong to leave a mark but strong enough to squeeze a small moan out of you.

“don’t you fuckin’ understand, y/n?” he leans away to look in your eye.

“what?” you meekly responded.

“i go insane when it comes to you. i’m not the kind of guy that drools over any woman’s attention. but, you… fuck.” he stops himself, from what you can only assume was to control himself with whatever he was about to say. “not being able to have you only makes me crave you more.”

you stay quiet.

“you know how many times i’ve tried to resist you?”

“how many?” finally, you spoke.

“too many fuckin’ times. i’m done fighting it, y/n.”

confusion struck your face. “what do you mean?”

“be mine. forget the press, forget our pr managers. be with me.” katsuki brings you closer with the hand placed on your hip, the action drawing you to one conclusion.

he leans in and interlocks his lips with yours. immediately, you drown in the feeling of his soft but chapped lips that you couldn’t seem to push away. somehow, you find the strength to pull back from him.

“not here. not in pub-”

“yes here.”

with his tone, you could mistake him to be aggressive in this moment. but over the months, you managed to be able to read his eyes from the forbidden glances he’s sent your way; how he really felt through the way he wore his eyes.

katsuki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his soft ruby eyes shifted from your lips to your e/c irises.

there was a look behind his eyes. there were more watchful, more tender than usual. almost as if he was pleading with his eyes. like he was begging.

so, how could you say no to him in this state? him being so vulnerable with you?

but that was always the problem.

you could never say no to katsuki bakugou, no matter what.

your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him in with your eyes. he inclined his head and laid his lips on your mouth. the silence that did wrap the room ten minutes ago was replaced with the noise of sloppy kisses, your mouths powering over each other.

you can feel your heart rate increase from the action, even more noticeably so when he entangles a fist in the back of your shirt. he needs you closer, maybe within his skin if possible.

following his action, you guide your fingers through his ash blonde strands, sending a shiver down his spine. he nibbles on the bottom of your lip, pulling it just slightly.

“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” your murmur, yet his ears catches it. “this would be the hottest topic for the media.”

a snicker parted his lips. “we just can’t be caught. but the day you stop being scared, i’m ready.” his words vague and simple, yet still holding so much promise.

“i hate you.”

and you did. you hated that he was too enticing. too irresistible.

“thought it was hard for you to say things you don’t mean?” he referred from earlier. of course, that was just like him. the same him you mistakenly fell for.

“just shut up.” was all you replied with before leaning back in to connect his lips with yours, choosing to help him with your statement.

this was supposed to be like a forbidden love trope but i think i just revealed how thirsty i am😔

[sloaneispunk]

“teacher’s pet”pt.2 (mdni 18+)

teacher!in-ho x you

getting involved with his student was risky, but how far was he willing to take it until he would be confronted?

༯ ──── ❤︎ ──── ༯

“you know, something’s up with you and mr in-ho… you’re like way friendlier than most students and teachers are.” you friend commented as you were walking out the school gate.

“what? no!” you glared at her, looking away.

to be fair, it was pretty obvious. you just didn’t want it to end, it felt good having a handsome man like mr in-house wrapped around your finger. but you didn’t know who you were trying to protect more, him or you.

the next day when you stepped into class, you gave him yet another wave, causing him to do the same.

if mr in-ho wasn’t so good-looking, you would say his lessons were mundane. but luckily for you, your interest had peaked miraculously ever since you started attending his class.

when the bell rang, you packed your bags, ready to leave. but just as you brushed past his table, you felt his hand grab onto yours.

“stay back.” he whispered, making you look back at your friends that had left.

“why? did i do something wrong?” you asked as he slowly but hesitantly released your hand.

“no, not at all… i just thought we could spend some time together.” he shrugged, seemingly with pure intentions.

but you saw right through.

bullshit.

“it is your lunch now right?” he asked.

he swiftly half sat on his desk, signalling for you to take his teacher’s seat instead.

“yea, it is. did you stalk my timetable?” you teased causing him to let out a chuckle.

“just happened to see it.”

“okay then. so, how are you liking this school?”

“oh, i’ve taught in this school before. i just haven’t been back into the teaching scheme in awhile.”

“oh, i didn’t know that.” you replied, hands rested on your hands as you stared at him, intrigued. “so i’m guessing you liked teaching him, or you would’ve found another school.”

“of course. there’s something in the air of this school, makes me keep wanting coming back.”

“maybe it’s the student… maybe a student.” you wiggled your eyebrows as you joked, testing waters.

“possibly.” he shook his head in disbelief.

“i’m assuming you don’t have a wife?” you questioned.

“well… i did, but she isn’t with us anymore.” he said, his tone changing, sounding much softer, much more vulnerable.

“oh…i’m sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m sure she must have been very beautiful… inside and out.” you offered him a smile as you placed your hand over him comfortingly.

in-house looked down to where your hands were meeting, breath suddenly caught in his throat.

“thank you.” he cleared his throat before gently pulling away. “so, are you doing anythung after school?”

“no, not really. alot of assignments are piling up, i should go home straight away.” you told him as he nodded sympathetically.

“so you’re a hard-working girl, huh?”

“of course, have you not seen me in your class?” you laughed.

“i have… alot.” the last word said almost in a whiser, barely able to hear if you weren’t fully paying attention to him.

you could feel a string of tension in the air, you breath quickened as he started to move away.

“i should go, should probably eat before my next class.” you made up an excuse, grabbing your stuff and dashing for the door.

before in-house could stop you, you were gone.

shit, did he take it too far?

for the rest of the periods, you couldn’t focus. it was so wrong. so, so wrong.

this was the moment you realised how bad you had it too. in-ho, the man you knew for barely a month had already had you in a chokehold.

when classes ended, you were going to head home. but then came a slight misfortune, it was pouring.

you stood at the gate with a huff as the rain grew heavier by the second. all your friends had took off, heading to a nearby diner together, leaving you behind.

fuck it, you thought. you walked in the pouring rain, feet dragging as you let out curses under your breath.

just then, there was a honk.

as you shielded your eyes from the rain you saw who it was, mr in-ho.

“what are you doing?!” he asked as he pulled up beside you, “get in before you get sick!”

with no other choice, you pulled open the car door, hopping into the passenger seat as you felt his eyes tearing into you.

“thank you.” you breathed out as you looked at yourself, you were soaked. “i’m sorry about the car seat, this looks like a really expensive car.”

“don’t worry about it… are you okay? is it still cold? i can turn off the air conditioning.” he replied, his eyes full of worry.

“no, i’m okay. thank you.”

“do you have an address where i can drop you off?”

in-ho gave you his phone, letting you put your address into his gps before he drove off.

at first, the car ride was silent. it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was a comfortable one. one where you could hear the humming of the engine and the water splashing onto the windshield.

“why did you take off just now?” in-ho suddenly asked, turning to you for a split second.

“i-i just… you- i don’t-”

“it’s okay, you don’t have to answer.”

“no. it’s just that i don’t want to misinterpret anything and end up regretting it for the rest of my life.” you vomitted out.

he stayed silent.

“and what would that be?” he asked after a bried moment of silence.

“that you were into me…” you said softly, “…like how i am to you.”

he only hummed in agreement.

shit, was this it? did you mess up?

before you could somehow salvage the situation, the car came to a stop.

“we’re here.”

“i’m sorry, i knew i shouldn’t have said that. i-i was just misinterpreting the whole thing a-an-”

but you were cut off with in-ho’s soft hands cupping your face, barely giving you any time before his lips met with yours.

you let out a muffled gasp before you melted into him.

at that moment, he was all you knew.

in-ho, in-ho, in-ho.

when he pulled away, you involuntarily let out a whine, causing him to smile.

“it’s our secret.” he said as you nodded frantically. “you know what? since you’re my favourite student, i’ll give you my number…”

he then took out a piece of paper, scribbling his number on it and placed it in the palm of your hand.

“don’t lose it.” he instructed as you were still caught up in what exactly just happened.

with that, you exited his car, giving him a small wave as per usual. he made sure that you got into your apartment before he took off, a stupid smile never leaving his face.

that night, you were on your bed, tossing in turning. you couldn’t sleep.

‘maybe this was the time to put his number to good use.’ you thought.

you crawled over to your nightstand, taking you phone as you typed in his number.

‘hey! i hope this is the right number.’ you texted.

within a minute, your phone had buzzed.

‘Y/n?’

‘yea. sorry i don’t mean to bother you.’

‘It’s alright, i was just grading papers. It’s late, why aren’t you asleep?’

‘couldn’t. but if you’re busy we can talk when you’re free. :) ’

‘Nonsense. Papers can wait. Did you catch a cold?’

‘no, i’m okay. thanks for the ride though!’

‘Anytime, Y/n. You have my number, call me if you ever need a ride home. :)’

you were kicking your feet like a pre-tesn texting their first crush.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow in class okay? Get some sleep, need you to be awake for my class.’

you giggled.

‘okay. goodnight mr in-ho!’

‘Goodnight, Sweetheart. Sweet dreams.’

yup. you were fucked.

༯ ──── ❤︎ ──── ༯

( bungee jumping of their own - 2001 )

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 25

masterpost

Despite the chill in the air, it was a lovely day to be outside. The sun was warm, the ground had dried out after a few days of rain, and the trees were in full color. Danny threw the ball again for Ursa, using the odd launching stick that Dick had gotten for them. It was appreciated, really. Ursa could run and Danny couldn’t throw the ball nearly as far as she wanted by hand.

Ursa raced back with the ball, just a cloud of black fur, and darted right past Danny. Danny spun around quickly, not wanting Ursa to jump on Alfred again (they were working on it), and almost swallowed his tongue.

“Ursa! Gentle, girl! Be gentle!” Danny called out as he took off after her.

Luckily, Ursa listened and planted her fluffy butt on the ground even if she was still wiggling around excitedly.

“Hi there, Ursa, it’s nice to meet you,” Babs said with a soft smile as she held out her hand to be sniffed.

Ursa dropped the ball in the offered hand with a quiet woof and a large grin. Luckily Babs didn’t seem to mind the sudden, slobbery present and threw the ball like Ursa wanted. Ursa was off after it like a bolt.

“Sorry about her,” Danny said as he scratched at the back of her neck. “Play time means fetch right now. She’s pretty determined about these things.”

“That’s okay,” Babs said as she wiped off her hand on her jeans. “She seems like a real sweat dog.”

“She is. It’s been really good to have her.” Danny didn’t even try to hide how found he sounded. He kept his eyes on Ursa, not able to look at Babs as he asked. “Did you… did you find anything?”

“I did.” Babs’ voice was gentle. “Do you want to know now?”

“I— yes, but no? I think this will… I guess… I don’t want to hear this alone, but I think that means I’ll need to explain everything.”

Ursa dropped her ball and came over to Danny where she pressed herself firmly against his leg. Danny buried a hand in her soft fur.

“They’ll all wait however long you need them to,” Babs said.

“I know. But I think… I think I do need to tell them, if I want to get better, and I want to get better.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure the family is on the way for dinner tonight and we can talk once they get here,” Babs said with that carefully gentle sort of voice that Danny always hated a little. Jazz used to do that too. “In the mean time, I’d love to get to know Ursa more.”

Danny cleared his throat. “So, I guess it’s obvious that she really likes fetch…”

-

Dick helped Babs settle onto the sofa. She didn’t need the help, not really, but the easy back and forth of movement was just natural for them, even after all of these years. It also gave him someone to fuss over that wasn’t Danny. What he wanted to do was scoop Danny up into a hug and never let him go. Dick figured that would be a bit too stifling though. Instead, Dick made sure that Babs had her laptop while the rest of the room got settled.

Danny chose the floor, apparently. He leaned back against Jason’s legs while Tim was pressed on the other side with Steph crammed next to him. Damian was on the floor next to Danny. The two were oddly hard to separate. Ursa had draped herself across both their laps; Danny dug his fingers into her mane. He didn’t look up at the rest of the room, even as Cass sat on the arm of the couch.

They hadn’t been told much about why they were there, a fact that ate at Bruce, but he worked to let that go. Danny had asked them to be there and to the one, they had shown up. Alfred was passing around hot chocolate with Duke’s help. The inclination that the comforting drink would be needed was probably right, as much as Dick hated that. He took his own mug and clung to it like a lifeline.

“The other night,” Babs started, “Danny asked me to look into someone for him, a Jasmine Fenton.”

On the television, a picture of redheaded girl appeared. The person who’s hair Babs had reminded Danny of, Dick realized. It looked like a school photo: mediocre studio lighting, bland background, a forced smile. She was late teens with a scatter of freckles and bright blue eyes.

“Jasmine Fenton, age nineteen, is currently enrolled at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville, where her permanent residence is.”

“Arkansas?” Danny asked quietly.

Babs nodded. “She’s been in the state since she entered the custody of Alica Bayard, Jasmine’s aunt from her mother’s side, almost two years ago.”

Danny sagged forward, burring his face into Ursa’s mane. “Oh thank god.”

“Why did her aunt receive custody?” Bruce asked when none of the rest of them seemed able to.

The steadying breath that Babs had to take wasn’t reassuring. “Jasmine was removed from her parent’s custody after the living conditions were found unsafe. This was part of an investigation into the disappearance of her brother, Daniel Fenton.”

A familiar face joined Jasmine’s on the screen. It was the same, awkward sort of school photo and Danny looked even more uncomfortable in it. His hair was shorter, his eyes bluer, and there were none of the scars. This was Danny before everything went wrong.

“The parents, doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton, were never charged with anything relating to the disappearance. They moved away from Amity Park four months later, likely due to increasing hostility from the town.”

“They weren’t dumb enough to keep me in the house,” Danny said. His words were somehow loud in the room despite being muffled by Ursa’s fur. He gave a mirthless chuckle. “You know, I used to think they were … not dumb, but clueless, you know? That they were science smart and low in everything else. The hapless, accidentally mad scientists. And then… and then I find out how much they had planned. That all of me was planned… I don’t know if anything about them was real.”

Damian leaned over to press against Danny’s side, offering his silent support. Dick was proud of how good a brother Damian was to Danny. It was a small silver lining in all of this. Danny slumped against him.

Danny’s eyes flicked back up to the screen and his sister’s face. He glanced away a long moment later. “Is there… are there any picture of the lab from the report that you can put up?”

Of course Babs had the photos and soon they were cycling through on the screen.

Mad scientists was right. The place looked distinctly science fiction, full of every day objects and tools that should be recognizable but where three steps away from reality. Everything was gleaming metal accented with a toxic green.

“My… they… the Fentons are ecto-biologists,” Danny explained as the rest of the room cataloged the details in the pictures.

“Ghost biologists?” Tim asked with furrowed brows.

“Yeah. Not that they ever met the ethics that biologists go by. But they didn’t think ghosts were sentient let alone sapient, so I don’t know why they even called themselves that. They didn’t… the screams means it’s working,” Danny said, choking on something between a laugh and a sob.

Jason cursed, the words a low rumble of anger that echoed through the rest of the room.

Dick had to get up and pace.

He brushed his fingers lightly over his family as he moved through the room, assuring himself they were all there and alright. Bruce caught his fingers and squeezed. Dick huffed, but settled lightly on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“There’s a lot I didn’t really think about as a kid,” Danny said, once the room had settled again. “I should have. But they were—I thought they were my parents. I thought they knew best. When I started to really pay attention… we didn’t see eye to eye pretty quickly, but I thought they were just misguided, you know? I thought that maybe, eventually, I could talk to them about all the things that I’d learned and show them that they were wrong. But I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, sweetheart?” Bruce asked.

“That I was never their son. I was just a lab rat.”

“Danny,” Cass called softly.

Danny shook his head. “It’s true! They even said it: ‘you can love the test monkey, Danny, but you can’t let that get in the way of the experiment’. Apparently I was an easy monkey to care for. Not too demanding. Easy enough for them to just add to the effort they already put towards Jazz, their real kid. Easy enough to ignore when they wanted. For me it was all just… normal. Just how I grew up.”

Tim bumped Danny with his leg. “Don’t worry, Steph and I will teach you how to annoy everyone in this family so that they can’t ignore you.”

The little snort of laughter Danny made seemed to surprise even him.

“Not that we would want to ignore you anyways, Dandelion,” Jason said. “We’re not perfect, but we’re family. Real family.”

Danny leaned back against Jason’s legs, a faint smile on his lips. Dick felt something in himself unwind at the sight. Jason was right, they were far from perfect, but they were family and they would be there for Danny always. It would talk time, a lot of time, but Danny would be alright. And all along healing he’d be loved.

Bab’s caught Dick’s eye. She clearly had more to tell, but Dick shook his head slightly. Give everyone a moment. Let everyone process and drink their hot chocolate and eat some of the cookies that Alfred brought with his impeccable timing. When everything was calmer and the cookies almost gone, Dick got up and returned to his seat by Babs. He touched her wrist gently. It was as good as time as any.

“So I’ve figured out when the Fentons visited Gotham,” Babs said. An old, poor quality image of a convention banner popped up on the television. It was for alternative energies. Next to it was a list of booths, the Fenton’s ‘Ectoplasm Energy’ booth highlighted. “But what I don’t understand is why they chose to clone Bruce. They never tried to use it as a claim for child support or any of the obvious reasons someone would clone a Wayne for.”

“I, um, never knew the when,” Danny said, squinting at the images. “I didn’t… I didn’t even find out the who until I was escaping. It was stupid to stop and look, they could have come back at any moment, but I had to know, you know? But I know the why. Bruce registers as a liminal. I would bet all of you do except for Steph and maybe Alfred. Well, Jason is more like me and Dami is something other, something more. Duke’s totally different.”

Bruce leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Liminal.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. It can—like, it’s not the best term, really, because it can mean a lot. A lot of exposure to death, exposure to death at key moments, being somewhere liminal for a really long time, or longterm exposure to ectoplasm can cause it.”

“Is it dangerous?” Tim asked, mouth twisted in a curious frown.

“No,” Danny said quickly. “Think of it sorta like a meta gene? Some people are more susceptible to being liminal and liminals, if exposed to the right… incentives, can develop… not powers but kinda? Or, if things go really wrong, can turn into a halfa.

“My—the Fentons are really immune to being liminal, they learned that in college when their lab partner got really sick and then later turned into a halfa. I dodn’t know if… I don’t know if they would have tried to use Jazz like that did me if not. I don’t think so but… well, they didn’t have to worry about her when they exposed me to all sorts of stuff around the house growing up.”

“They chose to clone me simply because I was a liminal?” Bruce asked. He sounded befuddled.

To be fair, it was like the weirdest reason ever to clone Bruce Wayne and Batman.

“Yeah. A strong one,” Danny said. “Gotham itself is pretty liminal and you’re, you know, both her knight and her prince. I think you were sort of like the perfect choice for them to pick. I guess you went to the convention. They had you handle a device, it nicked you enough for them to get blood. They, um, would have played it off. Like they bragged, everyone always just thought D…Jack was just a bumbling fool. It let him get away with a lot.”

“They snagged Bruce’s blood and cloned you to just, what, have their own liminal?” Steph asked. Her nose scrunched up at the whole idea of it.

“Yeah. Apparently they tracking how much I was exposed to and what my levels where. I didn’t… I never noticed. It was just growing up. My, they always did my check ups. Experiments were left everywhere. I cleaned the lab. Sometimes hot dogs came back to life and attacked.”

“What?!” Duke squawked.

“One more reason to be vegetarian,” Damian tsked.

Danny just shrugged. “It was just life. But, um, I didn’t really get any powers or anything so they pushed things. They set it up for me to die and be exposed to a huge amount of ectoplasm at the same time.”

Dick stilled. “It was planned?”

“What?”

“You said they killed you, but it… that was planned. Killing you was planned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said softly. “Like, I thought it was an accident, just being a stupid teen and not being safe enough around big science experiments. My friend just wanted a picture of me in the portal. It turned on and—”

Danny trailed off, fingers tight in Ursa’s fur.

“And halfa.” Cass said.

“And halfa,” Danny agreed. “Which I guess was the best outcome. I could have just died and been a ghost. It was proof that someone liminal enough could be dead and not at the same time. My, um, my friend Sam said I was responsible to fight the ghosts that the portal accident let out. It was just another way to test my powers and see how they grew. Not that, it wasn’t Sam testing me, but the Fentons would let ghosts ‘escape’ and I would fight them and get new skills.”

“You were a hero, Master Danny?” Alfred asked with a purposeful look to Bruce.

Bruce had the good graces to look a little chagrined. “It just seems part of the make up at this point?”

Danny smiled a little. “I guess. I went by Phantom. The city didn’t always like me, the ghosts could cause a lot of damage, but nothing ever got too bad. I really thought I was doing something important.”

“You were,” Tim insisted. “Even if the Fentons were the real villain behind it all, you still dealt with the threats that you knew about.”

“…I guess?” Danny agreed doubtfully. “I don’t know if it matters when they just were waiting for my powers to stagnate. Apparently they had pressure from the group that was funding them, the GWI, for results so they moved up their time line. I went to sleep and woke up in a box in a GIW lab. Then I was just a lab rat. I was just something to experiment on and cut into and—and—”

Dick moved to the floor and Danny’s side, pulling his newest little brother into a tight hug. “Don’t. You don’t have to think about that anymore.”

They had seen the scars.

They knew the sort of things that Danny had been through.

That those monsters had done.

Danny didn’t need to relive any of it just to try and explain things to them. Part of Dick wanted to protect his other siblings from having to be exposed to those horrors too, even with everything else they had been through. Danny sniffled wetly and buried his face into Dick’s shoulder. Hitched sobs wracked his body. Ursa huffed and tried to lick Danny’s chin. Damian leaned closer.

Dick looked up at Jason who was already watching Dick with a question in his gaze. Jason didn’t listen to anyone, not really, but this was a family mater and Dick was the oldest child. It was his call. Dick didn’t even hesitate to nod.

Jason looked viciously pleased.

Jason and Tim could handle the Fentons. The Titans would see to the GWI. The Justice League could deal with any fallout. The family would protect their own.

Dick pulled Danny closer as he let him cry.

---

AN: *lies down dead like Danny* this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you all like it and it feels full.