#dex x reader

[amberlynnmurdock]

Carnival Games

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: Based off this lovely request about Dex impressing his North Star by winning a bunch of carnival games. Your boyfriend is the best sniper and he takes that skill to the carnival.

Genre: FLUFF. So much fluff that I really wish Dex had this love in his story *heart clutch*

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was so fun to write, also the ending might be REALLY CHEESY but IDC, Dex fluff is so fun and cute I was literally giggling writing this lol Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you love it! <3

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the intense training he did in Quantico or if it was simply just because of his nerves, but Dex could never fully be relaxed no matter what environment he surrounded himself in. Even at home, he was always on high alert. Checking windows, making sure his curtains completely covered them. It was second nature for him to grab the knife he kept under his pillow when he heard a strange noise down the hall. It was second nature for him to scan any crowd and look for potential threats. 

So being surrounded by loud noises, flashing lights and the smell of funnel cakes wafting in the air was definitely a less-than-ideal situation for him to be in. He’d never willingly go to a carnival—in fact, he’d rather go through the intense training he did when he first started at the FBI than buy a ticket to go to a place like this. The only reason he was here now, surrounded by these squished crows and children running, people on dates and families—God, that was the worst to see—was because of you. You were the only person he would let succumb him to this kind of torture. And you had no idea. 

At least Dex had the option to wear his baseball cap tonight. It somewhat helped in blocking out the crowds but at the same time, he needed to see everyone at every angle. Most importantly, he needed to see you. You were practically dragging him through the crowds, holding on tightly to his hand, looking back every once in a while to make sure he was okay. Overall, Dex wasn’t okay, but the moments you gave him your attention, he somewhat was. Everything around him became white noise when he focused on you. He longed for the moment it was time to go home so it can be just the two of you. 

“I’m so excited,” you looked back at Dex, whose eyes were darting between people and rides. He had that familiar look on his face you knew all too well—he was overwhelmed. You had asked him probably ten times if he was okay with going to the Brooklyn Carnival and each time, Dex said yes—even though you knew better. He wanted to so badly do the things you wanted, but the price of that was his comfort. You made a note to yourself that if you did catch him getting overwhelmed—like he was now—you’d pull him aside to bring him back down. 

“Hey,” you stopped in your tracks, pulling Dex by his hand closer to you. He was startled by the sudden stopping as he focused his dark hazel eyes on you. 

“Is everything okay?” Dex asks, “Did you see something?”

You shook your head softly, touching his cheek. “I’m okay. Everything is fine. Are you okay?” 

Dex nods his head, averting his eyes from the people that surround them. “I’m okay if you are.”

“We can leave—“

“No,” Dex interrupts you. He won’t let his nerves get in the way of your date. “I want to stay.”

“Okay,” you smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand again and pulled him closely through the crowd, passing the rides, food stands, and entertainment until you reached the games. Different booths surrounded the area. There were more kids around and families waiting in line for different games. The image of them all sent a pang to Dex’s heart. It was a reminder that he never had this kind of childhood—a childhood full of laughter and cotton candy and games. He can’t think of that right now, not when you’re laughing and smiling at the same thing he sees. Dex smiles at you because you’re the only thing that can make him smile right now.

“What should we play first?” You squeeze his hand a few times and meet his eyes. Dex sighs in exasperation, looking around at all the games. His attention falls on a ring toss game in front of them. 

“How about that one?”

You smile. “Sure.”

Dex was the one who led the way this time. He grabbed your hand and pulled you between people, watching them carefully, and shooting them daggers if they weren’t moving for you. At the booth, a man in his late 50s smoking a cigarette asks for two tickets from both of you to play. Dex carefully pulls them from his back pocket and hands him the tickets. 

“Alright,” the man grunts, “throw all five rings on the bottle and you win a little teddy bear.”

Dex squints his eyes and takes the rings from the man, handing them to you. You squeal in excitement and squeeze Dex’s shoulder. 

“Okay, me first,” you demand. Dex laughs lightly and steps out of your way. “I want that little teddy bear.”

“You’ll get it,” Dex encourages you. He glances at the small stuffed animal hanging from the top of the board. 

You shuffle the rings between your hands and notice each ring has a different size, obviously to show the level of difficulty to get it around the bottle. Still, it seemed easy enough, like throwing a frisbee. You squint your eyes to level the ring to the top of the bottle and flick it quickly, successfully getting the biggest—easiest—ring around the bottle. Dex smiles to himself and crosses his arms, beginning to feel more engaged with the game. 

“Just got to get four more, darlin’,” the man chuckles from the corner of the booth. He didn’t see it, but Dex shot him an intimidating glare. 

“I got it,” you reply. Dex shifts in his stance and watches you carefully. 

You level the second ring up and flick it a little too fast, flying right over the top of the bottle. You sigh in defeat—at least you have three more. Dex shifts again and watches intently. 

Without fail, you manage to miss every single last ring. Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, in a funny way that a carnival game could make you emit such an emotion, but also because your boyfriend happens to be one of the top snipers in the FBI and he just witnessed you miss each attempt. You look at Dex, shake your head, and roll your eyes in good nature.

“Oh, whatever. Your turn,” you laugh as you step aside. Dex maneuvers around you and dismisses the mocking expression on the man’s face. 

“No teddy bears yet,” he laughs. 

Dex is determined, and it’s almost comical how easy it is. 

You can’t even count the number of seconds that go by when all five rings easily land around the bottleneck by Dex’s doing. You jump up to him and squeeze his shoulders.

“DEX!!!” You squeal, “Let’s go!!”

Dex wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you close against him. He looks up at the man under his baseball cap and smirks. 

“The little teddy bear, please,” Dex demands. 

“Alright, alright,” the man waves in defeat as he reaches for the small bear at the top of the board. “Here you go.”

Dex takes the bear from him and hands it to you with a smile. 

“You earned it,” Dex says in a low voice.

You reach up and kiss Dex on his jaw. “Let’s play another game.”

Dex laughs. “Your choice.”

You walk Dex to the middle of the path, one hand in his, the other holding the teddy bear he won for you. You look around each booth until your jaw drops and your eyes widen on the biggest stuffed duck you’ve ever seen and immediately know you must have. 

“Oh my, God, Dex,” you gasp, walking to the booth like a magnet. “I need to win that giant duck.”

Dex follows your gaze and lets out a loud, genuine laugh, only you could cause him to have. Because of course, you need that giant stuffed duck. It had to be half his size, and so round you could probably use it as a pillow. Its orange legs flopped beneath its giant yellow body. Something like that brought no joy to Dex but seeing you excited over it did. 

“I’ll go first though,” you say to him. “I do want to earn one of these things.”

“All you,” Dex gently bumps your shoulder in encouragement. 

You walk up to the booth and ask the older woman how to win the giant stuffed duck. She laughs and playfully punches the stuffed animal among the smaller ducks that people are more likely to win. 

“No one’s won this thing in all the years I’ve come here,” she says. “You’ve got to shoot every moving duck on this platform in under two minutes. There’s 15 ducks. The more ducks you shoot, the faster the machine goes. If you can manage that, you’ll win this giant duck. If you only hit, let’s say, five of them, you win a rubber ducky.”

“Okay,” you nod carefully, pondering your technique in hitting all the ducks. “We’d like to play.”

“That’ll be three tickets.”

You look at Dex who already is reaching for the tickets in his back pocket. He hands the woman the tickets and goes back to watching you from behind. It’s a seated game, with a fake gun attached to the table that shoots tiny rubber bullets. The gun is locked in this position to ensure it stays facing the game, with a little movement to swirl around. You take a seat in front of the fake gun and place your hands on it, realizing you’ve never held something even remotely close to a weapon. A thought dawned on you that Dex does, quite often for his job, and for some reason that tugged your heart. You hoped a game like this didn’t make him uncomfortable. So when you looked back at him once more and he offered you the tiniest of smiles, that tells you all you needed to know. 

The woman went out of the way and flipped a switch to start the game. The tune of Ring Around the Rosie started to play from the speakers as the ducks on the board began to move around. You aimed at one of the ducks in the top row and hit it smack in the middle. The clock was ticking, and the more you hit the ducks, the faster the machine moved, making it impossible to aim and shoot at them all. As soon as the timer dinged, the machine stopped and a mocking tune played from the speakers. 

“Damn it! So close,” you said in exasperation. The woman chuckled. You got up to meet Dex who was already handing her the tickets so he could play. 

You stood behind Dex as he took a seat in front of the fake gun. Dex didn’t even look at you as he sat down and focused on the game, which made you smile. It was funny to see a tough and seasoned FBI agent as he was getting competitive over a silly carnival game—it meant a lot to you that he was only doing it just so he could win you a stuffed animal. It meant even more that he seemed to be having a good time. 

The woman started up the machine again just as Dex rolled his shoulders to relax. His fingers twitched on the trigger of the fake gun. Once the music started playing, Dex wasted no time in shooting at every single duck at moved, proving that the speed of the machine had nothing on his skill. You watched from behind him with your mouth open in amusement. Even the woman was stunned, as she stood in the corner of the booth and stared at each duck go down in under one minute. 

“Well,” the woman sighed as the machine began to play victorious music. “That’s a first.” 

Dex let out the breath he was holding once the fake gun locked in place and the machine of ducks reset itself. He placed his hands on his thighs and watched as the woman unwound the giant duck stuffed animal from the prize board. You were already waiting for her at the corner of the booth in excitement. When she finally brought it over, you gave it a big squeeze and went over to Dex. 

“Dex!” You said in excitement, “I can’t believe you did it! I mean, I can believe it, because my boyfriend is the best sniper in the FBI, but you really won it for me!” 

Dex stood up from the seat, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck, your bodies separated by the ridiculously large duck. He held you even tighter. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. That’s all he needed to say for you to know what he meant. 

◎◎◎

As the night went on, you and Dex played as many aiming games as you could find. And every time you played, you played the best you could—but when it was Dex’s turn, you always left the booth with another stuffed animal. On the way out of the carnival, Dex asked if you could stop at a funnel cake booth to take some home. That wasn’t a hard request to grant. 

Now, sitting in the car of the subway, Dex sits with the giant duck in his lap as you carry the rest of the stuffed animals in your arms. 

“I’ll probably donate all this,” you sighed, feeling a bit tired. 

“That’s nice of you,” Dex replies, turning his head to look at you. When he looked forward again, he saw the reflection of you both sitting with the stuffed animals in your hands. Dex looked the silliest, with the giant duck in his lap. You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder, ignoring the powder from the funnel cake on his denim jacket. 

“We’re keeping the duck, though,” you said, resting your eyes. 

Dex laughed and held it tighter in his lap. “We worked hard for it.”

“I hope you had a good time, Dex,” you whispered. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, matching your tone. “I did have a good time.”

In the reflection again, he sees you take a deep breath as you finally let yourself fall asleep on his shoulder. He looks around the car of the subway—not many people are on. Not many threats to worry about. He kisses your temple before focusing on your surroundings again until the subway reaches your stop. 

When the two of you finally reach Dex’s apartment, you set the stuffed animals on his couch carefully but carry the duck into his bedroom. You placed it perfectly in the middle of his bed and smiled to yourself. Dex wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck again. You lean into his warmth as he caresses your body softly, his strong hands moving up and down the length of your torso. 

“I’d play all those games again to win you more ridiculously sized ducks,” Dex whispers. “And I’ll never miss one shot.” 

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hello! I was wondering if you can do something with dex from zombieverse? I recently finished the show. Maybe like a zombie au version with fluff? Like how they protect each other and like little sweet simple cute actions if that makes sense like when she gets cold etc 😭 I feel like dex is being slept on since I haven't found anything like an x reader. He deserves some love 🙏

hi! hi! hi! thank you, thank you, thank you for requesting him!!!!! I've been wanting to write for him since I saw the show and how hot he was!! I really hope you enjoy this and feel free to request more of him in the future!

summary - the apocalypse strikes out of nowhere while you are shopping, thankfully there's a good-looking man that rescues you and makes you fall for him in a short amount of time.

warning - zombies.

I couldn’t find a gif, the picture isn’t mine:(, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

You thought going out and getting some essentials from the grocery store was going to be fine, what you didn’t expect to see was people being attacked or dragged into the back room with your hand still gripping your bag. “Hey! Hey! What’re you doing?!” You yell, slapping whoever’s hands are on you only to stare wide-eyed at a zombie coming in your direction, a small scream escaping you. “Okay! Keep dragging me! But quickly! We’re gonna die!” 

You both make it into the room, door slamming and you turn to finally look at who it was. Your eyes widen and your jaw falls to the ground. “Holy shit, you’re hot!” If it was even possible, your eyes widened even more, slapping your hand over your mouth as the rest of the people in the room laugh. You quickly bow your head and move over to the table taking a seat. 

Thirty minutes go by and everyone has come up with a plan. You can’t help, but sneak glances at the man in the green tracksuit only to turn away flushed when he continued to catch you. Someone snaps you out of your thoughts with a groan, complaining that they are hungry. “Oh!” You pull your bag up, waving it around as there’s some snacks and drinks packed inside. “I remember packing this in here so I didn’t have to grab a basket. Here.” You hand it over, watching them tip the contents out and go through them, sneakily you grab a bottle and some food before making your way over to the man that saved you. “Excuse me…” 

He turns, staring down at you. “I thought that you might like some before it’s all gone.” You hand the food and drink over shyly. Dex smiles, taking them from you.

“Thank you… I am Dex, by the way.” 

You grin, “Y/n. Thank you for saving me.” You continue to stare into each other’s eyes, only looking away when someone clears their throat. You both turn and pay attention, you feel a soft poke causing you to look over your shoulder and see that Dex is offering you some of his food. You didn’t know it was possible to fall in love so fast. 

“Huh?”

Your eyes widen even more. “Huh?!” Your head whips around, seeing everyone is staring at you with their eyes wide and jaws dropped. “Did I say that outloud?!” The women begin to giggle, covering their mouths before they direct the attention back to their planning. 

Dex taps you again, looking down at you with a gentle smile. Without any words, he offers his drink and you feel yourself become flushed when you realise he’s already taken a sip and it’s like you would be kissing him. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, you had only just met this man and you’ve already confessed your love and now your thinking about kissing him… He was very handsome though. “Thank you… I’m sorry about before…” 

He waves you off and you swear your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as his eyes drift over you, checking you out. Time passes, you and the remaining survivors have made it into a truck, tucked away in the back as two members of the group sit in the front, driving. You shiver, you weren’t expecting to be out all night so you didn’t dress for when it got extremely cold, your head was also drooping to the side from how tired you were, but you didn’t dare sleep. You didn’t want to fall asleep incase something were to happen. 

You don’t notice the recently nominated leader beside you, watching you or that he unzips his green and white jacket until he places it over your shoulders, giving you a smile. Dex pats his shoulder, pulling you closer gently as you rest your head against him. Slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep, he smelt so good even though you’d been through so much. The group watched as you slept and Dex stared at you with a small smile on his face before looking out and watching for danger. Something inside him wanting to make sure you weren’t in danger. 

You wake when the truck comes to a stop, squinting out you notice there is another truck and a car blocking the road. Everyone gets out and you pull Dex’s jacket closer to you, slipping your arms through the sleeves so that you aren’t so cold. “What’s happening?” You cover your mouth as you let out a small yawn, leaning your head against his arm, subconsciously. 

“We can’t get through unless we move them, but we’ve noticed that this is a delivery truck so we’re going to check for essentials.” You nod, listening to him.

“Why don’t we just drive around? There is enough room?” You look at the road, wondering how you are in a group of not the brightest people. “But we take the delivery truck. We could either fit inside or find a secluded place to look through and find what we might need.” You look up at him, noticing he’s staring down at you with a look of admiration. “What?”

“Maybe you should be leader.” You shake your head with a small smile, “I mean it. We could lead together? I’m sure that the group would allow it.” He nods to himself and you stare at him, this is the most he’s talked this whole time together and you only just realise he talks the most when he’s around you and no one else. 

Lee Si-young appears behind you. “I am happy to give up my position, I didn’t really want it in the first place and you two seem like a better team.” She smiles and before you can think about thanking her, she disappears. 

“Zombies! Quick!” Dex wraps his arms around you, moving you away just in case. You whack him.

“You dumbarse, if you are protecting me, who’s protecting you?” Your cheeks puff out, glaring up at him.

“Shh, get back into the truck.” You comply, something in his tone makes you want to obey him and only him. 

You guys manage to get both trucks and drive to somewhere where it looks safe and secluded before you all begin to search the delivery truck. Dex finds some chocolates and begins to make his way over to you, clearing his throat so you can turn your attention toward him.

“Yeah?”

“Here…” He hands them over, looking down at his feet and your face heats up, a soft smile appears as you gently take them from him and grab his hand, pulling him somewhere away from the group and you sit, pulling him down with you. 

You open the packet and hand him one, your eyes connecting as you both take a bite of the chocolate. Neither of you notice that the group has hidden behind something, heads peaking out as they all watch you with giant smiles on their face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[takenbypeter]

True Love’s Kiss

Ben Poindexter x reader

Words: 788

Author's note: I feel like I haven’t written for Dex in years!!! Anyways I’m in my Dex era again so feel free to request for him. This was based on a prompt I found somewhere that said, Smooching them all over the face, because that's the only thing that gets them to wake up

To this day there were times when Dex couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him.

To him you were so beautiful, so captivating, so untouchable. Yet here he was, his face only a few inches apart from your own as he waited for you to wake.

The day was stressful for Dex, and knowing that, the moment you two arrived from work you settled in comfy clothes before convincing him to take a small nap together to relax. Despite this plan derailing him from his usual routine, he wasn’t upset, he could never grow upset when spending time with you.

While Dex woke up earlier than anticipated, his intent was to let you rest some more, but as he continued staring at every detail that decorated every feature on your face, his lips became like a magnet as they were unconsciously drawn to your cheek.

He reached your cheek with a kiss. It was a soft kiss, a soft, calm and quiet kiss.

His heart quickened slightly as he retracted. You looked so tranquil he felt a little bit of nervousness in his actions.

Once again though, just as before his lips met your face, this time slightly higher onto your cheekbone. As his lips rested there for a mere moment he felt your face twitch and he cautiously leaned back.

But still, you were relaxed. Now Dex was starting to feel a little cheeky as he began to wonder how many kisses it would take for you to wake up. So, he placed his next kiss on your nose, which twitched just as your cheekbone had done.

When he distanced himself this time, his eyes fell to your lips and again he began to feel those jitters from earlier. He’s kissed your lips hundreds of times before, but right now, in this moment it felt like a whole new experience.

Especially as he quickly realized how much this scenario was reminding him of a cursed sleeping princess. You were the gorgeous princess that needed awakening from true love’s kiss. Did that make him the prince?

Dex hardly felt like the prince, if anything he considered himself to relate more to the beast in beauty in the beast, or maybe the ogre in shrek. Did he really have the right to lay here and kiss the alluring princess? But still even those characters got their princesses in the end.

Before Dex could spiral down the self-deprecation hole any further he glanced at your face as a whole reminding himself of how happy he was. He was happy you were in his life, happy you chose him, happy you were right in front of him.

He loved you. And no one would ever love you as much as he did.

With that thought he finally leaned in again, his lips finding their place against yours.

Just as all the others it was a chaste, simple kiss.

As his lips were to yours he felt your mouth curve a tiny bit before he felt them press back against his.

But again your lips broke into a smile causing him to retract once again.

He stared while you looked back at him with a cheesy grin now taking over your expression.

As if you had just read his mind you sigh, “…my prince, you saved me.”

Dex’s face matches yours and after a moment of consideration he followed you, “of course. Anything for my princess,” he replied, making you giggle before you reached out brushing your hand down his face, “now close your eyes, I wanna be the one to save you.”

Dex thought the whole idea a little silly but he did so anyway.

As per instruction Dex lay on his back, his hands atop one another as they rested on his stomach. His face remained neutral apart from the tiniest of curves that were threatening to break on his lips. He felt movement on your end of the bed and he waited.

…and waited.

And when nothing happened, he opened one eye catching you lying again on your side looking right back at him with a goofy smile on.

“Hey,” he said, eyes both open now.

“What? I didn’t say when I’d break the spell.”

Smile growing, he propped up, turning to his side and resting on his shoulder, “oh you’re going to break this spell, right now,” he said quickly lowering himself to your level and practically stealing a kiss. This time with a little more affection as he held one hand to your chin, cradling it so carefully.

You were going to argue against the unwarranted kiss but you were so captivated by his lips that you decided to let him go.

This time.

[bunmurdock]

omg i’m so glad you liked my ask from a few days ago 🙈 the dark!mm brainrot is so real and i’m glad i finally have someone to yap ab him with 😭

now listen, i looooove manipulative!dark!mm who knows just what to say to get you to acquiesce to him,  who knows he’s drop dead gorgeous and uses it to his advantage, who has an established career and enough money to flaunt it when he wants to BUT hear me out…

a matt murdock that’s still dark and manipulative, but not totally comfortable doing so. like, he’s kinda pathetic and very much a loser but he just can’t help being attracted to you? like, he knows that his knee-jerk reaction to passing you in the hallway shouldn’t be making a u-turn to follow you just to try and memorize your class schedule, your favorite hangouts, the little nook in the library that you tend to hibernate in when finals are coming up. matt shouldn’t need to know every little thing about you... but he does, and it pisses him off so much that he starts testing you, jeering and subtly taunting you to gauge if you’re worth all the effort he’s put in to get to know you. when you start arguing back and spitting out insults and barbs of your own, he’s practically giddy, floating on cloud nine for the entire week after he gets you to spit out his first name like it was a curse. 

he’d had to hide his hard-on with his bookbag as he’d fled the lecture hall but it was 100% worth it.

it’s his way of ‘courting’, but you only see it as this random guy in your class being an asshole for no reason. so while matt’s like “omg i can’t wait for class tomorrow, hopefully she wears that perfume i like :)”, you’re dreading going to class bc that douchebag murdock is going to be there and you can’t fucking stand him. 

the poor thing is so delusional that he actually starts believing that you like him back (wayyyy before the hook up during finals week from the last ask). he overhears you venting to your friends about the shithead in one of your classes that keeps picking on you. matt (crouching and hiding in the bushes, probably) is all riled up, wondering who the fuck was bothering his girl and planning to pay them a visit (and maybe rough 'em up a bit), only to get severely humbled when one of your friends asks what your tormenter’s name was and you say “matthew fucking murdock” in that same icy tone as before.

but this time, it feels as though you'd dumped the iced latte in your hand over his head. he SULKS for a week straight, a dark storm cloud rumbling over his head as he gives you the cold shoulder during class. you’re having a good time, obviously, bc you don’t have matt criticizing you every other second but he’s angry and confused, fuming but also bewildered bc he thought he’d been flirting?? if you’d just told him how much he was bothering you instead of fighting fire with fire, he’d have eased up a bit and changed his approach but nooooooo. he had to find out by eavesdropping overhearing you ranting to your little friends. 

i don’t want this ask to be as long-winded as the others but i wanted to share the love i have for loser!pathetic!mm, the little known and underappreciated subsidiary of dark!mm

-⭐️

this. this is true loser!mm. girl i'm not gonna lie i'd both be terrified and repulsed by him.

i think to be matt murdock is to feel internal conflict, and in a darker timeline, i fear this could be him given his tragic upbringing and fear of abandonment. all it'd take is one little thing to pique his attention for him to be head over heels. but he doesn't know how to talk to you, let alone believe that he has a real chance at a normal life with you. and so he develops a twisted way of communicating his intentions to you.

maybe the evening after the whole ordeal with your friends, you catch a masked man slipping in through your window. he crowds you up against the wall before you get the chance to reach for your pepper spray. says he just wants to smell your hair, and you acquiesce with tears in your eyes as he presses his nose up against the crown of your head. says you could have been everything, but you had to go and ruin it but that you'll have a chance to make it up to him over the next few weeks. you file a restraining order and move to new neighborhoods. but he finds you in a matter of days every time.

share your mm thoughts

[everythingsf1ne23]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

 | 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘳 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 💌:

enjoy my lovelies <33 ~Jess

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 📝:

in which, Dex took her by surprise by asking her out on a date and this is how the date goes 

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

When Dex asked me out, I must admit I was quite surprised as I thought that I wouldn’t be pretty enough for him but here I am in my apartment getting ready, 

I’ve treated myself to a short sage green dress for this date, I decide to pair it with white platform heels, my handbag and lastly I put a white bow in my hair.

Afterwards, I start my makeup and I check the time, 6:30pm so that means I only have half an hour to finish getting ready, 

I do my makeup quite natural and I finish off with a spritz of perfume. 

Just after I finish getting ready, the doorbell to my home rings indicating that Dex is here, I practically run to the door with excitement.

I lock the door to my house and I turn to face Dex, he is dressed up real nice.

“Wow you look absolutely stunning!” Dex exclaims and I could feel my cheeks turning rosy 

“Thank you, you’re looking very handsome” I reply as he takes my hand into his own

“No problem and thanks, I don’t get told that very often”

“Well you should be told that and hopefully I’ll be able to tell you more often”

I say without thinking and I look over to see Dex smiling

“That’s obviously only if you still like me and my company after this date” I tell him and he looks directly into my eyes,

“I’ve been crushing on you for ages, I don’t think I could ever get tired of you and your company” 

The two of us continue walking hand in hand while talking for a few moments,

“So where are you taking me for our date?” I ask Dex with a soft smile.

“I remember you telling me that you love Italian food so I assumed that an Italian 

restaurant would be a good option

 for this date”, my heart melts I can’t believe that he remembers me telling him that especially after I only said it once 

“That sounds amazing!” I respond.

We’re now at our table, it has a window view which is nice ‘cause I like looking out of windows but something tells me that tonight I won’t be looking out that window very often as I’ll be looking right at the beautiful man in front of me.

I quickly look through the menu and I pick out carbonara as that’s my favourite,

“I’m gonna get the carbonara, what are you gonna have?” I ask him out of curiosity and also because I love how he speaks.

“I’m thinking of having the spaghetti bolognese”, Dex replies and his eyes are on me again 

“That’s a great choice!” I exclaim with a bright smile and then we order our meals

“You’re always so bubbly and kind, I really admire that about you” I watch Dex smiling at me and he has a glimmer in his eyes,

“Aww I always try to be” 

“I’ve been thinking about this date all week” Our meals come over quicker than expected to us and we tuck in straight away

“I have to, I’ve been so excited but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to ask me out, I thought that you would have went for someone prettier than me” I reply with honesty in my voice, suddenly Dex reaches across the table and he takes my hands into his

“You’re joking right? There’s no girl like you here, I mean you’re kind, honest and really pretty, you don’t find those qualities all in one girl very often and it may be too early to say this but I’m saying it anyways, honestly you might be the one for me”

I didn’t realise I was crying but after a while, I felt my cheeks getting wet and Dex reaches over to me with a tissue

“Are you okay?” He asks softly and I nod 

“Yeah I am, I’ve just never felt this loved before” I wipe my tears away with my tissue and I sigh as I’ve probably ruined my makeup 

“Well you deserve to and I’ll make sure that you feel loved everyday”

“Really?” I ask taking another bite of my carbonara 

“Yes of course I will”

The both of us finish our meal asking questions about one another, we take glances and smiles at each other every so often 

“I’ve had a great time with you”, I tell him as we exit the restaurant 

“I’m glad that you did” 

We notice that it’s raining outside but thankfully my house is quite close to the restaurant, I notice Dex sighing as he knew that he would have to walk back to his apartment in the rain

“You can stay with me tonight if you want, I wouldn’t want you getting a cold by getting all wet from this rain” I suggest to Dex

“Okay that would be actually great” 

Dex and I reach my house, I fumble with the keys for a few moments but then I find the right key for the front door, 

“I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s okay” Dex tells me, 

“You could share my bed with me” 

I reply with a flirtatious smile and with that, Dex joins me to my bedroom.

We change out of our wet clothes and afterwards we lay beside each other in my bed,

“You know I couldn’t ask for anyone better than you Dex” I speak out and I turn my head to look at him 

“You’re genuinely the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, my heart melts once more after I hear him say this,

I feel so comfortable around Dex so I ask him,

“Usually I wouldn’t ask this after a first date but can I kiss you?” 

I watch his face light up,

“Yeah I’d really like that”

“Oh would you?” 

I tease him while leaning in 

“Yes obviously” I press my lips against his, it feels so right like it was meant to be,

we pull away after a few moments 

“I really enjoyed that” Dex tells me with a cheeky grin,

“I’m glad ‘cause there’s plenty more for you pretty boy” 

And with that, I lay on his chest as we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[bunnyboysrus]

Yan Space Pirate (OC AU)

Ok so this is 110% because I'm currently obsessed with no mans sky, and i havent even gotten around to writing Dex a formal introduction fic but essentially he's a monster hunter, that's (one of) his big secret(s) that's implied in the short piece I dropped.

i have a dozen drafts that I just cannot finish for some reason that i should finish first but i cant sleep until i write about space criminal dex getting up to space crimes. him meeting his darling because his starship gets shot down and he crashes on their home planet and they fjdskhgusihek

i wanted this to be a teensy bit longer but i think maybe ill just make a part two and post this for now. i feel distinctly self conscious posting this as a yandere thing without there being any yandere content in this at all but i swear it'll be in the second part ywy

i'm trying to improve my writing so critiques, suggestions and requests are welcome ♡

Maybe going into a hostile Euclid system without spare shield batteries wasn't the smartest idea after all. Dex was definitely regretting it now that he was spiraling out of control through the burning atmosphere with both of his pulse engines spewing smoke. He took the moment before impact to curse himself internally for letting cockiness get the better of him yet again, exactly the way Roman said he would. He was more bothered by Roman being proven right than by actually getting shot out of space by those nosy ass Sentinels. They wouldn't get mad about him having a ship loaded tip to top with illegal contraband if they didn't randomly scan his cargo without asking, now would they?

There was no more time to be bitter about it though. Despite the steam obscuring everything around him, the result of a superheated rainstorm judging from the planetary temperature reading displayed on one of his few remaining functional screens, he was pretty sure was about to make impact any-

💫💫💫🚀☄️🪐💥

You're awoken by a cacophony of crashing water, ripping metal, and falling trees, your home shaking on its very foundation. Almost as abruptly as it came, the sound stops, and you sit in your bed a moment to calm yourself, nerves scattered from being ripped awake. You had been enjoying a particularly nice sleep too, listening to the peaceful pattering of the boiling rain that was so common on your planet. After a few minutes spent shuffling into the exosuit that would keep you from burning alive outside for at least a little while, you quickly made your way outside to find the source of the noise. Admittedly, this was a bit dangerous but if there was some kind of accident and someone was hurt, they could be killed getting cooked alive if they were trapped outside, so you had to at least see if anyone needed help.

Your home was settled a short way away from a small settlement, not close enough to visit without a short bit of travel, but close enough to visit every day if you so chose. Nestled at the edge of a crater lake, your small but well stocked and fortified base was built with a single-story home unit, a small basement lab and a separate greenhouse that you had lovingly fitted with skylights and tall, floor to ceiling windows. You often wait out the heatstorms in your greenhouse, tending your plants peacefully as the steam and rain rages around your protected little bubble of tranquility.

You turn your head as your visor scans your surroundings through the steam better than your eyes could in all the tumult, soon landing on a crashed starcraft, wedged into the bank of the lake at the bottom of the crater. You hastily skid down the side of the crater, hopping over wreckage and broken tree branches to make your way to the ship. After clambering up the side of the ship to the windscreen, you wince to see that its partially shattered, exposing the pilot inside to the harsh rains. You have to act fast. You pull a compact tarp from one of the pockets of your suit and wrap it around your arm before smashing out more of the screen. After much struggle while carefully avoiding broken glass and sweating buckets inside your exosuit, you manage to wrap the pilot in the tarp, drag him back into your base and lay him out on a sofa.

Looking down at the pilot now without anything to obstruct your vision, he's clearly not from around here. While humanoid like yourself, he is incredibly tall, probably part of what made him so difficult to drag around. His height is added to by the long, ivory horns standing straight on the top of his head, however, one of them has been broken off near the base. Judging from the fresh blood dripping from the stub, it likely snapped off during the crash. The white of his horns contrasts greatly with his inky black curls and dark tanned skin, and after a few moments of observation, pale blue sparks run up their length; you hurriedly put a plastic cover between his head and your very flammable sofa.

You go to run a medical scanner over him but stop short when you see the iron rosary around his neck, sturdy enough to survive a crash from space apparently. You remove it to get it out of the way of your treatment. You quickly realize his injuries aren't immediately life threatening somehow, despite the intensity of the crash, but they are severe. One leg broken in two places, four broken ribs, several deep wounds and too many scrapes and bruises to count on top of the broken horn.

You take a deep breath and start cutting away his suit to get to work.

⛈️⛈️⛈️🔥🔥

Fuck... Everything hurts so much.

Dex floats just on the edge of consciousness, barely breaking through the burningly painful haze covering him head to toe. It hurt to be awake, he just wanted to sink back into blackness but giving in to such moments of weakness would only get him killed.

Suddenly, he feels hands on him, followed by an even sharper pain in his leg where they touch. He tries to open his eyes, to move, anything, only to be hit with a wave of nausea that has him reeling, blood rushing so violently through his ears all he can hear is shrill ringing. He can't see, the lights overhead are doubled and swirling, obscuring everything around him, bright, blinding, confusing. He groans, every movement compounding his pain as he tries to get away from whatever is touching him, panic rising. He can't see or think, the panic is churning into a bitter terror, fear itching like insects up his spine and down his limbs as he thrashes-

"It's okay- you're safe." A voice, soft, worried, kind. The hands move to cup his face and the spinning stops, the nausea recedes; their skin is cool against the feverish burning that covers him, soothing. It takes a moment, but he grows still, occasionally twitching in pain. He tries again to open his eyes, focusing now on the being hovering over him.

"I'm going to help you, just be calm."

The light that had just been so harsh and blinding was now a glorious halo that shone gently around their silhouette, casting most of their face in shadow. He can see their eyes, though, the depths of them are all he can see, glowing just as brightly as the halo around them, filled with a worry that seemed... personal, affectionate. Intimate, even. He stills further, not even aware of his body relaxing against his will. He's startled into confusion once again, but in a different way, rather than panic he's struck motionless by sheer awe.

Beautiful.

This... Was Roman right about angels? Would an angel really come for someone like me..? Am I really deserving of salvation?

Considering everything he'd done, the kind of life he's lived since he lost his sister... He'd never thought it possible. Despite Roman insisting on Dex wearing the rosary he had given him soon after they'd first met, he didn't care to seek God's protection or embrace, in this life or the next. According to that stupid book, he was hellbound, so why waste time praying for salvation that would never come?

"An.. Angel..." The words come out in a daze, spilling straight from his dizzy, muddled head out of his mouth. He could barely even tell if he was actually speaking or if he was hearing things, the darkness at the edge of his vision is creeping further, covering his vision with black again, the ringing in his ears crescendos into a shrill chorus.

This must be how the heavenly gates sound as they screech open to welcome home the blessed, underscored by the singing of cherubs.

He feels at peace.

✩ εꨄ︎з ✩ εꨄ︎з ✩ εꨄ︎з ✩

The pilot stops thrashing and finally goes still and quiet as you lower the syringe. This poor guy, the fear and panic in his eyes had been so real, and intense. Sleeping through the treatment process would be best for him. You spend the next few hours pulling shrapnel from his skin, setting his bones and binding everything securely. Finally, once you're sure you've done everything you can, you sit back with a tall cup of water and finally breathe a sigh of relief. Before you head back to your room to sleep through what remains of the night, you glance out your window to the lake where the crashed ship rests.

What in the galaxy was this guy doing that made him crash?

In the morning, you're awoken by yet another clatter, this time coming from inside your home. You jump out of bed and run to the main room to find the pilot sprawled on the ground in the frame of your front door, several things having been knocked off your table in his journey. You sigh and move closer.

"What are you doing?"

He freezes and slowly turns his head to look up at you. His eyes are a startlingly bright electric blue.

"You really shouldn't be moving yet, you're in worse shape than you probably think you are." You move a step closer to him but he scoots away with a pained wince. You stop and hold your hands up placatingly. "It's okay, I promise I won't hurt you. Why would I bandage you up otherwise, right?"

He seems to consider this for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding stiffly.

"You're right.. 'm sorry for the trouble." He sighs.

You smile lightly and move closer, and this time he doesn't move away when you reach to help him up from the floor and back onto the sofa. He spends a moment adjusting to the least painful position he can manage, looking around the room in a sort of haze. You feel a bit worried looking at his dazed expression, maybe he has a concussion after all... He suddenly fixes his electric gaze on you. You try not to squirm at his intensive attention.

"Er, so, what's your name?" You start. He blinks at the question, thinking.

"Dez... Uh, no.. Dex. Dex for sure." His head tilts to one side, his balance wavering for a moment. "What's your name?"

"It's (y/n)."

"(y/n)..." He repeats it a few times like a mantra before getting distracted with inspecting the room again.

"Can you remember what galaxy we're in? Are you from this system?"

"Hm?" His head droops further to the side, his eyes never leaving yours no matter how far he leans.

You repeat your question.

"Uh... I'm from Adaestria 7...." He scrunches his face. "777-AYK. That's where I'm from."

"Uh-huh, and..?"

"Aaaaand... We're in a red star galaxy." He smirks, clearly proud of himself. He lifts his head, but it droops right back down to the side after a few seconds.

You can't help a small chuckle. It's worrisome, likely indicative of an internal head injury, but it's just a little cute too... A spark runs up his horn at the sound of your laughter and he perks up, grinning dopily.

"Do you remember the name of this galaxy?" You prompt again.

"Zeta Asshole Robots Galaxy." He harumphs, crossing his arms with a scowl, right before the droop finally brings his head down against the side of the couch. "Can't ever min' their business..."

"No, that's definitely not it."

"Hmph, that's what I'm callin' it." He reaches one hand up to scratch at the base of his broken horn, looking shocked when his thumb catches on the broken end. He sits up and feels around it for a bit, looking horrified.

"Ohhhh ssshit... Oh man, that's why I can't see."

"Huh?"

"My horn... It, uhh... When it breaks off I get real fucked up, in the membrane. Insane, in the membrane.." He leans back giggling.

"Can it, grow back?"

"Ohhh yeeaaahh sure sure, 'f course. It jus' takes a few."

"A few...?"

"Weeks." He fixes his hazy eyes on you again, a light, dazed grin fixed on his face. "Is anything else in this galaxy as nice to look at as you two?"

You blanche at the strangeness of the question, which only seems to enthuse him more as he giggles again.

"Two?"

"Oh, is there not supposed to be two of you? Ugh, man.." He leans his head into his hand, sparks popping erratically from the stump of his broken horn. "My head hurts."

"Is there anything I can do? Does anything help while it grows back?" You can't help but put a hand on his shoulder in concern. One of his hands drifts up to cover yours, squeezing lightly.

"If you have, a refiner... You can make a carbon fiber cap." He mutters between his fingers, eyes slipping closed. The goofy confusion is gone, replaced with exhaustion and pain. You nod and move to pull your hand away but he clings to you. For a moment, you think you'll have to pry yourself free, but he lets you go after a long, quiet moment.

You dash down to your lab and after a bit of tinkering, you manage to produce something you deem suitable. Your patient is still slumped over when you return; it looks like he drifted into unconsciousness. You pull on a thick pair of rubber gloves and carefully fix the cap around the broken end of his horn, containing the errant electricity. As soon as it's secure, some of the tension in his face eases.

He opens his eyes again after a moment, visibly more lucid than before. And grumpier. He casts another appraising look around your home, looking distinctly less than impressed, before his eyes land on you once again.

"How long ago did I crash?"

"Oh, about five hours ago. You got caught out in the boiling rains?"

"Boiling rains... A superheated rainstorm?"

"Yeah, that." You plop onto the table next to him, since it's been so conveniently cleared off. "You seem a bit more clear headed now."

"Yes, unfortunately when my horns break it impacts my mental cognition and physical balance. I apologize for any inconvenience I've caused."

"Oh, no it's not really a problem, all you've really taken up is the spare carbon I've got lying around and some bandages." While it's definitely easier to talk to him now, you almost miss the loopy, dazed version of Dex. It was a little adorable.

You both spend some time exchanging questions and answers, now that you can more easily converse. Dex tells you about the recent expedition he'd been on for certain rare materials on another planet in your system, one that you know is perilously radioactive. He admits, with a touch of embarrassment, that he underestimated the equipment he'd need and ended up getting knocked out of hyperspace early and straight into an asteroid belt that knocked out his engines and sent him hurtling to the surface of the nearest planet. He gets very vague when you ask him specifics about the collection job he mentioned, but he does mention collecting plants of some kind. He laments that they've most definitely been destroyed, if not by the crash than definitely by the boiling rains they'd have been exposed to, along with the rest of his cargo.

At this, you excitedly tell him about your own collection of plants and the research you conduct with them. He listens indulgently as you spend more than a few moments regaling him with the fascinating details of your cross pollination experiments and all the exotic and beautiful plants you've grown in your collection. At some points during your ranting, he even cracks the slightest of smiles.

It isn't much longer until he's insisting to go out and see the state of his ship, broken leg be damned.

"You're in no shape to even get near the ship, it's at the bottom of a crater, and the ground down there isn't exactly paved."

"I'll manage." He insists. "Just get me a crutch or something."

You stand firm, arms crossed. "What if I said no?"

His eyes snap to yours, narrowed in challenge. The silence thickens as you stare each other down, before Dex suddenly moves to force himself to his feet, and you rush forward to stop him. It's incredibly distressing to tussle with him like this when you're trying to avoid hurting him further, but his injuries wear him out quickly. He only manages to struggle with you for about a minute before he's laying back on the sofa, jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

"Fine, you win. Just swear to me that you won't go poke around the wreck anymore by yourself. I have a lot of volatile substances on there and their containers have definitely been breached, it wouldn't be safe."

You scoff at the implication that you might be too inexperienced or ill prepared to properly handle dangerous substances, especially coming from the guy that fell out of the sky with said substances, but make the sage decision to not make a fight of it.

"Alright then, I promise not to poke around your ship. As long as you promise not to try to sneak out to it until you're not on the verge of death."

For the first time since he's regained his lucidity, he allows himself to smile broadly as he holds up a hand, pinkie finger extended.

"It's a promise."

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[spaceagebachelormann]

HI BABES YOU ASKED FOR DEX REQUESTS SO HERE I AM

I was thinking Dex with a best friend who is sick and he keeps them company and entertains her with his new gadgets?

Ily <33

SICKLY EXPERIENCE - DEX DIZZNEE

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: keeper of the lost cities

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: long/short fic

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: vomiting, sick reader, blood

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUMMARY: dex takes care of his best friend when they get sick

masterlist || kotlc masterlist || navigation

You? Being sick? Shockingly, it’s quite common.

You woke up yesterday morning with a cough, until you threw up all over your friend, Sophie. In your defence, you thought it was a cough, and it was Keefes fault for punching you in the stomach.

Your friends were not surprised though, once a week, by the least, you weren’t at school because you were suffering from the sniffles or something like that.

But this was the first time you ever threw up. Especially on your friend.

So, now, you were laying on your bed in your pyjamas, occasionally hurling into a bowl placed beside your bed by your mother.

“Y/N?” A voice called to you. You turned around, happiness filling you as you saw your best friend standing in your doorway.

“Dex!” You happily replied, before confusedly adding, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

He gave you a dimpled grin.

“I snuck away.” He laughed at your shocked expression. “But, don’t worry. It’s not the first time i’ve done anything like this. You know what being Sophie’s friend is like.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You agreed, patting the spot beside you on the bed.

He slumped down beside you, reaching up to smooth your hair in the process.

Suddenly, much to your dismay, be began laughing at you.

“By the way, you might want to brush your hair. It looks like the abominable snowman lives up there.”

He laughed even harder when you harshly smacked his leg.

“I take offence to that! You know Keefe influenced me to take very good care of my hair!”

“That rhymes.”

“Shut up.”

Without thinking, you sort of just stared at him for a minute or two while he rambled about something. His periwinkle blue eyes, the way his features started to light up as he spoke, the way his hair looked really easy to mess up at that moment. How hittable-with-a-pillow he looked.

He turned his gaze towards you.

“I know i’m hot, but you don’t have to stare.”

You rolled your eyes as dramatically as you possibly could in your sickly state. And, to annoy him further, you picked up your pillow and smacked him with it. Right in his face.

“Hey!” Dex yelled, in a high pitched voice, which caused his cheeks to flush a very prominent pink, making you laugh.

For the next few minutes, you hit eachother with the pillows, occasionally adding in a sarcastic remark here and there.

After a few minutes of doing that continuously, you both got tired and layed beside eachother on your bed.

“You..” he took a breath, “you hit really hard.”

“Dex.”

“Seriously, you do.”

“Dex.”

“I swear, it feels like that time Biana pushed me down 14 flights of stairs by accident last year. It wasn’t her fault that Keefe and Tam decided to have a fist fight, though.”

“Dex!”

He looked over at you finally.

“I’m gonna-”

You felt the nausea wash over you, and felt something beginning to rise up your throat.

Before you leaned over and threw up into the bowl, you saw his expression go from cockiness and amusement to panic and horror.

He held your hair back and gently rubbed your back as you vomited.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, “it’ll all be over soon, really soon. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Finally, you were able to sit up, coughing and gasping for air. Your back was against his chest, and he gently held you, continuing to tell you everything would be alright.

“Is that… blood?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Hesitantly, Dex looked quickly, then immediately looked away.

“Yeah, I think it is. That’s not good.”

Slowly, you stood up, gently rubbing your temples.

“Well, since your a coward, i’ll go dump this.” You said with a weak and condescending smile.

Before he could argue, you turned around and into your private bathroom, doing exactly what you said.

“Y/N!” Dex ran up to you, swiftly picking you up, and placing you into the bed.

“I’m supposed to helping you through your sickly experience, like I always do and always will. So, sit here and fall asleep, right now.”

“Dex, your not my mom.”

“Shut up, I am today.”

You rolled your eyes at him once more, but internally you felt very grateful when he moved the blankets over your body.

He handed you an elixir, taking off the cap for you.

“Here, drink this.” He said, and when he noticed how suspicious he sounded, he added “it’ll help you get better faster. Sadly, it also means you have to fall asleep right after you drink it.”

“I’ve had that. Can i wait a few moments before I drink it? It tastes worse than Fitz’ cooking.”

Dex sighed and sat down beside you, brushing hair off of your sweaty forehead.

“I want to argue, but honestly your right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Sure.”

You glanced at his bag at the end of your bed, and observed the way it kept beeping for whatever reason.

“What monstrositys have you brought me during this sickly experience of mine?”

Dex looked offended. “They’re not monstrositys! I mean, not always.” He quietly added.

“Anyway, this is a thing that I haven’t named yet.”

You raised a brow at him, indicating he should tell you what it does.

His cheeks flushed with humiliation, and he added, “You’re supposed to wear it around your wrist, like a bracelet. And what it does is sense when your nervous, and vibrate to calm you down. Does it work? We’ll find out once I force Sophie to wear it.”

You laughed, and calmly listened as he continued to show you the things he had created this week.

“And, finally, this is my drinky-drinky machine. It makes the sleeping elixir tastes better so you fall asleep and get better.” He said after a long show and tell, before using the drinky-drinky machine on you with warning.

When he pulled the gadget away, you were coughing.

“It still tastes terrible!” You insulted, glaring at him.

“Just go to sleep.” He laughed, helping you lay down and pulling the blankets over your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Dex.”

“It’s the afternoon.”

“Dex.”

He rolled his eyes, “Goodnight Y/N.”

And then you fell asleep, the last thing you heard was him laughing at you.

[niennandil-me-writes]

Goretober 1: Lacerations

cn: suggestive

Tenderly, the metal ghosts over your skin. You tremble, expecting the worst, and you are right to expect it. His face, split by a wide grin, is hovering over you; his teeth are bared, eyes glazed over, manic. Maybe you are wondering why he doesn’t make a quick job of you, hack you to bloody pieces with that axe of his, now that he has knocked you to the ground, at his mercy. But that is because you don’t yet understand what he gets out of this.

In another life, he might have talked to you, gotten to know you, laughed with you over a glass of whiskey. Not anymore. This is how he gets close to you now, close to your skin and then under it. This is what he wants, what he needs, what he craves.

You gasp and scream and cry and beg and he chuckles, knowing you haven’t felt the worst yet. He takes his time with you. Cuts you open from neck to pelvis, just deep enough to draw blood and to hurt, just a bit. Precise work like this isn’t easy with a greataxe, but it is worth it, and so he holds it steady. He can be gentle if he wants to.

He sets the steel to your skin again, cuts deeper this time, dragging the blade painfully and painfully slowly through your flesh. After inflicting lacerations on your legs and arms and torso like this, he shoulders the axe for a moment, looks down on you, head tilted to the side.

Then one hand reaches down to touch you. You flinch, and he laughs. You can feel his big, scarred fingers brush over your skin. They are tracing the edges of each cut tenderly. His eyes, those mad eyes with different sized pupils, wander over your body and then arrive at your face as he says: “You bleed so beautifully.” Fingers slick with your blood smear symbols of something that might have been affection, a long time ago.

Another plea for mercy gets swallowed up by a scream as he pushes a finger into the cut. He reaches deeper, feels your fading pulse from within. With his other hand, he grips Dex’ haft close to the axe head, so he can keep cutting into you, a bit more clumsily now that he’s holding him one-handed.

He sinks within you, in your blood and screams and pain and death, so he can forget that this isn’t what he truly craves, that he will never truly feel alive again, no matter how many he kills. But right now, it’s enough to just feel this. And he’s glad he can take his time.

Hacking you to pieces would have been a quick fuck. This is a kiss.

[voca-smut-drabbles]

heyyyy i saw you like doing heat stuff. can i get some heat x amab!reader for teto daina and dex? ty!

Aw yea first request is a fuckin banger. I dunno if you wanted a more rut-like thing for Dex or if you wanted me to go for the omega route, but I opted for the latter. Lemme know if you want something different tho! -The Mod

Dex, Daina, and Teto in heat with an amab/dick-having s/o

Teto:

Teto, being a chimera, had always struggled with her feral instincts during that time of the year. Every time it happened she put herself on lockdown, knowing that if she came across you, she'd lose all control over herself, and she didn't want to hurt you. Every year, a different excuse, the flu, an important project, or something else, she always had to say that she was alright and just needed some time alone. She hated it. Snarling to herself as she paced around her room in a feral trance.

Knock knock knock…

Teto froze, her pupils reduced to slits as she stared down her bedroom door.

“...Teto? Are you there?”

Teto wrapped her imp-like tail and wings around herself as she huddled in the corner opposite to her door, panting in a mix of panic and arousal, she needed to stay calm, but the scent of her partner… her mate… no, she needed to make sure you were safe. “Get out… I don't… want to hurt you…”

Click. Creeaaaak… You peered in, and immediately the strong scent of the chimera’s arousal hit you like a truck, and the same went for Teto and your own scent. She looked almost terrified, her breathing becoming more haggard and full of growls as she dug her claws into the ground and averted her gaze, trying to keep herself from attacking you then and there. “Rrrun… g-get away… please…”

Despite her pleas, you simply got closer, crouching down to her level gently grabbing her chin and guiding it so that she looked you in the eyes. “I’m here to help…”

Immediately Teto pounced, throwing you into her nest of pillows and blankets before kissing you passionately, already rubbing herself against your groin with muffled moans of pure desperation.

You quickly removed your clothes before the chimera had a chance to damage them, but you couldn't say the same for her outfit. Teto swiftly ripped off her clothes, only taking a few moments to get your erection up to full mast before lowering herself onto you. “R-Rah! A-Ahn…!”

Every roll of her hips was punctuated by some kind of growl or whimper of arousal, years of pent up frustration finally being lifted from her shoulders as she sunk down onto your shaft with a shuddery growl of satisfaction.

“Rrgh! H-hah! Ngh! Mrrr…!”

Pulling the chimera down for a kiss, the chimera's scent only intoxicating you further as the two of you rutted into each other. That was all it took for the chimera to reach orgasm, her walls clenching around you in a matter that helped you reach your own, and the two of you let out muffled cries into your passionate lip lock before relaxing to catch your breaths. Teto then wrapped her wings around you, holding you close as she trembled, tears streaming down her face and needless apologies tumbling out of her mouth, you embraced her back, shushing her with a comforting tone.

“It's ok, I’m alright, you didn't hurt me, I'm ok…”

Eventually the chimera calmed down, pulling away to look you in the eye before nuzzling you once again, her rumbling purrs an indication that she had fallen asleep, and a lullaby that lulled you into a peaceful slumber of your own…

Daina:

Daina absolutely hated whenever she went into heat, always feeling so pathetic and helpless compared to her normally energetic, fun-loving self. Not even sleep was an escape, her mind plagued with wet dreams of you railing her senseless. Every moment filled with an unmistakable desire and a burning feeling in her folds.

And then you showed up, knocking on her door and asking if she was ok, but just when you went to open it, she beat you to it, greeting you with a bright red face, airplane ears, and many heavy breaths.

“D-Daina?”

“I'm gonna be real with ya, chief. I'm really not ok right now…”

Immediately your expression changed ever so slightly, your worry swapped with sympathy. You stroked the vixen’s cheek, your pity only strengthening as she practically melted into your petting with a shuddery sigh. She practically dragged you to her bed, clumsily trying to tug down your pants as she did. She didn't put up much of a fight when you turned the tables on her, pinning her down and yanking down her denim jeans and boyshort panties in one fell swoop before reaching down to lightly prod at her clit.

“A-Ah! O-Oh fffuck… ooh… please…”

Daina had always been a bit loud at times, but being a fox, she couldn't help but respond to every little dose of pleasure you gave her with a loud, lewd cry, every moan and keen only acting as more encouragement as you gently fingered her. She then stopped you, grabbing your wrist and looking you in the eyes. “M-more… need more… need you…” heeding Daina’s pleas, you remove your clothes, as well as her remaining articles, before turning her onto her hands and knees and penetrating her with a swift thrust. It didn't take long for you to get Daina crying out your name at the top of her lungs, every little thrust caused her to wail in pleasure and curl her tail around your legs in a desperate attempt to keep you going.

“AHN! HAHH! NGH! D-DON’T STOP! I- AH! PLEASE! F-FUCK ME H-HARDER!”

As you emptied yourself into the vixen, she let out one more caterwaul as you painted her walls white before whimpering and shaking with pleasure as you lovingly shushed her, helping the fox slowly but surely calm down from her climax. “Shhh. Good girl. I got you.”

Eventually her quivering cries faded to whimpers before disappearing all together, and she looked back at you, still panting from exhaustion. “Th-thank you…” you smiled and climbed into bed, the last thing you see before drifting to see being the wagging of your girlfriend’s tail…

Dex:

Dex growled and whimpered to himself, tears of desperation streaming down his face as he rutted himself against the soft pillow beneath him. With each and every thrust he only grew more and more desperate, it wasn't enough. He needed someone, anyone, to come and-

“Dex? Are you alright in there?”

The fur on his tail puffed up, no, he wasn’t alright, but you didn't need to know that. Things would probably get all awkward between you, he didn't want that! “D-Don't come in! I-I’m fine, I promise, I- ngh…”

Ignoring the wolf’s pleas to stay out, you gently opened the door, being greeted by the sight of the wolf desperately trying to cover his naked body with a whimper of fear and shame.

“Aww, Dex…” you whispered, eyes full of empathy as you approached him. “Don't worry, I can help you if you want me to.”

Dex merely looked up at you, but the wagging of his tail and the love-drunk look in his eyes said all you needed to hear. Jerking him off with one hand and scissoring him open with the other, you had Dex crying in pleasure within seconds.

“Ngh! Oh god, please! R-Right there!”

After a bit, you pull away, and Dex whimpers from the sudden loss of contact before yelping with surprise as you flip him onto his back, using the pillow he was previously humping to prop up his rear end. Taking only a brief moment to remove your clothes and cover your cock with lube, you enter the wolf, relishing in the tight warmth enveloping you and the moans of pleasure from your partner, every “Faster!”, “More!”, and “H-Harder!” egging you on even more, and as you empty your load into him, he too climaxes, painting his chest white with a loud howl of pleasure.

The two of you lay there for a bit, trying to catch your breaths, but when you try to leave, you're stopped by Dex wrapping his arms around you, giving you the signature puppy dog eyes and whimper combo that never fails at getting you to stay, and the two of you drift off to sleep in each other's embrace…

[amberlynnmurdock]

The Good In You (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter x Reader

Series Summary: She's the new in-house nurse at the FBI headquarters in Manhattan. The only time she ever interacts with the agents is when she's stitching up their wounds. She's gotten to know almost all of them in this way, but there's one agent who's been harder to get to know. The other agents say what they want about Special Agent Poindexter, but she'll never speak negatively of him. Eventually, she does get to know him; she does get to know the good in him. At least for as long as the good lasts.

Genres: fluff, super angst, betrayal, reader wants Dex to be good so bad

A/N: Dex has got to be the most complex character to write lol, but it's so much fun. This idea dawned on me recently and I had to get it out there. I hope you like it! :)

Words: 3.5k

Ao3 Link

It wasn’t often FBI agents needed tending to their wounds because often they could get the job done without a scratch. Still, the FBI headquarters in Manhattan needed a resident nurse for when some agents got banged up, and that nurse was her. 

She liked being a nurse at the FBI—believe it or not, it paid more than her previous job at Metro-General and it was up her alley to be working specifically with the FBI. She hated when her manager at Metro told her she’d yet again be switching departments, meaning she’d have to find a new way to commute to the hospital since it was so large and had different entrances. It was also hard to build a relationship with the patients there since she was often switched because the hospital couldn’t keep its shit together. Why get so attached to tending to the same patient almost every day, just for one day she'd be told she’d never be able to see them again? 

It took a toll on her since she was the type of person to get attached to people she cared about. She may not have known her patients for a long time, but the time she spent with them was precious. These people were sick or injured, and they leaned on her not only to help them, but to have someone to talk to when their family couldn’t make it on any particular day. 

So one day, she asked yourself, what’s the use? What’s the use in getting attached and being taken away so easily? What’s the use in letting the hospital treat her relationships with her patients as disposable? 

When she saw the open position for a nurse at the FBI, she hoped she’d at least be dealing with the same agents now and then. So far, she has. No more switching around—no more connections being cut for no reason. 

Being here almost six months, she’s come to know many of the agents. Many of them had families, some were new to the job—and for some, all they had was this job. Despite the only time she’d see these agents was when they were hurt, she looked forward to catching up with them in her exam room as she stitched up or cleaned their wounds.

Ray Nadeem is one of the agents who has a family. When it was Ray she had to tend to, she knew her time with him would be pleasant. He was—no pun intended—a ray of sunshine. A sweet family man, who truly cared about his job and justice. 

Ray is in her exam room today. Not for anything serious. A bunch of agents responded to a complaint downtown—gang members fighting at a liquor store. Truthfully, not the worst she’s heard them be called for. The FBI normally had everything under control in situations like that. Ray had a few scratches on his face, and he was pushed into an aisle of white wine. She could smell the wine on his jacket. She already checked for broken glass. She was now tending to the cut on his cheekbone. 

“Was it bad?” She asked him. 

Ray shook his head. “Not really. We apprehended them pretty quickly. We had enough agents there.”

“That’s good,” she said, focusing on cleansing the wound. ���Early night at least.”

“Yeah,” Ray sighed, “just in time for me to tuck Sammy into bed.”

Her heart melted at the mention of his son. No amount of cuts on his face could keep Ray from smiling whenever he brought up his son. 

“How is Sammy doing? Is he going to try out for any sports this fall?” She asked. 

“Maybe soccer. He’s more interested in spring sports, like baseball.”

“Ah,” she smiled. “I’ve always found that more fun, too. Spring in general.”

“Yeah,” Ray sighed, again. A sigh she’s come to know as regretful, these past few months getting to know him. “Just wish I was able to surprise him in the spring with the pool he’s been begging for.”

“I’ve only been here a few months, and I know you’re due for a promotion,” she said knowingly. “It’s only September. Anything can happen in the next few months,” a hopeful tone laced in her voice. She didn’t have a license in therapy, but sometimes the agents treated her as such. She didn’t mind, though. 

“I hope so,” Ray said, exasperated. “Thanks, though. For fixing me up,” he pointed to the bandage she just finished putting on his face. “You make me look less scary coming home to Sammy.”

She wanted to laugh, but she stopped herself. It must be hard being an agent, working a daunting job, and coming home to a family like they don’t risk their life every day at work. Instead, she smiles softly at Ray. 

“Thankfully, there wasn’t much to clean up. Just a check-up, I say. Get home safe, Ray.”

“You too,” Ray said, standing up from the exam table. “You going home after this?”

“Hopefully before 10,” she glanced out the window that showed a completely dark sky. One of the perks of working at the FBI, they offered her a service to get her home safely so she didn’t have to worry about going home alone. At night, as a young woman in this city, walking home could be dangerous. 

“Good,” Ray said. “You deserve sleep just as much as we do. Everyone appreciates you being here. I hope you know that.” 

She smiled. “I’m happy to be here.”

“Night, __,” Ray said. “I’ll be sure to tell Sammy you said hi.”

“Please do.”

With one last reassuring nod, Ray left her room. She quickly filled out his file on the computer and checked off the remaining boxes: no head trauma, no serious injuries, no broken bones, no concussion. Just a good old-fashioned cleaning and bandaging. 

A knock on the door brings her out of her focus on the screen. 

“Come in,” she called, not looking to see who it was. By how the door was carefully opened and carefully shut, she felt the person was hesitant in their movements. 

“I’m sorry,” Special Agent Poindexter said. “I can come in when you’re ready.”

She swirled around in her chair to face him immediately. It wasn’t often Dex said much to her, so on the rare occasion he does decide to speak to her, she’s fully paying attention to what he has to say. 

“It’s okay, I was just finishing up,” she stood from her chair. She could see now that his forehead was dripping blood from a cut, and he was attempting to absorb it with the rough paper towels from the bathroom. This indicates why he opened the door to come in—he needed help now. “I’m sorry, Dex. Please sit.”

While she quickly washed her hands, Dex awkwardly shuffled to the exam table and propped himself up on it, holding the paper towel to his forehead. He’s covering half his face and his gaze is away from her, like it always was when it was his turn to be tended to. His dirty blonde hair was pushed to the side. The veins on his hand were prominent. 

“May I?” She asked him first, indicating she wanted to take away the paper towel to begin cleaning his wounds. He only offers her a small nod. 

Dex was hard to figure out—he wasn't like the other agents she’s tended to. He was quiet. Stoic. He wasn’t rude, but he also didn’t go out of his way to make conversation. That was fine by her. She never wanted anyone in her exam room to be uncomfortable or pressured to talk—these agents worked a hard enough job already. They can’t always be at 100% all the time. She just could never tell if Dex was or not. She chalked it up to him being super serious about work. He’s in, and then he’s out. Sometimes, she's tried for conversation, but it was always hit or miss. 

“This may sting,” she says gently. It’s something she says all the time to him, just to fill the silence between them. He faintly nods. His gaze stays away from her. She gently presses the alcohol-absorbed cotton pad over his wound. Ever so slightly his jaw clenches at the contact and he takes a small intake of breath. He shuts his eyes until the sting goes away. 

“I’m sorry,” she dabs on it again. “Just one more. It’s a deep cut.”

“It’s alright,” Dex reassures her. “You can do what you need to.”

Maybe it was a good thing Dex didn’t talk to her so much when he was here—his voice was deep, a hint of a New York accent. And his speaking so closely to her made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. Now it was her turn to keep quiet. 

She dabbed at his wounds until the bleeding stopped. She grabbed fresh bandages and patched them up. 

“I have to ask you some questions,” she said carefully, feeling nervous for some reason. Dex had his full attention on her now, his gaze no longer hidden. An unreadable expression on his face. 

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Does your body hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Is your vision blurred?”

“No.”

“Alright,” she nodded. “Otherwise, was tonight an okay night?”

Dex shifted on the exam table. “Yeah, it was fine. Easier than most.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Well, if nothing else hurts, then you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, __,” Dex says, and she realizes it's the first time he’s spoken her name. For a while there, she wondered if he ever cared to remember it. Maybe he was the type to have to warm up to someone first before he started a working relationship. That's alright—in a lot of ways, she was the same. “I appreciate it.”

And there it was again—another sentence from the agent she thought didn’t like her for the longest time. Sometimes the agents spoke of Dex in passing to her—saying the job went smoothly, save for Dex who was always too willing to go the extra mile when he didn’t need to. She never engaged in negative talk about him or anyone at the Bureau. She respected all their work. Everyone handles this job differently. Dex handles it in his way: by keeping to himself and keeping the conversation at a minimum. 

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. Dex offered a hint of a smile as he got up from the exam table. 

“Guess you can go home now?” Dex asks. He’s standing close to her as she crosses her arms, in an attempt to not appear nervous by the way he's looking at her. She's delighted at the attempts at conversation he’s finally making. 

“Yeah, you were the last agent I needed to see.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you,” he says, brows furrowed. 

“Don't be sorry. It’s my job,” she reasoned. “I like being here when I’m needed.”

Dex sighs; he looks tired. Despite his tiredness, she couldn’t deny how handsome he looked, even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. 

“Night, Dex. Get home safe.”

“You too.” 

***

Another night of tending to wounded FBI agents. This time, the wounds weren’t as simple. Some of them got really banged up—stitches were required this time. She was hyper-focused on the stitching she had to do on Ray on his left shoulder. He had his sleeve hanging off his shoulder and sat stiffly on the exam table, holding his breath at every movement. 

“Not a good night, huh?” She asked. 

“No,” Ray shook his head. “Not the worst, but I’ve had better.”

“Good thing the bullet was just a graze,” she reasoned, finishing up the last of his stitching. “Alright. You need to take it easy with that arm this weekend.”

“Will do,” Ray nodded. “Good thing I can hide this from Sammy with long sleeves. I hate to see him worrying about me.”

“I know,” she sighed. She got up to take off her gloves and wash her hands. She undid her hair in her claw clip and brushed it before twisting it up again. “It must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ray shook his head. “Part of the job. Anyways, got any fun plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” she leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Catching up on sleep, probably.” It was already nearly midnight at the Bureau. “You?”

“Taking Sammy to the zoo with his friends,” Ray said. “Should be fun.”

“It will be. I’ll see you Monday, Ray.”

Ray slides his jacket on and exits her exam room. She washes your hands again before preparing for the next—and final—agent she has to stitch up. Of course, it was Dex. He was always the last to be seen. Of all the agents, he managed to always get hurt the least. 

Dex is waiting patiently on the chair outside her exam room, anticipating his turn to see her. He enjoyed being around her because he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone—didn’t have to pretend the job was hard. All these men and women around him had families to come home to, or they had someone waiting at home for them. That’s what made it hard for them. Dex didn’t have anyone. That’s what made it so easy. 

And his fellow agents could never understand his nonchalantness about it all. He didn’t care. That was on them. He only got checked out by her because he had to—it was a requirement that all agents see the nurse before heading home after a task. Truthfully, he didn’t need to see her. Perhaps he just wanted to. 

“Dex?” She calls his name, pulling him from his thoughts. Dex is slouched in the chair, but he perks up when he hears her say his name. She leaves the door open and he closes it behind him when he enters her exam room. 

Her hair is up—he often wondered what it would look like if it were down. He's never seen her look casual before. Always in scrubs, always hair pushed back. Her scrubs were dark navy blue to match his FBI jacket, with a small FBI logo near her left shoulder. A piece of her hair falls to the front of her face, slightly framing it. He doesn’t blush, but he thinks she looks pretty. Really pretty. And tired, just like him. 

Dex takes his seat naturally on the exam table. She grabs her stethoscope and raises her hands to touch his face, but stops. 

“May I?” She asks, like she always did. Dex nods and looks away from her gaze. It was easier to get through these visits if he wasn’t looking at her. He feels her fingertips gently hold his face to get a better look at his wounds that don’t hurt that much. 

“Well, they’re not bad. Not bad at all,” she says, unsure if she is saying it out loud for herself or for him to know as well. He didn’t care if he was hurt. “Definitely will need cleaning though. But let me make sure your heart is all good and your head is fine.”

“It’s fine,” Dex reassures her, but he knows it’s no use. 

“I still have to check,” she gives a small smile. He nods in understanding. She places the stethoscope on his back and asks him to breathe deeply three times, which he does. Everything sounds good, she says. She then places her fingers on his head, searching for any bumps or bruises. He closes his eyes at this—truthfully, if he had a favorite part, this was it. For a moment, the thoughts that swarmed in his head were quieted when he felt her fingers trace over his head. It was hypnotizing almost, a trance he never wanted to snap out of. 

And when her hands disappeared, he was brought to reality. 

“All good,” she says softly. “I’ll clean up your wounds and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“You don’t have to rush,” Dex tells her. “I don’t need to be anywhere.”

“On a Friday night?” She questions with a smile as she cleans her hands at the sink. He knows she’s being nice, but truthfully he didn’t have anywhere to be. Just home. If he could even call it that. 

“Yeah,” he laughs half-heartedly, an attempt to match her attitude. “Got no plans for Friday.”

“Same here,” she sighs as she puts on the periwinkle-colored gloves. “My plans are sleep and more sleep.”

This time Dex laughs—really laughs—because he agrees. He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, despite how tired all the time he feels. “I get that,” Dex nods. He relaxes a little bit more on the exam table. 

She dabs the cotton pad in alcohol and lets it dry before she places it on his wounds. There’s a cut on his forehead, right cheekbone and a little wound on his jawline. She opens her mouth to speak, but Dex cuts her off. 

“I know it’ll sting,” he says gently. “It’s fine.” 

She smiles sheepishly, “I do give that warning a lot, huh?”

“It’s alright,” Dex shrugs. “It’s nice to be warned of pain before it happens. That’s not always the case.”

“How—“ she begins, furrowing her eyebrows. Contemplating the wording of her question. “How do you brace yourself? For all this? This job?” 

Dex sighs. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, because he truthfully didn’t have an answer. Most agents would probably chalk it up to it being part of the job, but it wasn’t that simple for Dex. It… was just a job. If he got hurt, he got hurt. There was nothing else to it. No one would be upset if he got hurt—no one would cry for him. 

Plus, the other part of it, despite it sounding cocky… it was rare Dex ever got hurt in the line of battle. He was a sniper—he was part of the SWAT unit. He was the one who did the hurting. He was the one who used lethal force. It was rare he ever missed. 

“Mindset is everything,” Dex says anyway. “I know what I have to do. I have a job to do.”

“That makes sense,” she says, believing him. “I mean, if it makes you or any of the agents feel better, despite this being my job��it doesn’t make it any easier seeing you guys hurt like this.”

“It doesn’t?” Dex questions. 

“Of course not,” she said. “I’ve… gotten to know a lot of you over the past few months being here. A lot of these agents have families. A wife or husband to come home to. They open up about that a lot. There are other ways to be hurt than just having physical wounds.”

Dex takes in what she’s saying. He swallows hard. 

“It’s just me,” Dex tells her. “I’ve only got me to worry about me. That’s why it’s easier for me to come in and do what I need to do.” 

As she listens to him say this, a thought pings in her head. She noticed on the file she has on him that he didn’t have any relatives listed as an emergency contact. Ray had his wife, Hattley her husband—all the other agents had someone listed. But Dex had no one listed as an emergency contact. She knew he wasn’t being sheepish when he said he was all he had—it was the truth. Sad, but true. 

She doesn’t say anything in return. She continues to clean his wounds and bandage him up in silence—comfortable silence, for once. Dex’s eyes remain looking at the floor as she works her fingers around his temple. She gently lifts his chin with her fingers to get a better angle at the cut on his jaw—his jawline that appears to have been sculpted by the Gods. Being this close to him, she got a whiff of the faint smell of his cologne, now mixed with the smell of sweat. With one last check on his face, she tells him she’s done. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asks him, leaning against the counter and facing him. 

Dex rises from the exam table and circles his shoulder to stretch. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright well,” she sighs, feeling somewhat shy by the way he’s looking at her, giving her his full attention. “Get home safe, Dex.”

“You, too, __,” Dex breathes out. “And thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough.”

“It’s alright—no need.”

With a small smile, Dex is almost on his way out of her exam room—until he hears her call his name under her breath. 

“Dex,” she says, hesitant with her words. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re not all you have. You’re not alone. You’ve got me now to be worried about you,” she tells him, offering a genuine smile. 

Dex looks away from her, stumped by her words. Regardless if she really meant it or not—it was nice for him to hear. Nice to know that he could be wrong about something he’s always firmly believed. 

He doesn’t say anything in return. He holds her gaze for a few moments, holds her smile, and puts it to his memory. He smiles back. And then he leaves. Maybe he would get some good sleep tonight, knowing someone worried about him. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐈𝐍-𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 (𝐃𝐄𝐗) 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐚��𝐤 ♡

summary - the apocalypse strikes out of nowhere while you are shopping, thankfully there's a good-looking man that rescues you and makes you fall for him in a short amount of time.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[takenbypeter]

pllss do more dex fics! ur the only one who writes for him, i don’t know if you have any more prompts but i love ur work

Contagious

Ben Poindexter x reader

Words: 773

Author’s note: hey hey! Ask and ye shall receive! I had this fic in the drafts and totally forgot about it and it’s fitting since I am currently sick 😷 but I do have another prompt list coming out soon and if anything feel free to send me a prompt of your own, it doesn’t ave to be one of mine. But yeah thanks for requesting!!! Love you!

You hated sick days. From the coughs and sore throat to the stuffy nose and weak limbs, you hated it all. The one good thing that could come from sick days was the sleep. After waking up with a massive cold and calling out from work, you conked out on your bed eventually waking up at four in the afternoon.

Well actually it was more like your brain was awake but your body refused to follow. But then you heard a noise coming from outside your bedroom. Slight confusion and fear suddenly built up in your chest at the thought of someone having broken in, you poked your head out from under your covers too tired to move and tilted your head to hear better. Even with a throbbing head your thoughts got confirmed and you immediately grabbed your phone.

The first thing you noticed were all the notifications from Dex. Figuring it’d be best to call him you hit the dial button and waited. It was only a mere second before you heard his ringtone that he had for you coming from the kitchen. Letting out a breath of relief you relaxed once he answered

“What are you doing here?” You asked without missing a beat but tone still light at the sight of your boyfriend in the other room.

Your body is planted on your bed refusing to get up.

Dex's voice comes through clear, “morning, sunshine.”

From behind the door Dex stood at the counter, a frying pan held between his hands with an egg sizzling on the pan. “I messaged you a bunch and when you didn’t respond I got worried. So I came here and found you knocked out on the bed,” he added with a smile growing a little at that last part no doubt recalling the sight.

“I…” you paused, building suspense before finishing the sentence, “can’t think right now,” you exclaimed before your eyes closed and you facepalmed yourself trying to wake up but your legs still refused to get up.

When you were sick, who knew what you were going to say or do next it was completely idiotic.

“Mmm, that smells really good, but you know what I want right now?”

Dex waited until you answered your own question.

“A cheeseburger.”

“A cheeseburger? You can’t have a cheeseburger right now.”

Clearly discontent with that you pressed your lips together, mumbling, “you’re a cheeseburger.”

Dex laughed from his spot, “no, you're a cheeseburger, I’m a double cheeseburger.”

Grinning from your spot you opened your eyes, “whatcha doin?” You asked still on your end of the phone.

“Just making food for my sick girlfriend.”

You took a moment to take in the sweetness that was behind the thought.

“Just toast and eggs,” he put it out on a plate and hung up on you.

Gasping at the rudeness of the action you’re offense didn't last too long as a knock on your door interrupted your train of thought, “coming in.”

The door handle turned before it opened and you shouted out, “no wait!” Followed by a, “don’t come in,” as he stood at the doorway.

“Come on, eat it while it’s hot.”

Oh god, he was going to come into your sick infested room, get all your germs. Plus you looked like fresh garbage and you seriously didn’t know what was going to come out of your mouth next.

“No thanks, I'm not really hungry.” Which was the truth.

Dex shrugged leaving the room and you hear some dishes assuming he’d put the meal in the fridge before he returned once again.

“Don’t come closer!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you getting sick. Dex I love you but I’m contagious. Probably.”

“Oh come on. I don’t care about getting sick.”

“Well I do.”

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked and it was at that moment that you realized you were rubbing your arms, already used to the goosebumps that were on them.

“Okay, just if you get sick it’s on you.”

He steps closer to your bed lifting the two covers off. And for a moment you feel a chill run up and down your spine before it’s gone as his warmth fills up the cold space. His chin placed itself on top of your head pulling you close into his arms.

You immediately hated how right he was about this. The whole, his warmth mixing with your warmth. How good it felt to finally be warm.

You opened your mouth to say something but instead of a logical sentence, what came out was, “would you consider yourself a Cheeto, Cheese Puff, or Cheese ball?”

“Cheeto.”

[inknopewetrust]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

Summary: In the volatile nature of tornado hunting, you crossed paths with Scott on more than one occasion–each time resulting in a piece of yourself being left behind with the man larger than the storms you chased. [Scott x Fem!Reader; Twisters] [wc: 15.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, pinv, oral (f receiving), angsty-romance, Scott is… a complicated asshole who reader can totally fix… right? Right!?

Quick Links: Masterlist

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones. Not the whirring of a drone or the rumbles of thunder—the fast, blistering speed of tires rolling toward the funnel that made your heart beat twice as fast as it did before.

It was tornado season after all… it never surprised you.

The skies of Oklahoma rose into a gloomy beige on a Friday afternoon. Heat lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. It was dense outside of the small gas station that sat alongside the fork in the road.

Everyone could smell it: the anticipation of a storm. They broke earlier every year and this season appeared to be no different at first glance. The radios were filled with the familiar constant chatter, the computer screens you shared with Dexter in the lot were running the same radar’s the morning predicted.

Not everyday was as exciting as the next, however.

“Shit,” Dexter mumbled, running a hand over his eyes in frustration as the storms weren’t breaking that evening. His glasses perched on his fingers before he brought his hand back down to his computer.

It was just rain. In an era of record tornados, tonight would be quiet sans the few sparks of lightning and the thunder that followed.

“Nothin’” he flicked the laptop screen closed before him, knocking you on the shoulder as your own screen took all your attention.

Your eyes were entranced by the Doppler's movements. The back and forth of the projections coming and going in shades of green and yellow but no red. No purples or the darkest blues to send the lot of you running toward danger.

Dexter bumped you again with a focused effort.

“What?” You mumbled, clicking the refresh button on the radar’s program. Nothing changed.

“I think we’re done for the day.”

“It’s like six-thirty, Dex” you shrugged, turning to face him with a squint as the half-set sun was in your line of vision. “Somethin’ might pop up.”

“Omega says not,” he put a finger on his closed computer. “It dissipates before it can get out of bed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed as he did before. “Shit.”

Breathing in deeply, you could still smell it. Those storms were on the horizon and just waiting for the perfect moment to grow but you all have waited around these parts of Oklahoma begging for something that was not going to appear a hundred times.

Today was just one of those days.

You shut your own computer with the thud. Rolling your shoulders, Dexter clapped a hand on your back and chuckled at the prospect of another day without a tornado.

“Tomorrow’s chances are just as good,” he reassured.

“I know,” you nodded. The buzzing of Lily’s drone overhead swished by slowly as it came to land.

“Why don’t you go tell ‘em and I’ll clean up before we move out, hm? Get dinner and relax.”

Dexter didn’t allow the chance for you to argue back and made for the computers immediately. You groaned, standing up from the milk crate Boone scoured from the side of the road for “portable seating.” They were a bitch to your back and after sitting and watching the screen for what felt like hours, your body was screaming for help.

You stretched your arms high above your shoulders to rest them interlocked on your head and closed your eyes.

Maybe it was a sign. No storms, good sleep, and a hot meal from a wayside diner in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It was comfort, it was home and it was a relief for an instant that the skies were tame. No one would die from nature tonight in the vicinity of your chasing—an adjustment from the last month.

So you envisioned in your closed eyes the peace the evening would bring. How the sheets of the motel’s bed would feel against your legs; the sound of air conditioning fanning and sending you into a deep slumber.

The imagination of an evening molded into scenes under your eyelids.

Like the thunder everyone wished to hear, you could practically feel the rumblings of his fingertips as you imagined them on your skin. A lingering hope of days gone by without seeing him and his team of assholes started to stir in your mind every time it had a second to not think of the weather.

You hated the way it made you feel.

Like a goddamn school girl who couldn’t control a crush but it was more than that. It wasn’t a fatal fantasy you’d imagined every time your paths crossed but one cemented in your memory to hold you off until the next time he caught you in the same place.

And you saw him in your idea of a decent night.

In the distance, Dani and Lily called your name from outside of the RV. You cracked an eye open to see the two of them waving, pointing toward the diner attached to the station.

Your arms fell, turning to Dexter who passed it off.

“Go,” he shook his head, “I’ll join you when I’m done.”

You’d be lying if the sound of food didn’t sound wonderful that very second. The day had been nothing but driving and sitting. Every bit of food was junk besides the apple Boone threw your way at noon. He had been the first one to run into the diner an hour before with Tyler hot on his tail.

They were gluttons for greasy homemade meals.

“Come on!” Dani yelled as she held open the door and you broke off from Dexter to join the two for dinner.

The diner was like any other hole in the wall establishment in middle America. Sparse hangings on the wall, chairs and booths made from cheap leather that had burns and slashes through them, and menus that haven’t been updated for twenty years.

They were the best places. They were what made the small towns in between the big ones staples. No one could pinpoint this town on a map but the second the tea is sipped and the spuds are downed, it’s something you couldn’t forget.

“We’re gonna shack up in Perry tonight,” Dani spoke with her mouth half full. “‘Bout a half hour from here.”

“Tyler alright with that?” Lily asked, glancing out the diner window. “I thought he wanted to stay ahead of them?”

Them.

You sipped on your iced tea casually.

“We will be heading in that direction anyway.”

“Ain’t there a lake down in Perry?” Lily inquired, racking her mind in hopes she could remember. Dani nodded and picked up her own glass.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “And I do plan on jumpin’ in it before we leave tomorrow.”

Lily smiled as she turned her attention to you. She wasn’t oblivious to your absence from the conversation. You were quiet and reserved. Maybe it was that time of the month or you had a bad day—but it was strange and she furrowed her brows, kicking at your foot with hers from under the table.

“Don’t got anything to say?” She asked, causing Dani to look over the glass at you.

“No,” you dismissed. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“I’ve got Advil if you need it,” Lily went to dig in her bag but you stopped her.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “Really. Just feels like a long day is all. Finding nothin' is frustrating and this heat..."

“I get you,” Dani scoffed and put her cup down. “This heat is awful. I think Boone’s music is starting to get to me.”

You laughed knowingly. “It’s better than listening to him scream into the camera for twenty minutes."

The two snickered at the thought. Anything was better than the sound of his screeching. You pushed around the remnants of your meal around your plate when the waitress came back to fill up the glasses, leaving the check. A chorus of 'thank you's' were followed by the bell ringing above the diner's rickety door.

"Oh Lord," Lily muttered and went back to looking out the window. She crossed her arms like a pouting child. Out the window, Boone was yelling inaudible jests at the white shirts making their way into the establishment.

"What?" You asked her, turning over in your seat to see the crew of Storm Par filing in one by one.

In their uniforms of slacks and white shirts, they gave their most polite smiles to the staff that ate out of the palms of their hands. Dani let out a groan of frustration. Rich men, educated men. Men.

"Just the fraternity, Doc," Dani replied as though your eyes couldn't see that. You shot her a judgmental scowl before glancing at the group again.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

It was the PhD in physics that earned you the affectionate, but infuriating title.

"Eh," Dani popped a piece of ice between her teeth. "You ain't like them though. They're all assholes and you're only an asshole when we can't get the signal to work and you wanna watch Love Island."

You laughed, chucking your napkin across the table which she dodged gracefully.

"Don't act like you're not obsessed with it too," Dani narrowed her eyes in faux offense.

The check at the end of the table blew in the wind generated by a few of Storm Par's team walking past. None of them spared a glance in the direction of the three of you. Out of spite or hatred, you wouldn't know but it was always the same way with most of them. It wasn't unwarranted, however. Your squad from Arkansas were known to give them as much grief as they gave you all.

You reached out to slap the check back down on the table. A glance up toward the retreating Storm Par members told you that their leaders hadn't joined the bunch at the table. You hadn't seen him enter the diner when you looked before.

But you knew the second the bell rang above the door again that it was him and likely Javi beside him. You could feel it in the air just as you did the storms. Everything shifted. The pace of your heart, the rigidness of your back, and you had done all you could in your power to keep it as quiet as possible.

You painted yourself a fake in front of the friends you adored because of Scott. He didn't ask you to, yet there was nothing more solid than agreeing to never speak of what you'd do for a second alone with him.

And you weren't sure what they'd say if they knew you were sleeping with the enemy.

With the check in your hands, you grabbed your bag from the seat and dismissed Lily and Dani's movements to split the check.

"I've got this one," you assured them. "My treat."

Lily protested and continued to shuffle through her bag. "At least lemme get the tip. How much?" Her wallet was filled with receipts and loose change.

"No," you shook your head. "Go on to the truck and I'll pay and we can head out."

Dani crunched the ice loudly. "You sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, giving them both a smile that could have read tense. You didn't mean it to be but it did. "Go on," you tipped your head. “Dex didn’t eat so I’ll order and run out when it’s ready.”

Dani eyed you as Lily put away her wallet. "I don't want to leave you alone with them in here," she knocked her head in the direction of Scott and Javi who settled along the lunch counter beside the register.

Dani watched them carefully whenever it was only the three of you. She trusted the men on your team like brothers but the others, Storm Par or any of the other groups that followed in the same direction, she held at a distance. Not only had they been somewhat competitors in the field, they were jerks and Dani could not help but be repulsed by it.

Scott looked in the direction of the small booth you all sat in, making contact with Dani's harsh stare. His face was blank—as Dani had come to realize was its factory setting. He was stoic, a wooden board of a man who was a head taller than his companion even as they sat. Dani always thought he looked miserable.

In her eyes, he was generically handsome with dimples on the sides of his cheeks. She saw other storm chasers give him eyes but he never entertained it. He was boring, a dud.

Not one person could make that man crack a smile or have an ounce of joy weep from him—but she supposed it was perfect for the work they conducted.

"I can handle myself, Dani–besides, there are other people in here."

She shook her head, souring her face. "You know I don't like 'em."

"Neither do I," you laughed. Liar. "I got this. It’s okay."

Dani trusted your word and exited the diner with Lily while you made your way to the register.

Scott had taken his baseball cap off his head, sliding it into the back pocket of his pants and pushing his sunglasses into his hair. Javi made niceties with the same waitress that had assisted you upon your approach. You saddled up to lean on the counter in the empty space between Scott and the register that broke apart the counter from the other patrons. It wasn't crowded as a restaurant in the middle of a city would be. It was filed with locals that made it feel welcoming.

"I'll be with you in one second, ma'am," the woman who served, in a name-tag labeled 'Kathy', called over to you as she jotted down Javi's order.

You took the bag from your shoulder to place it on the counter in front of you. The base of it brushed Scott's shoulder, nudging him purposefully.

"Sorry," you said quietly as Javi finished up beside him. Scott looked over at you–his stormy blues baring into you and sending you into a spiral of blind faith.

“Not out wrangling tornados tonight?” He questioned in a condescending tone. His brow quirked in a challenge: play along. You could never be civil in public.

“Maybe if you were good at reading radar you’d know that already.”

He scoffed. “Wh—“

“And for you sir?” Kathy, the waitress, cut him off with a tap of her pen. Javi stifled a laugh as Scott faced her with a half-baked expression of annoyance. You turned to thumbing through your bag for your wallet.

“Ah,” Scott stuttered as he looked over the menu. “A coffee—“

“Cream or Sugar?” Kathy drawled. She must have been in her sixties but she was giving Scott the best impression of a flirt at the moment.

“Black, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

Javi turned his head away from Scott to chuckle like a little boy. You smiled to yourself as the contents of your bag were suddenly so very interesting.

“And a… turkey sandwich with fries.”

Kathy gave Scott a cheeky, wide smile with painted red lips. The thinning drugstore paint was wearing thin beyond the lining and her hay bale, yellow as corn hair was doing nothing for her.

“That’ll be right up for you boys, okay?” She gave them a wink and tore the order from her pad. “Don’t forget to order somethin’ sweet before you go—on the house.”

Kathy walked away with a sway of her hips which only worsened Javi’s laughter. The laughs spilled from his mouth without remorse as his friend tried to not turn an ugly shade of red.

“Holy,” Javi dragged out the syllables in exasperation. “You got yourself a cougar, Scott!”

You slipped your wallet to the side of your bag and looked upright waiting for her return.

“I didn’t know Mr. Storm Par had it in him,” you said, which drove Javi even deeper in laughter. Scott sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’ll give a napkin with a lipstick kiss… just watch.”

“Ooh man,” Javi crooned. “I ain’t missin’ that!” He got up from his stool.

“See you out there,” Javi said your name kindly—a rarity in these parts. He surely didn’t know about you and Scott but he treated you decently all the same.

He rushed off to the small hallway labeled ‘bathroom’. Small mercies for a second alone.

“Did you have to say that?” Scott commented the moment Javi was out of an earshot. He turned back to look at you so you turned to look at him with your hip digging into the counter. His legs spread wide as if to accommodate you.

“It was too good not to,” you admitted with a grin. “The old ladies love you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, gazing at your face as his eyes darted to take you in. They trailed from your eyes to lips to chin to chest to… everywhere.

“It’s been a minute.”

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

“You been counting?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—“

“I was joking,” he clarified with a sly, cunning smirk.

“Ha,” you panned. “You should think about going into another career after this. I hear they’re looking for comedians.”

“Maybe I will,” he suggested. “I can mention the skeleton that tried to get with me in a diner. Though,” he thought on it, “her lipstick might find me in nightmares so probably not.”

You laughed and he smiled—also a rarity in these parts.

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

“Perry for the night. Headin’ in that direction afterwards.”

Scott hummed, tapping one of his hands on the counter as the other rested on his knee. Your eyes moved down his body in the same way he did yours.

“You?” You asked him.

“I think we’ll be makin’ our way there too.”

“Hm,” you thrummed. Kathy caught your vision as she gathered Javi’s glass and Scott’s mug in her hands. “Then I should be expecting you?”

Scott nodded his head. “Motel?”

“Right off the highway. Easy on and off.”

Scott made a noise of agreement. Kathy placed their beverages in front of them with a sweet smile. Scott glanced at the mug but returned his attention to you which she frowned at—you found it amusing. There couldn’t have been many attractive men waltzing through the diner on a weekly basis. Scott was a treat.

“Anything I can get you, hun?”

Scott shook his head. Kathy held out her hand for you to hand over the check. She wasn’t as wordy with you.

You glanced over his shoulder to the table of his crew in the back who were minding their own business. Javi had to return and put the window, your team of misfits were packing up the vehicles.

You took a chance and lifted a hand to his shirt’s collar. Taking the fabric between your fingertips, you putzed as he looked at you with a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach do summersaults.

It’s the kind of look that made your heart sink when he was so rude on the road.

“Text me when you get there, okay?” You asked him. You adjusted his collar before dropping your hand at the sight of Javi leaving the restroom.

Scott caught your eyes change and turned back around in his seat.

Kathy laid the receipt for you to sign on the counter with a bang.

“Sign, please.”

You were quick to sign and exit the space before Javi could even sit down, forgetting Dexter's order. Kathy took the receipt and while stapling it to the order, she tipped her head in the direction of you.

“She’s pretty,” was all Kathy said and left as Javi returned.

“Did she give you her number?” Javi prompted Scott who passed a confused face to his friend.

“What?”

“The waitress,” Javi chuckled. “You get ‘er number or what?”

Scott closed his eyes and swallowed the nerves that built rapidly. He thought Javi was talking about you. He may have been an ace at MIT and a dependable guy on the battlefield, but Scott nearly jumped out of the diner at the thought of Javi or anyone else finding out about his escapades with you.

It was a good secret. A great one, if he let himself think about it too long. But he’d be damned to throw everything away for the sake of a lay in the middle of Oklahoma.

And if he told himself that enough, he’d fathomed he would start believing it.

The motel was what you had dreamed about.

Soft sheets, working air conditioning, and a lovely continental breakfast in the mornings with boxes of cereal and packaged muffins. It wasn’t a five-star resort but they did the job. It was perfectly imperfect for what you were used to on the daily.

It was so much better than the floor of the RV and so unusual for the types of places Dani and Lily often chose.

When you arrived at the motel, Scott was receiving a napkin with a kiss and a number on it that went straight in the trash. Javi kept rolling with laughter and for the time being, it was something he would not live down.

But both of your minds were preoccupied with what would hold true as the sun finally set on that day.

Just like the storms, you weren’t sure where this ended or it began. You had established a routine without realizing it was happening and this game of chances was slowly evolving into a feeling difficult to hold on to.

Maybe it was everything in between the nights that made it more difficult than it needed to be.

You ached for them nonetheless.

The jolt of anticipation hit you about an hour after arriving. Showered and clean, you sat around while the news played lifelessly in the background waiting for your phone to ding but it never did. It sat there mocking you every minute that passed.

Seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours that turned into two.

You half thought about going to bed before a knock sounded at your door. Neglecting to view the visitor through the peephole, you were taken aback by the entrance.

Scott made quick work of pushing you backwards and shutting the door closed with a thud. A backpack landed in the space between the door and chair. His hands were on you immediately, immodestly cupping your face and the back of your head with a force as he kissed you—hard.

You wrapped your arms around his forearms in support of your uneasy feet. A thrill ran down your spine at the feel of his hands on you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled between frantic kisses that took your breath away. “They,” kiss, “wouldn’t,” kiss, “stop fucking talking.”

You ran your hands down his forearms gently. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. Ignoring your doubts would manifest itself another day.

Scott nodded, his nose knocking yours before leaning back in and kissing you slowly. His mouth captured your lips softly, gently as if there was no worry of time at all. His hands trailed themselves along the sides of your neck, to your shoulders, letting yours fall from his arms in the process.

You tilted your head upwards at an angle to open up to him. His mouth moved unhurried as the sound of your heart rushed to your ears.

He broke the kiss at the feel of your hands inching toward the buckle of his jeans.

“Woah,” he chuckled lowly but didn’t pull away and didn’t tell you no. “I don’t think my old lady would appreciate you havin’ your hands all over me.”

He let you lift the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants. At a quick pace you undid the buttons.

“She was tellin’ me all about this great peach pie,” Scott kept on and on as he peppered kisses on your face. “And then,” he whispered and shrugged off his shirt. “Then she left me this nice farewell note with a kiss on it.”

Your hands stilled on his abdomen. Head pulling away rapidly with glittering amusement in your eyes, you scoffed.

“No shit… really?”

“Oh yes, really,” Scott confirmed. He stepped away from you and stripped himself of the undershirt he had on. He moved over to the bed to work on his shoes.

“Can’t go to that diner again I gather.”

Scott smiled which made his dimples stand out. He looked tired but present, and that was all you could ask for at that moment.

“Not unless I want to be scorned for never callin’ her back.”

“Eh,” you picked up the remote on the bedside table and turned up the sound. “Give it ten years.”

Scott looked over his shoulder at you as a boot dropped on the floor.

“That’s brutal.”

“Well,” you said, dropping onto the duvet. “What can I say?”

You crawled over to him and got on your knees behind him. Scott leaned his head backwards against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. You could smell the earth in his hair. The darkness of it couldn’t shield the way a day's work remained.

Underneath your fingertips his shoulders eased up. He relaxed in your touch.

“I was counting,” you admitted. The days between.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

You kept one hand wrapped around his shoulders but moved the other to turn his face to the side. You planted a light kiss on his cheek, resting your forehead on the spot after. You savored the small, delicate moments that were few and far on the road.

Scott patted your arm when the quiet became too much.

“Lay down,” he instructed.

You untangled yourself from him and fell backwards on the bed. Splayed on the mattress with your knees bent, he slipped his socks off and turned around with one leg perched on the bed and the other on the floor. Scott’s hand traced the lines on your bent knees formed by the lighting of the room. He watched you adjust your body for comfort in his observance.

He’d be a fool to say you weren’t igniting a fire in him.

There were nights where he’d find you angry at him, the fuck that followed heated and he’d mark you with bruising kisses to remind you of it. There were some hurried and frantic—usually following a close encounter by either of you but the ones where it was slow… they were rare.

And looked down at you with adoration he couldn’t express. His eyes were telling yet he never said words that reaffirmed he cared for you more than he looked forward to your next meeting or that he thought about you—in the shower or in passing, Scott never clarified.

Scott pushed open your legs to accommodate him. He took in the oversized tourist tee that helped cover the pair of sleep shorts of his next conquest. Without hesitation, he grabbed at the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down your legs quickly.

He ticked at you at the sight of you bare before him.

“Were you expecting someone?” He chastised jokingly. “That’s a little presumptuous.”

“Maybe,” you cooed. He grasped you by the back of your knees and pulled you down the bed before getting on his own.

“There’s always a some guy followin’ us around in these parts. Sometimes I’ll let him in.”

“Oh?” His breath was hot on your thigh. A kiss laid as he maneuvered himself to your center and you tossed your head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You bit your lip to fight a smile when his familiar lips kissed at the crux of your leg and groin.

“Handsome with this cute smile no one ever sees.”

You felt your breath stagger as he moved to the most wanton part of you and licked a line through you. His eyes watched you intently; the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your hands begged for something to grasp on. His nose bumped your clit as he got comfortable with a rhythm. Scott savored the way his tongue gathered your wetness, pushing against your plush walls.

You were trying so hard to be quiet. The walls of hotels were thin—you weren’t an idiot. It was a miracle that the man you fucked wasn’t a talker most of the time.

Scott’s tongue was warm against you. Lapping in a way that made you lose the breath inside. He was slow, soft in his movements that made you want to squirm.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Head pressing harshly against the comforter of the bed, your body hooked itself into an arch at his ministrations. A lewd, antagonizing sound of your pleasure being had by a man whose eyes bore deep into the way your body moved at his will sent you spinning.

Scott shifted himself on the bed. His feet propelled him upwards but he never let go, his hands nor mouth. He pushed you upwards on the bed and wrapped an arm around your leg to rest on your lower abdomen.

The change caught the words in your mouth.

Scott, occupied, still watched you unravel like putty. His eyes watched you focus on anything but his face and in an attempt to get your attention, his hand on your stomach moved to fiddle with your shirt that had not made it to the floor.

Your hand was quick to fold over his, squeezing tightly. His fingers flexed back.

“Oh,” you keened. In an effort to stay quiet, your other hands fingers pressed against your lips. The fire within you grew hotter.

Moving his hand from yours, he shifted to spread open your lips and gather the wetness on his tongue. Scott titled his head upwards and sucked on your clit that had you spinning. Your free hand went straight to his head and settled in his brown locks.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered as your toes curled and your hips rutted against his face unabashedly.

Scott’s other hand was long missing from your body as the one focused on you was hard at work with your satisfaction. He palmed at himself in his pants the best he could. The angle wasn’t working and soon, he’d need a reprieve.

The muscles in your body tensed. They began to shake not from a release, but an anticipation of one growing. The more you moved, the more Scott wanted to let go and slip inside of you.

He slowed his tongue to small, sensual flicks reminiscent of him bringing you back from a high you hadn’t yet reached. Pulling back on you, his lips caught with a trail of your slick and his spit. Scott ran his tongue over his lips—taking with him the taste of you.

“Move up,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

You sat up on your elbows and moved upwards on the bed as he stood up. He walked back to the chair beside the door where his belongings had ended up when he first burst through the door.

If you were attempting to be sly, your eyes navigated his body on display. Scott fully undid his belt and chucked his phone on the chair beside it. He shuffled out of his pants and briefs—pausing when the screen on his phone lit up with a text.

You couldn’t read it from the distance between you but he left it unread, turning back to you as your focus narrowed to his dick freely standing.

“My eyes are up here,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m admiring,” you drawled. You ran a hand up your body and bent it behind your head on the pillows. “Can’t a girl admire? I mean…”

“She can,” he nodded in implying you can.

Scott took himself in his hands, pumping as he approached the bed again. He didn’t need to ask the ways in which to make both of you happy. He could read the room and the days and knew that what you both needed was something simple.

But sometimes, something simple was enough.

He joined you on the bed, tapping on your leg that blocked his goal.

“Come on,” his words were cut and dry and quiet.

You moved your leg back down as you sat up to meet him. Him, on his knees before you with his length in his hand and you, splayed before him wet and wanting. You reached to replace his hand with yours but he shook his head, knocking his chin at your shirt with a disapproving shake.

The worn Ole Miss letters standing stark amidst the nakedness of the room. Doc.

Huffing, you were quick to lose the shirt.

“Better?” You asked him. Reaching back toward to replace his hand, he removed his and let you take him.

“Perfect,” he groaned at the feel of your hand.

He was heavy and warm in your palm; watching with an intensity that only beckoned you to go further—sliding your hand along him delicately and squeezing just enough at the base for him to emit a grunt of satisfaction. Scott’s hands caressed the sides of your thighs as his mind went blank.

“Scott,” you purred. Sitting up on your knees and never letting him go. Your other hand wrapped around his shoulders as you pressed your chest against his. His hands were hot on your hips and ass.

You lazily drew your lips along his jaw to ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered. His heart was beating so fast. “I want you to fuck me into this mattress and make me think about it for days.”

Scott’s eyes were closed. His breathing unsteady and head pushing into yours. He gripped your body tightly.

“Baby—“ the pet name slipped out before he had a chance to take it back. Too personal? He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t think straight. With your hand on his dick, all he could think about was how fast he could get inside of you.

“I thought we said—“

“We’ll be quiet,” you reassured him. “I didn’t say hard.”

Oh. You wanted to be fucked softly.

The kind of sex that left a heavy haze in the air. The one that drew everything out of a person and left it there, lingering, as if the pieces of them were nothing more than particles in space.

It was the sex you couldn’t turn back from.

You were too far gone.

You had been for quite some time yet never slipped up. You enjoyed what small, unreliable fling you had no matter how it grew inside of you. Scott wasn’t a man you’d dream about as a teen thinking of your future. He was a certified asshole with an ego as big as the fucking ocean but it slithered past defenses and ended up knocking at your gate.

But you loved the sinful way it made you feel.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You cooed. You careened in his touch, pitching upwards as he cupped your ass roughly and relished the feel of your breasts on his chest. Everything about you was so soft.

“You know I do,” he panted. You stroked him still.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You positioned your head in front of his, kissing him gently on the lips before lowering back down onto the bed with your knees parted. You let him go and his cock bobbed.

And he did as you asked.

When Scott fucked you, the heavens blushed from above. He took his dick in his hand again, positioning himself to be in front of your pussy that was still shining with the wetness he left. He rubbed his tip up and down, gathering the wetness he could. Each motion threatening to push him in faster than either of you wanted.

This could be hours or forever and you’d never want it to end.

He stopped at your entrance to look in your wanton eyes. They begged him, they wanted him without a word. He guided his cock into you slowly. Your cunt, warm and inviting, welcomed him smoothly. Pressing your head deep into the pillows, you let out weak gasps at his intrusion.

Your head was swirling. You were full of him.

Each touch and each thrust was sending you toward a tether that was breaking string by string.

Scott was calculated but not over aware. He listened to your calls—the shallow, meek whimpers at the virility of his drives. He let you get lost; finding the stars in your eyes as he peered down at you until it became too much and Scott needed to feel you again.

Scott leaned down, taking your neck in both of your hands and kissing you deeply. Your hands glued themselves to the sides of his torso. His lips were a pillow in hot breaths; tongue sloppy when his hips ground into you faster than before.

His cock was splitting you. Thrust after thrust he gained the momentum of chasing a high. He never let you go; holding onto you whether delicate on your neck or grasping at your body, Scott palmed as you grew in want.

“Come on, come on,” he gritted through his teeth as you clenched around him. You weren’t registering the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall behind you. It was only you, Scott, and the sounds of your pleasure.

He picked up the rapid movements as best he could. It was so easy to lose himself in you. He, the most rigid man in both word and action, came alive at the opportunity to simply let go. Those words were strange—to let go—but he had found it in your meetings.

Scott Miller was many things, yet fucking you unbeknownst to the world was his greatest secret in his cruelty.

He watched you wither or waver, hands shifting to hold his face close to yours. You kept muttering nonsensical deliverances at your hips jutting up to join his. It was growing fierce—your end. The orgasm eating away at your resolve. Scott’s eyes were battering down on your own, nodding his head with eager anticipation of the rush of your finish.

He nodded, chin bumping yours as your mouths declined to collide in a spectacle. Your breaths beat at the rapid nature of your heart; panting for respite in the low light of the hotel’s table lamp and glow of the television.

“That’s it,” Scott coaxed. His silence in the efforts of his body ceasing. “Come on.” His teeth bit at his words.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out. The wave was approaching. It tingled in your toes and laid heavy in your core. “Shit,” you gasped quietly. “Oh!”

Your mouth fell open and he took the opportunity to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away and the curl of your toes became too real. You kept squeezing him, emboldening him to come with you.

Scott felt your muscles contract before it was nothing but a shake of your legs. You arched your back into him, allowing him to draw you close as he pounded into your finish to race to his own.

There was nothing in your eyes except the stars you couldn’t see. It was fuzzy, exhilarating as the pulses rushed through you in a couple, disjointed and erratic bursts. You couldn’t help but shake; it was overstimulating as Scott continued to push against your walls.

You swallowed his grunts, clinging onto his shoulders and cupping his face as he drew his arms under your back and repositioned you. He was close, so close. The beads of sweat on his forehead called him to end—a sure sign of his stamina along the sheen that covered you.

His hips snapped in and out with a fury. The softness of his earlier actions were thrown out the window. He did as he believed, fucked you into a state where you’d remember it for days.

And then his tether broke too.

Scott held your hips against him tightly. He kissed your lips as he finished inside of you before deepening it.

Suddenly you weren’t going to remember the sex.

You were going to recall the way he kissed you after he made sure you both came. How he wouldn’t let you feel anything but his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until he was soft inside of you.

Scott left your lips with a faint, nearly absent smile.

“How’s that for remembering?”

He wasn’t one for validation. He didn’t seek your approval but it slipped out of him with the words he shouldn’t say.

You ran your tongue over your lips to wet them. “Mm,” you thought. “I might forget what it feels like to be kissed?”

Scott scoffed as you ran your fingers through his hair. He dipped his head again to kiss your shoulder, peppering kisses to your lips as he made a trail. He nuzzled his nose into the side of your face and could tell when your face broke out into a smile. Taking the chance, he tucked his forehead into the crux of your neck and shoulder. You squirmed with laughter but his hands held you steady.

“I’ll be heading to The City for a few days,” he grumbled into your neck. “We got a new truck.”

“The gang ain’t enough anymore? You’re gonna outnumber us.”

Scott shook his head and began to unravel. He lifted up from you, slipping out as the cold met wet in the air. You could not help but draw your brows together at the discomfort—Scott’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh.

He started off the bed and into the bathroom attached to help clean you up. Tossing your worn shirt back on the bed before shuffling into his briefs and pants again. You sat up in confusion.

“Aren’t you stayin’?” You asked. “I thought we’d have a few hours.”

Maybe it had been dangerous to voice hope.

To voice and acknowledge the misery of missing him when it hurt to do so.

He shook his head again and went to his phone. “I gotta get that truck before she flies in.”

She. “Who?” You questioned with concern. You weren’t exclusive, you weren’t supposed to be jealous.

“Some girl Javi invited out for a few days,” he dismissed. Scott’s eyes were glued to the phone in his hand. “She works for NWS.”

“To help you?”

“Why else?” He sounded disgruntled at the fact. But he ignored your tone too. “Said she was a friend from college.”

“What’s the NWS got to do with your work?”

“She’s just helpin’ us find the tornados, not anything else. We don’t need help in what we do.”

You weren’t oblivious to Storm Par—you’d be a fucking fool not to be. It was something you detested, despised, about him and if you thought about it too long, you felt even the slightest but guilty of letting your thoughts wander to him when you were set on doing good.

He took from people in pain for what? His own personal gain? The money he raked in on the side of allowing a maniac of a man to fund his projects?

You knew there was a piece of him that strung you along not for sex or the fondness of it, but out of necessity to follow.

His team of storm chasers wouldn’t have the opportunities if they didn’t follow Tyler and the crew.

You were just collateral for the course. A “get love quick scheme” in the center of a raging cyclone of fucked up felonies and a YouTube channel of misfits.

Scott let his fingers move briskly over the keyboard of his phone.

“When is she coming?” You feigned to ponder instead.

“Monday.”

“So that means you have to leave now?”

Oh Lord Almighty. You sounded pathetic. Knees pulled up to your chest, holding the pieces of you together as you became forgotten.

You may have done things that made your momma blush but you cowering under the idea that a man is gonna leave you cold after a good roll in the sheets would set her aflame.

“Have to,” he tossed his phone back on the chair and took a new shirt out from his backpack. “For business on Sunday with Riggs before we head out. We agreed to…” he went back to his phone to check the time. “A two o’clock departure time.”

It wasn’t even fucking twelve thirty but hey, he couldn’t be seen, right?

“Bullshit,” you let fall out.

“What?” Scott picked it up. His head snapped to you.

“I said it’s bullshit,” you said a bit louder for him to hear. “I don’t get it, I don’t.”

“What don’t you ‘get’?” He had a lacing of judgment in his voice. It could have been the MIT superiority in him that festered with the ever mounting praise of his colleagues.

“I just don’t know when it will be enough for all of you,” you scoffed. “You pour money down drains for machines and tech and then you stockpile tragedies we can’t even keep up with. And now you’ve got the NWS on your side? The ones who are supposed to care about keeping us safe?”

“It’s freelance,” he pointed out while tucking in his shirt. He did up the belt in a flash. “And these people don’t need what’s left for them after it’s all gone. You know how hard it is for them to rebuild.”

“But those are their homes, Scott. What if it was your home or my home or your parents?”

“I’d figure we’d all end up in different places anyway,” he tucked his phone in his back pocket.

You shook your head at him, looking away to focus on the TV. Muttering an “unbelievable” under your breath, you began to wonder the reasons why he even bothered to show up.

They drove an entire team to Perry to sleep in a run of the mill hotel or perhaps that was second to Scott getting his fill. He just needed one good fuck to send him off and running to his next paycheck.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Scott concluded dispassionately. That stone cold, humorless man replaced whoever burst through the door.

“We both have jobs to do. Just stay in your lane and I’ll be in mine.”

Oh Christ he made you fume.

“You can be a real jackass, you know that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You aren’t tellin’ me anything I ain’t heard before, honey.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shouted a bit too loudly. He slung his cap back on his head. “You’re such a piece of shit.”

“Then why tell me you were gonna be here?” He hummed an ask, approaching the bed with intent. You looked up at him as he settled in the spot next to you with his feet on the floor and arm outstretched to hold onto the headboard.

“Why ask me to sleep with you or stay or kiss you or whatever else just to hate me after it’s all done?”

“I didn’t ask to hate you.”

“You don’t hate me,” he clarified. “You just hate the way you feel about me.”

“You’re selfish,” you settled on.

“You’re entitled,” Scott countered. The Ole Miss on your shirt burned.

“You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

And that pained you.

“You care about everyone else far too much,” he pulled his head toward you. His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes and you wanted to punch him and kiss it away.

All you wanted was to have a good night. To be worshiped in a quiet space and he gave you that, even if brief.

“Sometimes I don’t know why we even try.”

He was taken aback by it. You both were two people on very different ends of a string that snapped you together. It wasn’t perfect but it worked for the most part.

“Then why do we?” He shouldn’t have said it yet he did.

“You can’t even bear to stay,” you whispered. For a second, you thought you saw clarity in those cloudy eyes. “You can’t even fucking hold me after what we did.”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay.”

“You don’t get it do you?”

Scott breathed in deeply, declining the sentiment with a toss of his head.

“I gotta go,” he said quietly instead. He took your chin in his hand, knocking it gently to the side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” was all you could muster.

And then he left without another word.

In Boone’s mind, it did not matter if the sky was at its darkest, a joint never waited to be smoked when necessary.

He had woken about an hour before as Storm Par’s slamming of car doors rustled him from slumber. The RV wasn’t the most perfect place to reside while traversing wild weather but he loved it all the same. He rolled off the bunk without notice of Dexter who would have surely scolded him for partaking at such a late hour.

So, he snuck into the truck and lit up in the quiet solitude of night without interruption.

It wasn’t until an hour later when the drowsy feel of his tingles began to wear into sleep that he began to see things he’d question.

Boone rubbed the tired from his eyes the same time a door opened up to his right. He ducked into the front seat as though what he was doing was far from normal and spied the invasion of the public space.

Down to the right, Scott exited the room with a scowl on his face Boone could see in the dark. A backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked frustrated compared to the blasé he was used to. Scott walked past Boone without noticing and hopped into one of Storm Par’s trucks.

Boone remained ducked as he thought back to the room. Scott settled in the passenger seat before reclining it back to sleep. He disappeared from Boone’s view and the latter looked to the motel rooms again.

Even in his foggy memory, he recalled Lily sticking a crumpled piece of paper in the cup holder for Tyler to use. It had the address of the motel and the room numbers reserved. He scouted the cup holders until his fingers grasped the paper’s corner.

“34221 Sli-“ he rumbled off as he read the note. His eyes traveled down to the rooms.

Lily room nine.

Tyler room thirteen.

Dani room twenty-one.

And then his eyes widened in curiosity at your name finely written and a twenty-two carved next to it. Those same numbers were lightly illuminated by the light above the door.

“No shit,” Boone chuckled in disbelief.

The next few days were nothing but a blur.

The sky was like that too. Cloudy and gray. It seemed to reflect whatever was left inside of you to stir and gather into something larger as your memories of Scott overplayed in your mind with poor restraint.

God, how you wished it would just rain and swallow you whole.

It was absurd—feigning such disappointment over a man who was not your significant other but did everything in solitude to appear that way. He loved on you and left you cold with nothing to warm the thoughts of what it would be like when you saw him again.

And when you did, it was disappointing.

The woman they had brought on to help was far too good to be mixed in with a crowd of degenerate Ivy pricks but she stayed with them longer than she should have. In their paths, it felt like they crossed yours even more than before.

You were struck trying to avoid Scott’s entire being when his truck passed or when they stopped at the same station or motel or place as you and yours.

It started to eat at you, the avoidance.

On an early Tuesday morning, you felt the winds begin to change again. Tyler blew a tire the night before and broke his jack trying to fix it. The lot of you ended up in the parking lot of a rundown gas station as the sun began to rise when the white trucks came barreling down the road and straight into the parking lot.

Dani booed them from the stairs of the RV.

“Can’t your just leave us the hell alone?” Lily complained. It had been four days straight of interactions with them and it had caused nothing but trouble. You tried your best to stay normal but Boone kept sitting by you as if he wanted to hold your hand.

It peeved you to think he knew something was wrong.

“They just love us too much,” Dani joked as she waved at the group exiting their trucks. Kate, their newest addition, smiled in the distance.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Boone acknowledged from beside you.

“Hey Storm Par!” Dani shouted. “Go find your own fucking tornados!”

Beside their trucks, Javi scoffed and shook his head.

“What?” Kate inquired, her eyes curious as they had been the last week. “They’re just jokin’ I’m sure.”

“Nah,” Javi replied. “They don’t like us the same as we don’t like them. I thought you’d pick up on that now.”

“Well sure,” Kate laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “But there’s more to this than that.”

There’s more to chasing than a fight.

“Yeah well, tell that to them.”

“They’re just shitheads,” Scott piped up on his approach. “Think they’re better than the rest of us because they’ve got a camera in their face.”

“They’ve been fine to me,” Kate defended. She watched as the so-called tornado wranglers bounced up from their seats and headed in her direction. The man with the bandana tried to coax you to join but you refused physically.

“It’s just all of you that rub them the wrong way.”

“Well it’s a two-way street.”

You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

Kate observed the carefree way in which everyone interacted with one another. The two other girls tugged on your arms to bring you to your feet against your will. She felt Scott shift on his feet beside her but didn’t dwell on it.

“They still got that reporter with ‘em,” she noted. “Must be an interesting bunch to write a story about.”

“When you put together people from seven different walks of life, you’re bound to get something good,” Javi agreed with her.

Scott shifted again and Kate looked up at him. He wore his sunglasses, therefore it was hard to see his eyes. But his face was set and jaw tight. His hands were dug into his pockets but the distaste rolled off of him in waves. She looked back into the direction of all of you.

Boone was running circles around the three girls as their arms were wrapped around each other. Friends. It reminded Kate too much of the ones she lost.

“Alright everyone,” Scott called out. “Five minutes and then we’re back on the road.”

The inside of the station was no different than any other. Five rows of food with a wall of freezers in the back, a broken counter with a tower of cigs and vapes waiting to be sold. Kate was reading the back of a SunChips bag when you all came in. The bell above the door sounding with a jingle, Dani and Lily’s laughter filled the space compared to the nonexistent chatter of Storm Par’s presence.

You held the door open for Tyler who gave a wink and a thanks that didn’t phase you as it would her. He was handsome, charming if a little obnoxious. He smiled at Kate and a part of her felt like running, the other falling.

You didn’t have the same spunk the others did. After they left your vicinity the smile on your face dropped and the shoulders were heavy. You passed Kate, giving her a small hello, before walking down the aisle. She peaked her head to the side of the stand.

“Find anything good?” Kate called out kindly. Her light Oklahoma twang cut through.

You glanced at her. “If you count fruit flavored Doritos good, then maybe we have different tastes.”

She chuckled and took it as a sign to approach.

You didn’t know much about Kate other than what Boone had dug up and what Scott had mentioned before she arrived. She was smart as a whip, a talented chaser, and one who made mistakes too.

“I don’t think those would be good in any situation.”

“We can agree there,” you mumbled. You picked up a small bag of Veggie Straws.

“So where are y’all chasing today?” Kate inquired.

“Why?” You countered. “So you can follow us around?”

“No,” she shook her head, feeling as though she offended you. “No… we can find our own. I was just wonderin’ if y’all wanted to go to this bar tonight.”

You furrowed your brows. Under the static lighting of the gas station mart, you were falling into confusion.

“Y’all as in… us?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. Kate was intrigued by what you did. The way you all risked so much for entertainment or maybe, for some of you, there was still an inch of science to be discovered.

The day after you all converged and she had a panic attack at the sight of the tornado, Kate spent the morning watching the videos posted from your channel. She was amazed by the thrill of what feelings Tyler and Boone could ooze out of the screen.

But she took a liking to the science you broke down for the average viewer. The way you taught amidst the chaos of wrangling tornadoes or shooting fireworks up the funnel.

“I thought we could all use a break,” she shrugged. “Javi and I have known each other for a long time and we used to stop there for line dancing on Thursdays.”

Well it just so happened to be a Thursday.

“And these fellas are more wound up than a goddamn toy,” she said under her breath. “I think a pitcher of beer and some good ol’ fashion Oklahoma hospitality would do us well.”

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Um, well… Ty makes a lot of those decisions so many you could ask him?”

Her eyes went bright. “Sure! I mean, I just thought I’d ask. They all talk about you so much… I think they’re all a little jealous.”

The thought of what Scott or any of the other Storm Par guys said about you and your friends bristled you. Scott’s face met you in dreams to remind you that he was never too far away and whatever strife you had with him and his work was always going to get in the way.

“Do they?” You commented. You could hear Javi in the aisle over talking to Scott about equipment.

“Mhm.”

“How charming,” you moved down the aisle to the other products but Kate didn’t follow. She looked in your direction but behind you.

Javi and Scott were at the end of the aisle beside you, the former shuffling behind you with a small ‘excuse me’ while the other stood there for a brief moment. You looked over your shoulder at him and his glasses were now gone, meeting your gaze for seconds too long.

“I was just inviting them to come with us,” Kate informed Javi who turned, eyeing you as your attention was distracted.

“Well I hope they can dance,” Javi .

Kate said your name which brought your attention back. You could feel Scott lingering, his stance imposing on your small aisle of snacks. You could always feel him around—a curse from caring about everyone too much. He wasn’t a small man or one who could hide in the shadows; he towered over the short shelves.

And that caught Tyler’s attention when the conversation became too loud to go unnoticed. He appeared out of thin air at the other end of the aisle by the door.

You wanted the bags of chips to swallow you whole. It was bad enough that you were stuck between the word you loved and the man who made it more complicated. It was bad enough that Tyler would certainly say yes to Kate’s proposal because he had been sneaking glances at her for a week.

He had shit-eating grin on his face as he walked closer to the group of you. His curious eyes monitoring the way Scott’s body was a little too close to yours.

A part of him believed they were cornering you for something. He wouldn’t put it past them for their sordid work in the hellish treatment of victims but hey, who was he to assume? You clutched the bag in your hands hard enough it could pop.

“We all good over here?” Tyler questioned Scott specifically. It was the only other guy he could size up to and play out a macho-man persona. “I don’t think I need to tell y’all that my team is my team, off limits to your work.”

Scott laughed, truly laughed at Tyler. Javi and Kate’s heads whipped around to Scott who rested an arm bent on the shelves beside him. Tyler focused on Scott in a labored calculation. He might have been the one they all liked the least.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. His voice flat as always. “You did.”

Tyler looked around at Kate, Javi, and yourself who frowned.

“Care to explain what?”

Scott held back an amused smile as his eyes creased at the edges. You looked up at him with a warning. To your surprise, Scott looked back.

“No,” he responded curtly while looking at you. Off limits.

Kate sensed it. She did. There was something there—the air heavy like a storm.

“We’re gonna go to a dance bar in Enid tonight. I was just askin’ if all y’all would like to join us,” Kate pitched in to Tyler who slowly removed his gaze from Scott to her. His eyes let up softly.

“Dance bar? I don’t take any of these fellas for the dancing kind.”

“Don’t you know we’re all from here?” Javi asked him and he didn’t. You did but Tyler didn’t know much about any of them except their high degrees of achievement and late-stage superior fraternity behavior.

“So you’re tellin’ me that Mr. Stick-up-his-ass here can two step like it’s his birthday?”

“Oh you ain’t never see Scott dance,” Javi laughed loudly and gathered the rest of the wranglers to the aisle. “We can dance you into next week.”

“Alright,” Tyler nodded his head. One night wouldn’t hurt. “I’m good with it as long as it’s fine with Doc.”

Shit. They all gazed at you with bated breath. You could feel their beady eyes piercing; Scott's blistering eyes on the side of your head prompting you to try.

The last time you attempted to have a good evening it left you reeling. That was six days ago and you still replayed Scott’s words through your mind. Over and over and over and over again.

You’re entitled.

Stay in your lane.

You cared about everyone else too much.

Yet your lanes always converged. And you had the right to be entitled as the name suggested. Doc. You were overly qualified to be there and whatever flew your way, you deserved it.

And fuck, if you didn’t care about everyone else, you’d be a shell of a human. So hollow that your world would collapse.

By the laws of physics, you’d stay in motion. You’d keep going even if he pulled you backwards a million times.

You looked at Tyler, tossing your bag of chips in his direction.

“I’d love to go dancin’.”

Boone screeched a happy whistle and yelled to save him a dance. Scott seethed at those words as if he had a claim otherwise. It was an agreement to keep it quiet for the sake of your jobs, your sanity. But he was a covetous in his belongings and for whatever belief he had, you were his in all but name.

His actions made it difficult to fully manifest into reality. When you keep a locked door locked, you don’t deserve to enjoy it for free. It ate away at him differently than the anxiety of hurt ate at you.

He wanted to freely give himself to you–to be the man you'd see on dark nights in the solace of a bedroom or wherever you could find respite.

It was tough to be the person you thought you were.

It was much easier to be a coward.

The dance bar was packed full of locals and tourists alike. You couldn’t place the pull Enid had on people who weren’t from there but it was alive the moment you walked through the door.

Boone whistled at the sight of everything.

“I gotta hand it to ‘em. They sure can pick a place.”

“Have you never been dancin’ before?” You questioned, linking your arm in the space offered by him. He gave a cheeky smile and tipped his cowboy hat with a free finger.

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, Doc. Just cause you ain’t seen these moves don’t mean I ain’t got them.”

“Maybe I’ve been blessed. If it’s the same way you hold a camera, I can’t imagine your feet.”

“Uh huh,” he egged you on. “Keep it comin’. I have a whole night to prove you wrong.”

You scrunched your nose at him. At the moment, a series of rapid clicks sounded behind you. You and Boone peaked behind you at Ben, the reporter, snapping a photo.

“Sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “I haven’t been able to capture much of you.” He spoke to you, not Boone. “I want to feature more than just the storms.”

“Well you’re gonna get a whole lot more than storms tonight, Ben!” Boone cheered as Dani joined him on his other side.

You got the sudden sense of deja vu to your college days. Those undergraduate nights where your friends would drag you to the bar and everything was far too loud and over exciting. It was beer and booze and feet that fumbled. There was nothing over exhilarating about going out on a weekday but now, past those prime days, you felt a simmer of that feeling come alive inside of you.

Against your better judgment, the idea that Scott and you were crossing paths in a public setting beyond your professions was exciting. It sent thrills down you when it shouldn’t.

He had done nothing to remedy what he said—nor you for that matter. You kept your distance by sitting in the truck while stopping or sleeping in the RV with Dexter and Boone instead of a motel. Every time in the last week that your lines had met, you kept them parallel.

Tonight would be the hardest to not intersect.

“Can I buy you all a round?” Ben offered kindly. His mannerisms were foreign in the West. “For an exciting week, I suppose.”

“Who are we to say no, Ben?” Tyler slung an arm around his shoulder. Dexter and Lily flanked him at his sides.

Your group settled at a table in the back of the bar by the darts and pool table. Dexter challenged Dani to a rematch of a game they had settled a couple of weeks ago, and the rest of you nursed or chugged the beer that Ben had bought. You were the former. Sticking your attention on the foam at the top as it slowly made its way down the glass to become nonexistent.

“So,” Boone cleared his throat beside you as Dani, Tyler, and Ben looked over the photos the journalist had taken thus far.

“Is there a reason your attitude has been shit lately?”

You peered into the glass. Fingers tapping the sides of it.

“I was editing the last video and if anyone wanted a tornado to actually kill them, viewers might be convinced it’d be you.”

“Oh come on,” you scoffed. “I am sure my bad day didn’t ruin the video.”

“I didn’t say ruin, only tainted it. But what’s goin’ on?” He pointed and probed at your temple invasively. “The wheels are turning. I can hear them.”

“It’s nothin’, Boone. Just… girl stuff.”

“My favorite!” He bellowed like a King. Dani transitioned from her conversation to yours.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Girl stuff,” he mimicked. “Just askin’ about little miss sad is all.”

Dani nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“Is it about your tinder date?”

“My what?” You showed deep confusion. “What date?”

“Last week,” she said casually. “I could hear your headboard against my wall. Jesus,” Dani laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you Doc.”

Ben and Tyler’s conversation ended and they eavesdropped from the end of the table. At the other end of the bar, Storm Par, in casual clothing, entered.

You blanched at her words. You didn’t even realize.

“Oh-ho!” She pounded a fist on the table. “It was a tinder guy! Ha!”

Boone went suspiciously quiet beside you as she kept on.

“I didn’t want to say anything then but it makes sense. You’ve been on edge ever since. Maybe you should call him—“

“No,” you shook your head at her. Your hands left the glass and settled in your lap.

“He wasn’t good? Oh—“

“No!” You defended too fast and awkwardly. Boone glanced at Tyler who became far too interested in his co-pilot’s silence.

Dani lowered her voice with concern. “Was it too, you know, rough? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the invasion of privacy. “Can you not?”

“Sorry!” She held up her hands. “I didn’t hear anything else if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t want to know your kinks.”

“Oh fuck me,” you wailed. “Dani, can you please stop?”

“Ok, ok!” She backed off and sat in her seat. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I know,” you breathed in. Tyler took a large sip of his beer before putting it back on down the table.

“We know him?” He questioned, eying Boone move uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him and gaped for a millisecond before shaking your head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Boone glanced at Tyler again and he knew you lied. He didn’t think it was Boone—that would be a nonstarter because you weren’t his type. It wasn’t Dexter because he was married and Ben was not interested in women.

He knew you didn’t swing for Dani or Lily so it was someone else. Dani already deduced it was a man so any other woman was out of the question.

“Well maybe you just need to find someone else to take your mind off of it?” Dani suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bit at the inside of your cheek.

“A lot of fuss over a one night stand,” Tyler put an arm over the back on Ben’s seat. “Must’ve been somethin’ if you’re down and out about it.”

You downed the beer before you in a flash.

“Must’ve,” Dani agreed with a hum.

“Anyone want another?” You asked, shifting out of your seat. The heels of your boots clacked onto the floor with a bounce.

Everyone shook their heads no and let you leave the table.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly and the bar was full. You spotted Kate with a couple of the Storm Par guys doing a shot—all of them looking like regular Joe’s in their tees and flannels. Not far from the edge of the bar Scott and Javi waited for pitchers to be filled.

It was rare you saw him out of his “uniform.” Clad in a dark blue tee and his own flannel, the only thing that separated him from the rest was the way he looked. When he tried, Scott was movie-star handsome. The kind of person that’d be having girls write their numbers on his hand at the end of the night.

His presence was unfair to the other men around—except for Tyler on the occasion. It was a shame he was an asshole.

Instead of going toward Scott and Javi as you might have a week ago, you took an empty spot beside Kate who cheerfully greeted you. She waved down the bartender, asking for another shot and to refill your glass.

Tyler watched you walk away. He couldn’t see the decision making in your eyes or hear the thoughts in your mind, yet he had his own to make assumptions.

“Boone,” he called to his friend who sat quietly. Tyler watched you stand next to Kate and Ben’s gaze followed.

“Yeah?”

“Why you bein’ so quiet?”

“I’m n-not,” he tripped over his words. “I’m not.”

“You sure we don’t know him?”

Tyler clocked each of the Storm Par men. None of them looked immediately taken by you standing there, itching to get their hands on you but then he let himself wander to the end of the bar.

And he locked in.

“I don’t know him,” Boone choked a laugh. “How would I know? She’d tell Dani before me.”

“I didn’t say she told you.”

“Well I’m just implying.”

Tyler turned to Ben who was trying to copy Tyler’s movements.

“Ben,” Tyler tipped his head toward you. “Tell me what you see.”

Ben cleared his throat like he was being interrogated. “Well they just got a second round of shots and the bartender said it’s on the house. She must recognize us.”

“Ok,” Tyler pointed. “And down there? What can we conclude, Mr. London.”

“Oh, well… it seems not everyone is out for a good time.” It was Scott’s frown that told him that.

“You sure?” Tyler watched as Dani blanked. Her eyes suddenly went wide and worrisome at the thought.

“No!” She objected. “No fucking way. Not on my watch, Tyler. Nope!”

“What?” Ben asked frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“Tyler thinks it’s one of them,” Dani pointed to Javi and Scott.

“It is one of them,” as though there were options. “It’s the fucking stick in the mud.”

Dani scowled and physically rejected the idea. Ben watched what Tyler did as Scott, the taller of the two men and the one facing your direction at the bar, couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you laughed at whatever Kate said.

You started to leave and he averted his gaze until your back was to him. You didn’t even look at him when you passed him and Javi.

“Shit,” Dani muttered as you got closer. Boone closed his eyes with a sigh before nodding at the rest of the table.

“It is him,” he admitted and Dani slapped a hand on her face. “I saw him.”

“You saw them?”

“No, him. Leaving her motel room last week.”

“Oh Lord,” Dani nearly wailed. “She’s been sad over him?”

“He is quite attractive,” Ben defended. Dani slapped his arm harshly.

“Dammit don’t say that!”

Tyler sat in contemplation. He had been your friend for years now and knew when things got rough, it could be difficult to overcome them. Everyone had gone through countless breakups and one night stands and situationships that didn’t work out and after a bit, you’d be ok.

Yet he knew it was different somehow.

Even though he despised Storm Par and had nothing but horrible interactions with Scott, there must have been something there for you to cling on to.

And anger had a distant cousin: jealousy.

When you came back to the table, everyone was quiet and observing.

“What?” You questioned each of them.

“Nothin’” Dani said quickly.

“Oh really?”

“Do you wanna dance?” Tyler asked you abruptly. You could see on his face that there was another thought lingering below the surface but didn’t prove.

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” he hopped off his stool and motioned toward the group of people dancing to the rhythms of the music. Most were couples, a few spattering of friend groups around.

Tyler held out his hand to you.

“Don’t tell me a PhD can’t dance, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours. It wasn’t Scott’s, but it would do for now.

“Of course I can, hillbilly. I just do it a bit more sophisticated than you.”

Dani and Boone howled in laughter as you let Tyler take you to the dance floor, spinning you around twice before settling to the score. You danced sweetly with one another as the others looked on from their seats.

Tyler Owens always looked proud to be in the company of his friends. Each plucked from their own little obscure corner of the world: a YouTube daredevil, an amateur late-age scientist, an ex-pr firm reject, a tech fair winner, and you—the science bros internet girlfriend who was a professor of physics.

He adored each of you in a special way that made everyday worth living.

It hurt him that you couldn’t be honest about an action so natural. If Scott had been a one time thing or a many time thing, he would learn to accept it if it meant you would be happy.

He’d want the same in return should a situation arise.

“You know,” he cleared his throat as the song sped up in tempo but came back down. “We don’t really keep secrets from each other here.”

You sighed, looking away from Tyler. Everyone was at peace on the door before the real dancing began and you tried not to peak at the table as Storm Par settled at the table beside your friends.

“I’m not keeping secrets. I’m not revealing information.”

“Ah!” Tyler chuckled. “Ok, fine… but if I said that even if you didn’t tell us and kept whatever you have with whoever it is going, that we would all be ok with it, that wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said frankly. “I think—“

“That he’s staring at us right now.”

Tyler met your eyes with purity. There was no cruelty or hatred in them for you to think he was being a jerk about it.

You opened your mouth to speak but he denied you the chance.

“There’s a lot of things I could say about it, Doc. A lot. You could’ve picked a nicer dude, not a leech to our operations, someone who cares about people…” he trailed off when he saw your demeanor fall far from his jokes.

“Boone saw him,” he clarified. “He put the pieces together but didn’t want to say anything. Not his place, I guess.”

“No,” you said in soft resignation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How long?”

“Not long after we met them,” you confessed. About a year ago. Tyler whistled, his hand inched a bit lower on your back but it was still respectful, you didn’t mind.

“And something he did, said, isn’t sitting right?”

“No.”

“Do you want my advice?”

You stayed silent as he continued on. He let the music play out as you swayed. Javi and Kate joined on the floor and their giggles were noticeable from the short distance between you.

“Guys like him… they’re complicated. And I get it if you don’t want to hear it but I’ve been around guys like him my whole life. They can be selfish and unnerving and stupid. It’s like they’re trying to prove to the world that they’re fit to be in it.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“When they find a place that accepts them, they’ll rise to the top of it and not know what it’s like to be at the bottom anymore. They forget about people like us.”

“I think I changed my mind—“ you started to pull away but he tugged you back.

“I’m not telling you to let him go. He just hasn’t been put in a place of uncertainty in a long, long time.”

“He said I was entitled.”

“He’s a prick and I will beat his ass if you want me to.”

You smiled. “No. It’s ok.”

“I will do it, don’t underestimate me,” he smirked. “And by the way he watches you, that uncertainty is you.”

“What do you mean by it?”

“I think you might scare him a little, Doc.”

You did.

Scott’s heart rate rose significantly from the time he entered the bar, saw you, and had to watch you dance with Tyler. Those same words that replayed in your mind the last week surfaced as soon as he sat in the truck and the door was shut.

He was an ass. It was a part of him that he couldn’t escape from no matter how he tried. His memories delicately held onto the hours you shared where he felt he could be someone else.

Tyler kept glancing in the direction in which Scott sat as though to rub salt in the wound.

“Can we try not to frown today?” Kate saddled up in the seat beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“Normal people don’t walk around grinning.”

“No,” she kicked her feet. “But they do allow themselves to have fun.”

“I am.”

She blew raspberries as Javi poured the beer into their glasses. “You are a tough nut.”

“Never not one,” Javi agreed. “Just loosen up, man. The world is bigger than what we do.”

Scott breathed in a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine,” he pressed.

“Not since I’ve met you,” Kate suggested. She looked out into the sea of people. “Maybe we can just all take it easy tonight. Drink some beer, dance, and then find you someone to take home.”

Scott’s voice was muffled by the beer he drank but he shook off her suggestion. He didn’t even really know this girl who appeared to be a phenom of weather patterns. All she had done this week was disrupt their workings and fall on his irritation scale.

“I like the sound of that!” Javi encouraged. “When’s the last time you been laid, huh? 2015?”

Scott didn’t entertain it. He looked out onto the dance floor and saw you swaying with Tyler—a mix of concern and thankfulness levied on your face.

“Ok, ok… blink once if before or twice if after,” Javi continued at Kate’s amusement. “I’m serious, man. We’re gonna hook you up, alright? Kate’s got a six sense for pickin’ the right ones.”

Javi took his turn but the song changed to a favorite of Kate’s and his eyes lit up at the same time hers did. Call it a sign from the heavens, but Scott had been saved from the humiliation of his friend.

Kate dragged Javi to the floor not far from you and Tyler and it gave him protection to keep looking.

Tyler spun you close to Javi and Kate.

“We all have to face our fears,” Tyler told you. “If we don’t, they’re gonna prevent us from what we need in our lives.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that a book deal might be in your future? Words of Wisdom by everyone’s favorite tornado wrangler.” You emphasized with the sparkle of your fingers.

“That ain’t a half bad idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas.”

“Then start thinkin’ of one to remedy this. I love ya, I do. But if you let his shell break you, it will be a hell of a lot harder to handle the road.”

“Thank you, Tyler,” you said earnestly. “I wasn’t sure what any of you would say about it.”

“Well,” he racked his brain for the thought. “You remember that girl Dani was seein’ from Kansas? She might not have been the most perfect but she was perfect for Dani when she needed her. And maybe that’s Scott for you.”

The sound ended abruptly and the speakers let out a deafening tone. A bartender came onto the surround sound to kick off the line dancing that only Tyler could hype up more. Kate and Javi found themselves beside you both and everyone that could fit on the wooden floor ascended.

Tyler clapped his hands together as he stationed himself near the first line. You weren’t too confident in yourself even if you had been doing this since you could walk, so you settled in the spot behind him. Kate was jovial to stand next to Tyler. Her eyes twinkled and you thought back on his words.

Perfect for what was needed.

“OoO, my man!” Javi clapped Scott’s back in surprise as he joined on the floor.

Dani, Boone, and Lily ran to stand next to you, so Javi and Scott took the positions behind you. Dexter cheered everyone on from the table with Ben. The latter took his camera out with his finger on the shutter.

“Don’t step on our shoes now, you hear me?” Lily screeched over her shoulder to Javi and Scott. Feeling emboldened by the two glasses of beer he downed in a record time, Scott ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it!” He shouted back.

“Ok Mr. MIT, come to show us how it’s done!” Lily drawled. She tugged on your arm—having missed the conversation prior. Dani’s smile dropped off her face fast.

“I say we place a bet!” She yelled over the music that was getting so loud. Your ears rung as the lights began to spin in different colors. Javi heard the bet and drew closer to Lily.

She pulled your arm with her, sticking you beside Scott. He put his hands on his hips and his elbow knocked your other arm.

“Twenty that he’ll fall on his face,” she suggested.

Javi looked at Scott and contemplated the idea. Scott was distracted by you standing there. He just stared, like a fish out of water in a town not far from one he visited as a kid.

You made him feel like a fish out of water.

“Deal!” You heard Javi agree and before Lily could shake his hand in a deal, you piped up.

“I bet with Javi!” She peeped at you surprised. “Forty says he can!”

Scott never had someone put trust in him like that. It was a damn good thing his mother taught him more than just math and science.

“Ok!” She yelled back, shaking both Javi and your hand.

Before you turned to take your spot as the music started, you took Scott in.

“Don’t disappoint me!” You shouted.

After the last few days, he couldn’t will himself to.

He shook his head, letting a smile grow to his eyes. Dani had never seen it before.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby!”

And Scott danced his fucking ass off.

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones.

Not the sounds of laughter in a confined space or the blaring of music—the rapid, unpredictable nature of dedication a person could not admit. It was a funnel cloud below the truck; a spiraling tire on the side of the road blasting its radius toward you.

The cool air at night hit your body like a bucket of water. The squealing of the door to the bar rattled at the force you used to push but it didn’t slam closed as you expected.

Two minutes ago, you were breathing heavily on the dance floor. The stomping rhythm of boots on wood turning your mind blank with every kick and turn. You had found the peace within the steps and let it drive you to a foundation.

Scott had gladly proved them all wrong—enjoying the surprised excitement that emitted from both his and your own team at the way he was able to, standing above six feet, move the way he did. He caught your smile more than once, a resurgence of hope filled him.

At the break of the song, you hung onto Lily’s arm, pointing to the door.

“I need some air,” you nearly heaved.

So you went for the door and he debated on whether to follow but in the business you took up, there was always the possibility of never having another moment.

And if he didn’t strike his fear now, he’d never do it.

“Hey,” he called out to you as the music started up again but you were too far gone. Already halfway to the door by the time he had made a decision. He tried calling out to you again, except his track was cut off by a sweaty Boone.

“Ex-“

“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Boone panted. His eyes pleaded for his friend, for you. “Don’t do it. Please.”

“I’m not—“

“You say you’re not but I’m sure you’ve said it before. But think about it, dude…” Boone got up in Scott’s personal space. “If a tornado hit this building right now and you were the only one left, would you be ok with how this ends?”

Scott saw the earnest plea in Boone’s call. He placed a hard, firm hand on Boone’s shoulder.

“I appreciate it, man.”

It was the first time Scott was decent to him.

Scott left him standing there near the entrance as he caught the door before it slammed closed. Outside, you stood in a cool down position in the orange-yellow glow of the parking lot.

His heart was beating out of his chest. It hadn’t felt that way in a week.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he had followed you. You didn’t turn around and didn’t acknowledge him as the silence overtook. Crickets strung their chords and cars whirled by on the road.

Scott leaned against the brick building under the neon lights with a knee bent.

“Do I scare you?”

You broke the silence after minutes had passed. You kept your back to him but he looked up, folding his arms across his broad chest.

If you turned around, you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

“Don’t lie to me,” you tried not to sound like a beggar. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah,” he stated frankly. “Yeah you do.”

“Why?”

You could hear him breathe out. You imagined him looking around for an answer.

“There’s a million reasons why.”

“You can’t name one?” You took the chance to glance at him. His face was half illuminated by a moody blue glow of the neon sign.

“I can name plenty,” he reassured. “I just don’t know what’s too personal to say.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Fine,” his fingers tapped on his bicep. “You scare me because this game we play doesn’t always feel like a game to me.”

The sex. The getting together in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings and cherish a deep connection to feel like it’s nothing the next day.

“You scare me because you’re smart and know what you’re doing when we’re just getting our heads straight.”

Your head tilted to the side at his honesty.

“You scare me because I feel something that maybe I shouldn’t. Because by some stupid chance I can’t have you, someone else will and I can’t imagine seeing them with you.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m selfish to think that way,” he nodded. “You’re right about that.”

“I was talking about your work,” you confessed. “I think what you do is selfish.”

He didn’t say anything to that because he knew it was also true. Everything he sold to people was a fat lie to make money for a man who already had enough.

“You care about people too much,” he repeated. “And I don’t have enough people to put the care that I have into them.”

“You’re an asshole,” you told him and he nodded again.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For what I said and didn’t do. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it.”

His moody blues were turning the sky sad. A raindrop hit the ground between you.

“I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness,” he continued. “I’ve never been nice to your friends, or you, when we’re on the road. I dislike the way Tyler danced with you—made me want to knock his fucking teeth out but I figured you’d hate me more if I did.”

“He did that on purpose, you know.”

He shook his head, looking off into the grassland beyond the bar. You felt like you were being laid onto an altar for a choice. One that seemed easy but was hard, and one that was hard but the devil claimed it was easy.

“Figures,” he mumbled. “But I deserved it.”

“We’d have to agree there too.”

He looked up at you again. Arms still crossed, he undid them and extended a hand to you as an offering. Scott was not shocked by the hesitation in your steps.

“I think you have a lot of work to do, Scott.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t want to think this is all grandstanding to get into my bed.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not one to give second chances,” you told him and he dropped his hand in his lap. “But I don’t think what we were doing constitutes as a first chance either.”

You walked toward him at your own volition. The gravel harsh under your heels, you settled with your toes at his. And you fiddled with the edges of the opening to his flannel no different than the collar in the diner.

“This is the only chance I’ll give you.”

Another raindrop fell.

“I don’t intend on wasting it.” Scott’s eyes flicked between your lips and eyes.

In the laws of physics, there is one to triumph above the rest.

The gravitational law states that if a particle exists, it will attract others to them unwillingly—it is simply the natural state of existence.

The pull is magnetic; impossible to pass by the will of your mind, body, or soul. It tugged at the heartstrings roughly. A bridge that connected people from everywhere to be in one singular place at the right time.

Scott’s gravitational pull was too powerful to withstand. It pulled every bit of you into him without remorse—it was blue, red, and the colors of the world within to bloom into spectacles you’d only see when your eyes were closed.

Scott’s hands found purchase on your waist, drawing you into his pull. One of your hands remained on his chest. His erratic heart beat no differently than your own and the other hand grasped his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the night. “I’m sorry.”

You rested your forehead on his. “I know.”

The strength of his pull was strong. Yet it was not strong enough for you to pull your head back.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you wanted him. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I be selfish one more time?” He inquired with a gleam in his eyes. Scott ran his tongue over his lips expectantly.

“Oh,” you feigned innocence. “Well, I don’t know if that would—“

He cut you off as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. His lips were warm and smelt of a faint cheap beer. Another raindrop fell and this time it hit your face. You ignored it.

You gripped onto his shirt with a fist as he deepened the kiss. Taking one of his hands from you, he cupped the side of your neck to position you as he pleased.

It started to rain in Enid.

In the rain, the laws of physics didn’t defy themselves. The rain soaked into your clothes and into his dark locks to drip onto his face more so than yours. The blue of the neon sign growing hot instead of cold.

You broke away from him, tracing the lines of his face.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you repeated.

And he didn’t.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[bunnyboysrus]

Dex Vicente Rosenhein

warnings : yandere behavior incoming but not too prevalent yet, this is more of a generic and vague introductory blurb, stalking if you squint, violence, monsters

Dex isn't the golden retriever type at first glance. First impressions are lukewarm at best, at worst it devolves into a fist fight. If you even notice him at all, he's just another quiet, bitter nerd keeping to himself in a corner, growing through middle and high school alongside you at a distance.

Dex had always been bad at socializing, and he never seemed to get better at it like his peers did. He also never cared to suck up to teachers or follow rules that he found inconvenient or boring, so he was offered no protection from the school's faculty when his smart mouth and short fuse got him into trouble with his fellow students, which was often.

Skipping school and constant fighting was only barely tolerable, but like some kinda 80's kid he wore skates everywhere he could get away with it, which is most places when you don't care too much about getting in trouble. Whether you noticed him much or not in middle and high school, or maybe even tried to get to know him (if you were hoping to upset your parents it would have worked), he disappeared from school without so much as a goodbye or forwarding address.

It isn't until years later that you encounter him again in college, the slouched, lanky figure topped by a pair of tall, ivory horns that occasionally flash with electric sparks of blue is hard to forget. For someone who tries so desperately to blend into the background, how starkly he stands out both in height and appearance is one of the biggest inconveniences of his life.

Dex seems startled when you approach to say hi and catch up; he's the only person from your high school you've seen here and you're curious as to whether the rumors that circulated about him having been expelled have any merit. Surprisingly he doesn't seem as apprehensive to your attention as you remember him being, and he's amiable enough to disclose that he moved after the death of a family member (but not much else).

You see him around a lot more in college then you did in high school, you share a few classes, have the same free time and tend to study or hang out in the same places. He's still bad at socializing, but it's clear that he's at least trying with you, however awkward the results may be. If you're not perceptive enough to see the subtle shift in his expression that softens his eyes when he looks at you, the sparks that run up his horns are a more obvious tell.

College life continues in a steady pace of study, leisure and youthful amounts of partying (which is to say, a surplus). Another surprise comes in finding out that Dex also frequents these parties despite his aggressively introverted nature. It's at one such party in the late fall, right on the cusp of becoming winter when the air is chilly but not yet biting, when he comes up to greet you where you are idling by the makeshift bar. His ice blue eyes glow intensely under the colorful strobing lights overhead, and his gaze feels more piercing than usual. If you had to hazard a guess, the red cup in his hand is likely far from his first. He isn't tripping over himself in a joyful stupor or letting the booze make his mouth run, but he's looser, relaxed and boldened enough to let his gaze wander over your face and hold your gaze freely when normally he seems physically incapable of looking you in the eye.

He's pulled away by friends after a bit, leaving you in the crowd. You're considering going for another drink when you're almost knocked off balance by a toweringly tall figure bumping into you from behind; you almost expect it to be Dex again, but instead a much burlier man is there, eyeing you very brazenly. His apology is an insincere attempt at a pickup which you're quick to reject; the douchiness just oozes off of him in waves. He's pushy, but eventually leaves, glowering at you in a way that gives you the slightest of chills.

The encounter just ruined the whole party for you honestly, so you call it a night. It's a bit earlier than you would normally leave but the night is not young by any means and the temperature shows it. The party was held in one of the college neighborhoods just outside the campus itself so walking back to your dorm was the obvious choice in your state. You tuck your coat tighter around you and start the trek.

As your set your slightly inebriated pace, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. As the walk drags on, the rustling of leaves in the wooded strip across from the row of houses you're walking in front of feels less like wind and more like something malicious, following you, waiting for... For what, you couldn't be sure, considering you've been well and truly alone and defenseless for the past five minutes at least.

As if prompted by your thoughts, a low growl rumbles out from the trees, shadows obscuring the source until it steps closer; an impossibly huge wolf is prowling towards you with teeth bared. Other than being at least three times bigger than wolves are supposed to be, there's something unsettlingly human in the hatred in its eyes. Your eyes are locked together, the tension in the air keening until its broken by the wolf snapping at you and surging forward.

You startle, trying to push your shaking limbs to movement but between the shock and alcohol, you only manage to fling yourself onto the ground, just barely out of the way of the wolf as it tears through the space with murderous intent. It whips around, another growl making the air shake; there's no way you'll be able to get away a second time. It moves slower this time, relishing in seeing you trembling on the ground below it, its fangs drip as its mouth opens to sink into your neck-

A brilliant blue light suddenly fills the street alongside a violent crackling sound. The wolf above you jerks and screeches out a whimper of pain as it convulses and falls to its side, disoriented but not incapacitated. You take the opportunity to scramble to your feet and take off; a chance to live has been presented and like hell you'll waste it. Behind you, you hear a snarl and the sound of paws bigger than your head pounding against the pavement after you. You risk a look over your shoulder just as a second figure, this one definitely human, rushes from seemingly out of nowhere and tackles the thing away from you, even with a size difference equivalent to that of a rat and cat. The blue light from before flashes again, and you turn your head back to keep from being blinded, the last thing you see before you sprint around the corner that puts you in sight of your dorm building is the tall, shadowed silhouette of a man with tall, pale horns.

♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥

i said forever ago i would start writing on here and i turned out to be a big fat liar, so heres my first try, more to come, suggestions and questions welcome ywy

[spaceagebachelormann]

D. Dizznee x Reader Birthday fluff? idk it's my birthday i wanna read birthday fluf

BIRTHDAY - DEX DIZZNEE

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: keeper of the lost cities

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: blurb

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: none

 ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUMMARY: dex comes to visit y/ns birthday

masterlist || kotlc masterlist || navigation

“Happy birthday!” Dex cried joyously when you opened your door for him, throwing his arms around your neck.

“Thank you! You too!” You laughed, grinning at him as he pulled away.

“What do you mean you too?” He questioned, gripping your shoulders gently.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you both engaged in a silent eye staring contest. Until, you both began laughing.

“Come inside, Dex, it’s winter. And winter means it’s cold.”

“Y/N, my house is an ice palace. I’m immune to the cold.”

“Just come inside, I have chocolate cake-”

“Coming!”

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly.