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#we’re coming back home tomorrow but still
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Burn Out
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.
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“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”
The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.
“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”
You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!
“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”
“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”
“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.
“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.
“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”
You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.
You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.
As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.
Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.
There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.
“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.
It was going to be a long day.
You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.
“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.
You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.
Dean: Where r u?
So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.
“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”
“But I was just—“
“Your phone, please.”
You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.
“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”
You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—
“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”
—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—
“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.
“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.
“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”
“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.
“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“
“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”
You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.
And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.
You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.
When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.
You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.
“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…
You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.
“Sam! She’s here!”
Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.
“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Dean, I—“
Dean wasn’t listening.
“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.
“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”
You ran past Dean, heading for the library.
“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.
He had enough of a mess to fix already.
No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.
After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—
“Y/N!”
You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.
“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.
“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“
You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.
“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”
You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.
“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“
“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”
“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.
“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“
“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”
“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”
You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.
“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”
“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”
“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”
You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.
“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.
“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz
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Grew in my Heart
It's finally done you guys!!!! This is my take on a foster Pony au, loosely based on this idea from @freak-l0rd-certifed. It's currently unedited but I'll post it here anyways, and then cross post an edited version on my ao3. @pepsicurtis asked to be tagged when it was done based on a snippet I posted earlier, so here you go. This is part 1, part 2 is fully written and will be up tomorrow.
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The lady on the other side of the room is watching him.
That’s okay though. Ponyboy is used to people watching him. Social workers, foster parents, group home staff, police. Everyone watches him all the time but nobody cares, cares for him or about him, so Ponyboy doesn’t mind this lady joining in. He knows he looks weird, with his sticky out ears and the patchy haircut Mr. Fuller gave him and the bruise around his eye. So he understands why this lady is watching him, and doesn't begrudge her for it.  Besides, she looks like a nice lady. Nice ladies don’t usually watch him. If they do they don’t usually look at him with the kindness glowing in the woman’s shining green eyes.
The lady smiles at him and he ducks back into his book, ears burning. She wasn’t supposed to catch him looking.
When he peeks over the top of his copy of Great Expectation a minute later, she’s still watching him, smiling in a way Ponyboy would call amusement if he didn’t know better. He quickly hides again, cursing himself for drawing notice. It’s never a good thing. Never. Better he stay quiet, stay invisible. Invisible kids didn’t get hurt.
He hopes Ms. Summers will come back soon and take him to wherever he’ll be staying next, if only so that he can leave the waiting room, escape from where this nice lady and her nice family are no doubt waiting for them to bring a brand new baby to adopt. Probably one only a few days old, something sweet and cute and new they could love and pamper. Nice people only ever came to the child services offices to pick up babies. Anyone who came to pick up kids was usually about as nice as the people who dropped them off. 
He goes back to his book. Usually it’s easy to escape into the story where he can pretend to be a knight or a hero or anything but stupid, small, unwanted Ponyboy Hewitt, but he can’t seem to concentrate today. It’s not just because of the nice looking lady with the green eyes who keeps watching him, keeping an eye on him the same way she’s been keeping an eye on the three boys who came in with her. His head is also aching something fierce. That last knock from Mr. Fuller was kind of hard. 
Hard enough Ms.Summers thought he should move again anyway.
“Quit fidgeting, Soda,” an authoritative voice from the other side of the room says, and Ponyboy can’t help but glance over. He tells himself it’s because the speaker was kind of loud, but he knows deep down that’s not the case. It’s not because the boy is loud, it’s because he’s cool. He’s a lot bigger than Pony is, and older too, with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders. He could probably look Mr.Fuller square in the face and never be scared, not ever. “We have to show we’re the perfect family or they won’t let us keep Johnny.”
“Really?” The boy who answers has golden blond hair and rosy cheeks with a dimple high in one corner. Pony never really understood what books meant when they talked about eyes twinkling until the boy had pranced into the office a few minutes before, looking like a prince straight from a fairytale. His eyes aren’t twinkling now though: instead, they’re shining with worry. His shadow, a smaller boy with jet black hair and tan skin, looks the same, eyes wide and terrified in his peaked face. “They can’t do that just ‘cause I’m sittin’ wrong, can they mom?”
He turns anxiously to the nice lady who smiles and smooths down his hair.
“Of course not honey,” she soothes, “we don’t gotta prove we’re perfect to keep Johnny, we just gotta prove we love him. And we do.”
She turns her smile on the dark haired boy who flushes and ducks his head shyly, looking unfathomably pleased. Ponyboy swallows hard and looks away, his own ears reddening. It’s not fair for him to hate the dark haired boy, he knows it isn’t, but it doesn’t matter. In that moment, he kind of hates him anyway. 
The woman’s gentle smile has confirmed what he suspected all along. She’s a nice mom, the kind he’s only ever read about in storybooks. She probably kisses those boys goodnight- even the big one, even if he pretended it wasn’t cool- and probably smells like cinnamon and bakes birthday cakes sometimes, puts bandages on cuts, and never slaps them, not ever. 
He wants Ms. Summers to come back. He wants to leave. He doesn’t want to sit here and watch a boy his own age get adopted by the kind of family he wishes he could have more than anything in the world. 
The blonde boy sticks his tongue out at the cool one and makes a fart noise.
“See Darry? They ain’t gonna take Johnny! You’re stupid and wrong!”
“Sodapop Patrick Curtis!” A man Ponyboy assumed must be the nice lady’s husband and the boys’ father boomed, “What have I told you about using that kind of language towards your brother?”
“That it's not how we speak to our family,” the blonde boy, Sodapop, says like he was reading off a teleprompter. Clearly, this was not the first time he’d heard that particular reprimand, “but dad, I was only defending my other brother.”
“Be that as it may,” Mr.Curtis said, “I don’t want to hear that language from you any more.” He sounded stern, but his eyes were still glinting proudly and there was a smile hiding somewhere near the corner of his mouth. Not a scary dad then. A good one.
“Yeah Soda,” the older boy, Darry, grinned, seeming unperturbed by the insult. He was real handsome, Pony thought. If he was Sodapop he’d never call that Darry boy stupid, not ever. “Save that language for socs. Or Two-bit when he’s playin’ poker against Dally.”
Sodapop laughed then, any traces of animosity disappearing, Johnny grinning quietly beside him. 
Ponyboy decides he’s done watching them be happy, and goes to the washroom.
He does his business, standing on tiptoe to reach the sink when he’s done because it’s meant for adults not for kids and there's no footstool. He can’t reach the soap, even when he jumps, so he just settles for rinsing extra long. The paper towel dispenser is also too high to reach so he dries his hands on his pants and goes back to the waiting room. 
“Oh honey, wait,” he doesn’t realize the nice lady is speaking to him until she’s kneeling in front of him, tugging his shirt from where he hadn’t noticed it had gotten twisted and tucked into his pants, pulling it out and smoothing it down nicely, “there you go. All handsome again.”
She smiles, looking like sunshine incarnate, and Ponyboy kind of wants to die.
“Thank you.” He mumbles, sure he must be redder than a tomato, then flees back to his chair on the other side of the waiting room. They’re all watching him now, the nice lady and her nice husband, and the three boys who are now all sitting in a circle on the floor, playing a game of cards. 
He opens Great Expectations to a random page and stares at it hard, trying very hard not to cry. He’s almost seven years old, he’s not a baby anymore. He will not cry just because one lady was nice to him and now her perfect family is staring at him. He won't. 
“Hi!” Suddenly, blonde, beautiful Sodapop is in front of him, grinning like Ponyboy is the best thing he’s ever seen ever, “I’m Soda. Wanna play cards with us?”
He wants to, more than anything, but he knows if he does it’ll just feel worse when they leave and he doesn’t go with them , or when Ms. Summers comes to drag him away to whoever will bother keeping him for the next few weeks, so he can’t.
He shakes his head, unable to actually say no, and Soda deflates, eager grin melting into an unhappy pout, shoulders curling forward, and the twinkle in his eye dimming. He looks like Pony just ruined his whole day with one shake of his head. 
“Ok,” he sighs, dramatic and world weary, and it would seem like an act if his eyes weren’t entirely genuine, “if you change your mind, you can c’mon over anytime. It would be so much more fun with another person.”
He rejoins the other two boys who shoot curious looks Pony’s way, but he ignores them, looking back at his book. He’s not reading though. He can’t. Instead he’s listening to the boys playing cards, wishing more than anything that he could join them.
“I win.” Dark haired Johnny proclaims for the third time and Soda throws down his cards with a dramatic groan, while Darry just laughs. He seems real nice, not like the big boys at the group homes who liked to steal Pony’s books and shove him around. He hadn’t gotten mad at Soda or Johnny even once, not even when they were playing Go Fish and Soda cheated by peeking at his cards. 
“You little shark,” Darry ruffled Johnny's dark hair, the smaller boy flinching a little before leaning into the touch, “how do you keep doin’ that, huh?”
Johnny shrugged. “It’s a secret.”
“You’re cheatin’!” Soda accused.
“Am not!”
“Are too! No one wins as much as you.”
“I’m just good at cards without cheatin’.”
Soda huffed. “You’re lucky you’re my brother now or I’d fight you.”
“I’d win.” Johnny boasts, and suddenly he looks fierce, chin jutting and eyes fiery, like every kid in every home who fought grownups and just ended up beaten down worse. 
“That’s enough,” Darry pulls the two apart, practically picking them each up with one hand, “quit arguin' or I’m putin’ the cards away.”
“No!” Soda throws himself to the ground, arm draped dramatically across his forehead, “I’ll die of boredom!”
“Then sit up and be good,” Darry tells him, and Soda scrambles to do as he’s told. Pony feels his own spine straightening. It’s just because he’s tired, he tells himself.  It has nothing to do with wanting Darry to look at him with the same approval he looks at Soda and Johnny with. He needs to stretch out a bit, that’s all.
“Y’know,” Darry says, disarmingly casual, easily shuffling the cards the way Pony always wanted to but could never manage, the movement too deft for his clumsy fingers, “there's so many more games we could play with four players.” 
If he didn’t know better Pony would swear Darry was looking at him sideways as he said it, grinning conspiratorially like they were sharing a joke. 
“Euchre…gin rummy…spades…signals…”
Pony’s heart jumped. He loved signals. 
It was practically another invitation right? And Soda had said he could join anytime if he changed his mind…surely one game wouldn’t hurt. 
He scoots forward a bit on the chair, considering. 
“Well?” Suddenly Darry- handsome, cool Darry- is grinning right at him, one eyebrow raised, “You in or not?”
And well….that was an actual invitation. From a big boy no less! Usually boys like Darry wanted nothing to do with him.
Pony could feel what was surely a far too eager grin spreading over his face and he nodded, quickly taking a spot on the floor in between Soda and Johnny. Darry’s grin turned triumphant, like he was the one who’d just been invited to play cards by a cool stranger. 
“Nice. What’s your name kiddo?”
“Ponyboy.” He mumbles, bracing himself for laughter that never comes. Instead Darry just nods, starting to deal cards with ease. 
“Tuff name. I’m Darry, and this here’s Johnny.” 
Pony offered a shy smile in response to Johnny’s friendly nod, earlier vitriol forgotten. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault he was lucky. Pony shouldn’t hate him for it. 
“You already met Soda.”
Darry gives Soda a fondly exasperated look, and Pony focuses very hard on the cards being dealt so he won’t have to look at their faces.
Unsure of what to say, he just nods. Luckily, Darry keeps talking.
“Well Ponyboy, I reckon since you just joined you get to pick the game.”
“R-really?”
“Sure.” Darry smiled kindly. Golly he was nice. “We’ll play a few rounds and then switch it up if any of us are getting bored.”
“Can-” Ponyboy hesitated. Darry nods, encouraging him to continue, “can we play signals?”
“Sure. You okay to be on a team with me?”
“Yes,” Pony could hardly believe his luck. Not only were they playing his favourite game, but Darry wanted to be on a team with him!
“Ok,” Soda chirped, “me’n Johnny are going over there so you don’t listen to us pick our signals like cheaters!”
“Soda!” Mr Curtis warned.
“I’m bein’ nice!”
Pony giggled. 
“Ignore him,” Darry advised, scooting over to sit beside him, “I wish I could say he’s just bein’ crazy ‘cause he’s excited, but the truth is he’s always like that. He ain’t really mean though, just has too much energy.”
“I know,” Pony tells him, “I seen mean before. He ain’t it. If he was mean he’d have taken my book or followed me to the bathroom and put my head in the toilet.”
A horrified gasp makes him jump. He’d momentarily forgotten all about sunshiney Mrs.Curtis, but now she’s staring at him in horror, eyes filled with rage. 
What did he do? Did she not want him to be telling her nice golden sons about stuff like that? 
“I-I’m sorry I-” he can feel his ears burning and wishes more than anything he’d stayed on that hard plastic chair where he was safe instead of getting drawn in by the light of the family in front of him. 
“Whoa, hey,” Darry catches him by the arm before he can scramble to his feet, grip not bruising like he’s used to but gentle, reassuring, “where are you going? We haven’t picked a signal yet.”
His smile is so hopeful. Hesitantly, Pony settles back down. 
“Ok.”
“Well?” Darry nudges him gently, carefully. It seems to Ponyboy that someone so big shouldn’t be able to do that and not hurt him just a little bit, but somehow Darry manages it. “What signal do you think we should do?”
Pony glances across the room at where Soda is gesturing exaggeratedly and talking at Johnny a mile a minute.
“Something small,” he decides, “something they won’t notice.”
“Good thinking,” Darry’s approval feels like sitting in the sunshine and eating ice cream and reading a book all at once, “how about��rubbing our noses?”
He demonstrates, rubbing a finger under his nose like he’s scratching an itch and Ponyboy nods, copying the action. 
“Perfect.”
He raises his left hand then. Taps his ear. Waits a few seconds. Taps his ear again.
“What are you doing?” Darry wonders. 
“I have a trick,” Ponyboy informs him.
“Oh?” Darry’s raising a single eyebrow again, looking intrigued. A swell of unearned pride starts in Ponyboy’s chest. 
“Yep,” Pony nods, “they’re watching us right now.”
Darry follows his gaze across the room to where Johnny is watching them out of the corner of his eye, while acting for all the world like he’s still focused on Sodapop. 
“So,” Ponyboy continues. He taps his ear again, “if we do a fake signal now, like we’re practicing, and then do it while we’re playing they’ll call signal and get themselves disqualified and we’ll win.”
“Huh,” Darry reaches up and taps his own ear, “good thinkin’ kid.”
Pony glows.
“We’re ready,” Soda announces a second later, dragging Johnny behind him, “and we have the best signal ever. You’ll never guess it.”
“We’ll see.” Darry challenges, flipping the first card off the deck, and the game begins.
Pony checks his own hand. Two jacks, a two, and a seven. Deciding to go for jacks he passes the two facedown and slides it left to Johnny, picking up the ten Soda placed down for him on the other side.
He passes and trades cards for a few seconds, managing to pick up a third jack on the way. When it’s been long enough it’s not suspicious, he reaches up and taps his ear, trying to make it seem like he’s scratching an itch.
The trick works. 
“Block!” Johnny cries triumphantly, pointing at him and Pony grins, shaking his head. 
“Nope!”
“What?” That’s Sodapop, “We’re out? But-but I’m with Johnny! Johnny always wins!”
“Guess not this time,” Darry grins, raising a hand. It takes a second for Pony to realize he’s reaching out for a high five instead of to cuff him, but when he does he reaches out eagerly, tapping Darry’s palm with his own.
“How did you do that?” Johnny wonders, head tilted in confusion, “I saw you tapping your ear earlier when you were making your signal.”
“It was a trick!” Pony grins. Darry is pleased, and they just won a card game, and no one here has gotten properly mad at him at all. 
Johnny shakes his head, grinning ruefully. “Well it was a good one.”
Soda declared he wanted a rematch, so they played a few more rounds, until Johnny figured out their trick and then both teams had so many fake signals and everyone was too scared to block anyone and could hardly remember their real signals from their fake ones. Darry was just proposing they switch to playing crazy eights when Ms. Summers hurried out of the office, looking harried as usual.
“Oh! Ponyboy,” She looks surprised to see him sitting on the floor, “don’t go botherin’ these nice folks now. I know you’ve had a long day, and I promise I’m workin’ as hard as I can to figure things out so just sit tight and be good a few minutes longer. I just got a few more calls to make and I’ll get you some lunch, alright? C’mon and sit properly now, that’s a good boy.” 
She pulls him to his feet, not roughly exactly, but carelessly, the way he’s used to, and he ducks his head, shoulders curling automatically as she frog marches him back to the plastic chair in the corner of the waiting room she’d parked him in at seven o'clock this morning.
“He ain’t botherin’ us!” Suddenly Soda is on his feet, glaring at Ms. Summers. “We invited him to play. We’re havin’ fun.”
“He’s really no trouble,” Mrs. Curtis smiles, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. Her voice is as sugar sweet as ever but there’s something hard in her eyes nevertheless as she stares Ms. Summers down, “the boys are all havin’ fun playing together and I have no problem keepin’ an eye on him for you. He’s a good boy, like you said.”
She turns the full force of her smile on him, her eyes suddenly all softness, and Ponyboy finds himself wondering what it would be like if somebody looked at him like that every day, like he was something instead of nothing.
“Well, if you’re sure, I suppose that's fine. You be good Pony,” Ms. Summers says, and then she’s gone again, back into the office, back to making phone calls to find someone, anyone, willing to take him in.
Pony stands where she left him, half dragged across the room, lost in the waiting room he’d spend what felt like half his life in.
“That lady,” Soda says, “was a bitch.”
Darry’s eyebrows shoot up, and Soda grins cheekily over his shoulder in a way that says he fully expects a reprimand, but to Ponyboy’s surprise Mr.Curtis just nods slowly.
“Y'know son, I think in this case you might be right.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Mrs. Curtis says, but it’s so half-hearted even Ponyboy can tell. Her eyes are fixed on Ms.Summers’ door, lips pressed into a thin line, and Pony gets the feeling she’s real mad but hiding it real well.
“She don’t know what to do with me,” Pony finds himself defending his social worker. She ain’t mean really, ain't even a bad person. She’s just busy. Too busy to really care. “It ain’t her fault. I cause her a lotta problems.”
“I have a very hard time believing that,” Mrs. Curtis says, “I don’t think you could cause problems if you tried.”
He could. He wasn’t like Curly from the group home, who did everything he possibly could and then some to cause problems, but Pony did create them sometimes. One time he’d burned Mrs.Delvine’s sheets when he was ironing because she hadn’t given him dinner the night before. And he’d put half a shaker of salt in Mr.Fuller’s soup after he gave him this stupid haircut. But he never tried to cause problems for Ms. Summers and he still caused them anyway.
He shrugs. “No one wants me. It’s her job to find someone who’ll put up with me. I can’t blame her for bein’ tired.”
“You’re still a little boy,” Mrs.Curtis shakes her head, and usually Ponyboy hates being called little but he finds he doesn’t mind too much when she says it, “she shouldn’t be takin’ any of her frustrations out on you.”
Pony wants to tell her that his own mother didn’t want to be stuck with him so he can hardly blame his social worker for feeling the same way. He wants to tell her about how tired he is and how much his head hurts and how hungry he is. He wants to tell her a lot of things. He doesn’t.
“Oh honey,” he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he’s wrapped in a warm hug, held protectively against Mrs. Curtis’ chest, his sobs muffled against the stretched collar of her pretty yellow dress. He’s sure he must be getting snot on her, but she doesn’t seem to mind, holding him closer when he starts to squirm away and apologize, cooing to him until he settles down, “oh honey.”
She scoops him up then, because she’s a grown up and he’s still pretty small for six years old, and she sets him on her knee and kisses his forehead, and even if it won’t last and he will never feel this again after today, for once he knows what it’s like to be comforted and loved by a mother. 
Golly he’s tired.
“You just have a sleep now,” she pulls his head down to rest against her shoulder, running a gentle hand through his shorn off hair, “you just have a good sleep and don’t worry about a thing.” 
He feels his eyelids drooping. She drops a soft kiss on his forehead, her fingers never ceasing their soothing motions in his hair.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” he hears her say as he drifts off, “I promise. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”
He sleeps.
37 notes · View notes
theliteralmoon · 2 years
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One thing I miss while I’m traveling/away from home is cooking!! It fuels my life force
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lilgynt · 1 year
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i’m soooo talented i can cry about a fake birthday’s party almost a month after my birthday
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#personal#my dad was having a delusion about my birthday and i was home alone tee hee#no so get off early from work bc i have to go in tomorrow but hey that’s some overtime#anyway so i get home and watch dad so my mom and the lady living with us can go grab dinner plus relax#but like 3 hours in and my dads having a delusional about my birthday#so i call my mom bc i can’t tell like hey surprise brithday dinner or and she’s IMMEDIATELY like i’m on my way#like okay. not what i asked. and then i asked and she’s like no he’s just crazy#come back and my dads pushed his chair out and is just walking and i’m like oh fuck not again#so anyway think she’s on her way home from a twenty minutes location#30 minutes pass and she’s still not here and dads getting worse#he’s demanding to go into my room to get my gifts m#btw my room is a mess bc i haven’t had time to clean since getting a new job actually :) and also moving out and back in#so i’m like worried one he’s gonna break soemthing of mine or hurt himself and he won’t fucking listen that he can’t go in#we compromise it works out#then he’s demeanding to go outside to get in and im like dad we’re inside the house already#and he’s insisting about the catering company and how i always have to plan my own stuff and never have fun and he wants this perfect#for me which like. great sentiment. i’m crying and arguing bc you’re not helping me#aka sitting down and he’s getting upset with me and it’s like i cannot give you the impossible#mom comes home and i chew her out in front of the lady living with us so classy on my part#but i go back and im like im not trying to be mean to you. but you need to help me if you want my help#don’t say ur on ur way unless ur own ur way. and she’s like well you know the place and im like then say ur in line. well i had to get a#tip. then say ur getting a tip. don’t say ur own ur way unless you are#and i thought she was sad so i’m like i love you but i just need this behavior to stop#and she’s starts laughing bc i’m treating her like she’s my kid and i’m forgetting myself#and i’m telling her well you’re forcing me to#and im like i can move out again ( she doesn’t know that i probably cannot emotionally)#and that if she expects adult help she cannot treat me like a child#and i’m not saying i have free reign in the house but i am saying you can’t have it both ways. just communicate with me#and also asked if she could see how this was mean or rude to me and she was like yeah but reluctantly and all but rolling her eyes#i’m not saying she can’t have fun just talk to me. told her i’m not playing these games during my vacation
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raeathnos · 4 months
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#hello hi I am so fucking burnt out 🫠 pls forgive me if I’m inactive for a bit or real fucking weird if I am here#I was supposed to have a 3 day weekend but an hour before I was done it got turned into another 6 day week soooooo 🙃#we had terrible storms yesterday and I worked with no power and then came home to no power (it didn’t come back till 8:40pm hELP)#cat had a vet appointment which ended up being super emotionally draining and upsetting#his heart disease has worsened and he’s on more medication#and though none of these things are ever set in stone it’s looking more and more likely that he won’t live as long as a typical cat#I uh thought I was okay and then just kind of completely broke down sobbing last night#and I can’t really think too hard about it without bursting right back into tears#he’s only 6 and a half and the sweetest cat and it’s not fair#trying to stay positive but I feel so bad for him#gonna love him as much as I can for as long as he’s here which is hopefully still for a long while#it’s not a dire situation it’s just the disease progressing but like it’s still hard#dealing with too much rn#we were expecting the vet bill to be about $400 but then opted to do a few extra things and it pushed it to $750 so ouch#we’re fine we had it saved but you know how it is#he expensive but he’s worth every penny <3#I also injured my knee so that’s fun- tore something in it I think#it’s not as bad as it was but it’s still painful and swollen and hard to bend#my dumbass is going hiking tomorrow despite this because it’s the first weekend that isn’t supposed to rain since like March#so as soon as I get out of work tomorrow I’m fucking off into the woods for a few hours to go be feral#probably bad for the knee but it’ll be good for the mental health#works only a half shiift tomorrow too and I’ll be done in the am so it should still feel like a long weekend#kinda bummed about it still tho#pls stop depending on me to pick up everyone’s slack kthnxbye#I’m so fucking tired 🫠#on the bright side I have next weekend requested off and it’s only gonna be a 4 day work week because of the holiday#there’s a rock and mineral show here next weekend and I am very excited#gonna buy some neat rocks hopefully 👍🏻#and assuming the weather is good next weekend and my knee doesn’t worsen I’m gonna fuck off into the woods again afterwards to be feral#gotta go rot in the woods for a bit to fix the soul; yall know how it is
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fastandcarlos · 3 months
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Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: fans are beginning to notice your absence around the paddock, little do they know the amazing reason you’re finding yourself hiding away
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liked by schecoperez, danielricciardo and 1,945,053 others
maxverstappen1: spending time with some of my favourite little humans this week in monaco 🏎️🏁
189,492 comments
username1: yet another race week without an appearance from y/n
username2: pls just give us the update we’re desperate for max
landonorris: are you there favourite human being??
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris always the favourite uncle
username3: I can’t wait to see this man with kids of his own
username4: max as a dad sounds soooo cute
schecoperez: it was lovely to see them in the paddock again this week!!
lewishamilton: a little birdie secretly told me that they’re actually a fan of me
maxverstappen1: @/lewishamilton whoever told you that is a liar!
ynusername: wish I could be there with you guys 🩷
username5: omg y/n
username6: is this a sign??? are they definitely still together???
username7: there’s still hope yet…
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liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1 and 582,010 others
redbullracing: all smiles for max as he finds himself in pole position heading into tomorrow 🏆
tagged: maxverstappen1
39,403 comments
username8: was it ever really in doubt??
maxverstappen1: thanks for all your support team! ❤️
username9: he smiles the way I smile seeing y/n interacting with him yesterday
username10: I bet he still wishes y/n was there though…
ynusername: so proud!! bring it home max 🏆
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I’ll do it just for you 💕💕
username11: so how come y/n can comment but can’t be bothered to show up and actually support max
username12: @/username11 you can still be supportive from a distance!
schecoperez: congrats max!!
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liked by username14, f1wags and 14,403 others
formula1updates: max came on stream tonight and reassured everyone that y/n is doing well and that hopefully she’ll be back in the paddock soon. sending you lots of love y/n ❤️🏎️
472 comments
username13: I really hope that it’s nothing serious
username14: WE LOVE YOU Y/N TAKE AS MUCH TIME AS YOU NEED
username15: thank you max for reassuring us all 🥺
username16: anyone else notice how he sounded like he was tearing up a bit talking about y/n on his stream earlier
username17: at least we know they’re both okay, that’s the main thing
username18: I can’t wait to see y/n back in the paddock too 🙏🏻
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liked by carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 749,508 others
ynusername: the reason we’ve been a little quiet lately…we’re so happy to share with you all that the first two legged verstappen baby is on their way very soon 💕🥰
tagged: maxverstappen1
48,399 comments
landonorris: stfu you guys, congratulations!! can’t believe you kept this a secret from me!!
maxverstappen1: cannot wait for this new adventure with you, couldn’t ask for anyone better than you 🩷🥰
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 you’re gonna be the best mumma!!
username19: woah baby verstappen!!
danielricciardo: uncle daniel is ready to spoil this baby rotten!
redbullracing: emailing the suppliers to order a thousand red bull baby grows as we speak 😂
username20: I’m not even the one having a baby but I feel like all my dreams have come true
alex_albon: congratulations to you both…lily puts her name down for babysitting duties btw
ynusername: @/alex_albon she can have all the baby cuddles in the world!
oscarpiastri: this is the best news - can’t wait to meet your little one!
username21: preparing myself to be spammed by dad max soon! 🔥
georgerussell63: always knew you guys would be the first to settle…so happy for you both!
carlossainz55: beyond excited for you both!!
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 839,403 others
maxverstappen1: making the most of all these bump cuddles and mornings with my best friend, pregnancy really is a beautiful thing!
tagged: ynusername
93,492 comments
username22: I feel like I’m watching the cutest romcom with these posts ☺️
landonorris: how come you never let me rest my head in your lap and play with my hair??
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris start carrying my child and I might start listening
username23: these are the softest photos to ever exist 🥺
logansargeant: way to make the rest of us feel single guys 😂
ynusername: thank you for always taking the best care of me - I could never do this without you 🥰
username24: y/n and max reenacting every fanfic ever made 😭
username25: they’re just a dream 🥺
charles_leclerc: why is alex sending me these photos telling me I need to be more like max…
maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc I’ll give you some tips next race weekend 😂
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liked by danielricciardo, alexandrasaintmleux and 682,190 others
ynusername: people often ask me what I see in max and why I decided he’d be the perfect father for my children, well, here you are…😂
tagged: maxverstappen1
78,392 comments
username26: omg y/n this is amazing!
landonorris: officially my favourite instagram post ever!!
maxverstappen1: why you always gotta do me dirty 😂😂
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 you still look handsome in my eyes love
username27: shout-out to y/n for always finding a way to humiliate max
alex_albon: you’re lucky you’re pregnant, brave posting these y/n 😂
ynusername: @/alex_albon why else do you think I waited until he was on the plane to montreal 😉
username28: yet another reminder why these two are my favourite couple ever
georgerussell63: how do you always manage to get away with posting stuff like this 😂
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liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,249,504 others
maxverstappen1: a post full of appreciation for my beautiful wife, you blow me away everyday with how well you’re coping, I couldn’t be prouder of you 🩷🥺
tagged: ynusername
59,492 comments
username29: I just want a boy who loves me as much as max loves y/n
ynusername: thank you for always being by my side, I’d be lost without you ❤️
landonorris: y/n honestly deserves a medal for putting up with you!
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris no one asked for you to appear in my comments section thank you 😂
username30: becoming a dad has made max soppy but I’m not complaining
lewishamilton: can we just take a moment to appreciate how amazing y/n looks in pregnancy
ynusername: @/lewishamilton all thanks to my personal stylist 😘
username31: officially in my feels now
lance_stroll: not long to go for you guys now surely!
username32: I don’t think I can wait another three months for this baby to arrive
username33: how am I this jealous of a couple that I adore??
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liked by landonorris, schecoperez and 493,507 others
ynusername: bumpin’ along nicely 💕
48,492 comments
maxverstappen1: I miss you so much, can’t wait to get home and give you all the cuddles in the world!
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 we miss you too - I’m officially unable to tie my shoelaces now 😂
username34: 😭😭😭😭
username35: I literally can’t cope anymore
schecoperez: max does not stop talking about you btw
ynusername: @/schecoperez tell him to shut up and concentrate on the race!
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I just can’t help it…I’m so excited!!
username36: I feel like I’m scrolling through pinterest at this point 🥺
carmenmmundt: I’m at home this weekend…omw now!
ynusername: @/carmenmmundt door is unlocked, non-alcoholic wine fresh out the fridge 🥂
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liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 1,593,597 others
maxverstappen1: the end of another season, so proud to add another driver’s championship to the collection, but most of all I’m so proud of my wife. no rest for me, off season this year is spent preparing those finishing touches for our family of three ❤️🏆🎉
tagged: redbullracing and ynusername
148,403 comments
ynusername: could not be prouder of you - now let’s go and have a baby!!
username37: max’s year just keeps getting better and better!
landonorris: congrats bro…looking forward to the baby updates soon 💪🏻
danielricciardo: looking forward to stopping by the apartment to introduce your child to their favourite uncle!
schecoperez: @/danielricciardo I think you’ll find that role is mine
username38: never in doubt champ 🏆
username39: and now for the baby spam…
username40: can’t wait to see you become a dad max!
charles_leclerc: you could’ve let me have this one…you’re winning in life anyway 😂
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liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 2,943,953 others
maxverstappen1: welcome to the world little one, the missing piece to our jigsaw is here and we’ve never felt more complete ☺️
189,472 comments
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
3K notes · View notes
inknopewetrust · 2 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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disneyprincemuke · 11 months
Text
best dress * fem!driver
when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver
warnings: none
notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
-> the aftermath
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she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.
she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.
“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”
she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.
“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”
lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”
“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”
“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”
“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”
oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”
“exploring the city!”
“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”
“you’re exploring the city in heels?”
she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”
“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”
“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”
lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”
“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”
oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”
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“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”
“oh, i s-“
“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”
“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.
“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“
“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”
“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.
“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”
max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”
oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?
“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”
“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”
though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”
but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”
“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”
“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”
“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”
lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.
lando slouches. “why not?”
“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”
george tilts his head. “what?”
oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”
“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”
“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.
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after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.
“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”
“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.
the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.
george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”
“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”
once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.
“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”
“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”
george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”
oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”
“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”
they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.
they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”
“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”
“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”
max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.
“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.
to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”
george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”
“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”
“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”
“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”
“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.
“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”
“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”
“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”
the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”
“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”
max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”
“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”
oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”
max shrugs. “i guess.”
sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”
“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”
logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”
“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”
she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”
max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”
“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”
“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”
sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”
“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”
“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”
“i don’t believe you!”
“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.
max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”
“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”
“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”
oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”
“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”
“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”
“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”
she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”
sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”
“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”
her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”
oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”
“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.
“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife
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seonghwaddict · 5 months
Text
the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was good, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making him sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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jax is THE "obsessed with his girl when she wears sundresses or those slip nightgowns" like theres a CRIMINAL lack of fanfic around him going bark bark awooga over that shit do u agree with me
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Sundress.
it’s sundress season. jax can’t keep his hands to himself.
pairing - jax teller x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. jax is a terror.
word count - 1.5/2k maybe? i’ll check later.
authors note - you’re so right. that man is not surviving sundress season.
masterlist. inbox.
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You felt it as soon as he walked in.
There’s always an atmosphere between you and Jax. A tension that’s alive, crackling, buzzing with anticipation of itself.
You’ve been waiting for the honeymoon phase to wear off for years. It never has.
All evening, he’s been watching you.
Careful, concentrated blue eyes repeatedly raking over your figure. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Eventually, it’s making it too hard to work. You ask one of the girls to take over the bar and stride across the space, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him into the back room.
“Okay baby, I like it when you-”
“Cut it out.”
He stops in his tracks, slightly taken aback.
“Huh?”
“You heard me, Jax. Cut it the fuck out.”
He leans against the wall, cool as ever, eyes still wandering.
“Cut what out?”
“That!” you scold, smacking his chest. “The eye fucking. I’m trying to work.”
“I’m just looking at you.”
“You are not just looking at me. You look like you’re going to bend me over the bar at any given moment. Stop it.”
“I can’t help it, darlin’.”
He takes a step forward, sliding his hands across your hips and pulling you into him.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty in this dress. It’s takin’ everything in me to not rip it off you.”
You try to stand your ground, but his warm body pressing into yours is making it difficult.
“You can do whatever you want to me when we get home,” you tease, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “When we get home.”
“That a promise?”
“It is if you can cool it with the stares. You’re scaring people.”
“Good.”
He kisses you roughly, hands migrating down to palm at your ass. You moan into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck to stay steady.
“Jax,” you hiss as you pull away. “Everyone’s gonna think we’re fucking back here. Behave.”
“I like it when you tell me to behave,” he smirks, smoothing out the skirt of your dress.
“Behave,” you repeat, tugging his hair roughly. His eyes close in bliss and for a moment, you debate just letting him have you now.
Remembering the entire reason for this conversation, you slap his cheek lightly.
“Best behaviour until the end of my shift. You hear me, Jackson?”
“Yes ma’am.”
He mock salutes you before stealing a quick kiss. Opening the door for you, he smacks your ass as you walk by, laughing when you turn around to glare at him.
“I mean it.”
“Oh I know, baby.”
To his credit, he reels it in. Slightly.
He’s still watching your every move, but with a little less intensity than before. You catch his eyes occasionally, winking as you grin. He shakes his head, beaming smile on his face telling you everything you need to know.
As the night comes to a close, people start to vacate the bar and make their way home, drunk and merry. Jax sticks around, arm slung over the back of the booth as he watches you clean.
“You two gonna be alright?”
“Yeah, Chibs, we’re good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving, as you hear his bike roar to life.
As soon as Jax has confirmation he’s gone, he’s getting up, sauntering over to where you’re wiping down the bar top.
“What’s my prize?”
“Hmm?”
You look up at him with big doe eyes and he almost melts, leaning across the wood towards you.
“What’s my prize? For behaving myself?”
“You’re insufferable,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to behave yourself.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You shake your head and lean down to throw the rag under the sink. When you stand up, Jax is pressed against you, body warm and firm.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
His big hands cradle your face, rough and gun calloused.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty.”
You flush, heat rising across your chest. Jax lunges in, smashing his lips to yours and pushing you up against the bar. The lip of the wood is digging into your back as he presses you into it further, rocking his hips into yours as he kisses you.
You gasp as he bites down on your lip, so he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and the gum he chews because he knows you like it. You tangle your fingers into his hair, trying to plaster yourself to him.
Jax leans down and presses open mouthed kisses to your ear, your neck, your collarbones, your chest. No skin goes left untouched as you tilt your head to give him more access. He smirks at how quickly you’ve relented.
“I know you wanted this,” he murmurs against your throat. “Wanted it just as bad as me, didn’t you?”
When you don’t respond, he snakes a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Jax. Please.”
He presses his lips into the junction of your shoulder as his hand slips underneath your dress. He traces you over your underwear, cupping you as he chuckles.
“Filthy girl. So fuckin’ wet.”
You drop your head forward into his chest, trying to take deep breaths so you don’t pass out.
“Can’t take my time with you like I want to,” he murmurs. “Don’t want anyone walking in and seeing you like this.”
In the blink of an eye he’s spinning you around, hand on your shoulder blades to push you down onto the bar top. He flips the skirt of your dress up, bunching it around your waist.
“Been thinkin’ about this all day. Pretty fuckin’ girl.”
Jax pulls your underwear to the side as he fumbles with his jeans, pushing them down just enough. You feel the warmth of him behind you, sliding through your wet heat with ease.
“Please,” you whine. “Don’t tease.”
“Needy baby.”
His tone is so patronising, so condescending, that on any other day you’d slap him. But in this current moment, the only thing you can thing about how is how you might die if he doesn’t fuck you soon.
“Okay, honey. I’ll give you what you want. Only because you look so fuckin’ gorgeous in this dress.”
He slides himself home as both of you groan. You rest your head on your folded arms on the bar as his hands find your hips, setting a brutal pace instantly.
His rhythm is consistent, deep thrusts reverberating through the core of you. Your knees threaten to give out as he knocks your entire body forward, his hips smacking into yours.
His mouth is running constantly, spewing filth right into your ear as he breathes down your neck.
“Prettiest fuckin’ girl I’ve ever seen. This goddamn dress. Drivin’ me insane.”
“Yeah darlin’, just like that. Fuck, baby. S’good.”
“You feel like heaven, fuck. Atta girl.”
“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, there we go.”
You can’t do anything but take it, babbling nonsense right back at him. He chuckles, snaking his hand around your front to circle your clit.
His fingers are your undoing, clenching around him like a vice as your legs give out. All you can do is whine his name, all high pitched and breathy.
“Fuck, baby.”
Jax comes as soon as he feels you, groaning as he rests his head on your back. He squeezes your hips a couple of times, kissing across your skin.
You’re both revelling in your post orgasm bliss when the door flies open, hitting the wall and startling you both.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, lovebirds.”
Chibs is grinning, laughing as he looks around the booth where he was sitting. He finds his keys on the floor, holding them up as he shakes his head at the two of you.
Jax pulls out of you and buttons himself up, smoothing your dress down to preserve your decency. You hide your face in his chest as he chuckles, the sound rumbling through the both of you.
“See ya tomorrow!” the Scotsman yells as he leaves, stupid smile on his face.
“What did I tell you about behaving?”
Jax can’t help but laugh at you, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head.
“Let’s go home, pretty girl. Wanna fuck you in this dress a couple more times.”
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@lauratang @ladyjbrekker @myhappyplaceofstuff
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luveline · 5 months
Note
If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
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teaweltzer · 5 months
Text
Sending Stone Messages
A list for me that I want to update as new ones come in! Which w/ Dorian back, hopefully not so much (But i think I found all of them so far)
Bonus Ep 6 - Orym gripping the sending stone while Dorian was away
Ep 16 Fearne - right after Dorian leaves 
Ep 22 Orym — “We’re leaving Jrusar, heading southeast. Following the Treshi thread further. You’ve been missed. Hope you’re well.
Dorian — “Hey, sorry. Was sleeping. Thanks. Miss you guys too. Shit got crazy here too. Floating bar, I’ll tell you later. 
Ep 31  Orym — “Hey friend. Missing you here. Could really use your special brand of optimism right now. Don’t know where you are. Hope you’re happy. Bye now.”
Dorian — “Hey! Floating bar got a little weird. Took awhile to land it. This side of the fam is keeping me busy. Miss you all too- Don’t die!”
Bonus Ep 33 - Sending stone falling from Orym's hand as he dies from Otohan
Ep 40  Orym — “Hey. Yios bound. Found them- their killers. Bigger than we thought. Read rough, Dorian. Eshteross is dead. Glad you’re not here, wish you were anyway.”
Ep 41  Dorian (via Robbie)— “Oh Orym~ My heart aches I cannot be there to help you. Find strength, stay steadfast. Sending you fairer winds. …. Is this thing on or-“
Ep 49 Orym — “Dorian. Update. People we’re chasing unleashing hell in a week. We’re headed there now. Odds not good. More tomorrow. Where are you?
Dorian — “Orym! With the rest of the Crown Keepers in Tal’Dorei. Opal’s getting a little dark. Little busy at the moment.. I don’t even know how to get to you.”
Ep 49 Orym -- "Hey buddy. I have a weird request from the other side of the ocean. Can you see the leylines? Is your night sky lit up? Ash says, "Hi." You'll know if you see it. Dorian -- "Yeah, it's, It's real colorful up here, too. I'd take it in and enjoy the display if things weren't so tense at the moment.. Tell Ashton I say hi."
Ep 49 Orym — “Listen, what’s going on over here is really bad. Get the group, get underground. Stay there until you hear from me again… Miss you”
Dorian — “I'll see what I can do. There’s plenty of places underground, I’m sure. It's a little hairy on this end too. You take care of yourself. Be careful”
Ep 59  Orym — “Dorian?? Can you hear me? what’s the sky look like where you are? Tell me you’re okay-“
Ep. 63 Orym — “Dorian. still alive, by the skin of our teeth. want to talk more. you know where Dariax is?’
Bonus I miss you - Ep. 79  "I really miss Dorian and sometimes I think that's okay and sometimes it isn't."
Ep 86 Orym — “Dorian, we’re alive. Been to the moon, going back. Find the tempest. If I don’t get the chance again, I’ve really missed you.”
Ep 92 Orym — "We're home. Can you hear me? I'm northeast of Bassuras. Can you get there? I'm... struggling. Sorry. Can you get here? Fuck, I miss you."
Ep 93 Dorian (Robbie back) - "I'll be there" Bonus 93 Fearne - "Wait, what are you doing here? How did you get here?" Dorian - "Well, I got your message." Ep 94 Orym — "Dorian. Dorian. Dorian, wake up. Dorian. Fearne and I outside the city, about 10 minutes. Need you all."
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oneforthemunny · 5 months
Text
surprise, surprise |eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: eddie forgets your birthday. or maybe he doesn't.
my birthday is in a few days and i wanted to write a little birthday ficlet blurb :) no aus, just eddie.
contains: angst/fluff. birthday doom. kinda asshole eddie?? kinda asshole friends?? really fluffy sweet ending. language.
“So,” Heather leaned over, chin propped in her hands dramatically slumped over the counter. “What’re you doing this weekend?” 
“Nothing,” You hummed, fingers flicking through the crinkled bills. “Why? You know something fun going on?” 
“It’s your birthday.” Heather gawked playfully. “You’re not doing anything for your birthday?” 
You rolled your eyes lightly, pushing the cash drawer closed. “No.” You shook your head, voice tight. 
“Eddie isn’t taking you out?” Heather’s brows furrowed. “Or you’re not going home? Going out? Are you getting a cake?” 
Your heart sank, a familiar burn rising in your chest. You didn’t speak about your birthday much, not much of an occasion for celebration to you, more of one that was dreadful. Another year closer to death, you’d grumble cynically. Still, when Eddie hadn’t even acknowledged it, when your friends had all blown you off for other plans, a new kind of ache formed in your chest. The sting of being forgotten, of being unimportant and discarded- on your birthday. 
It left a bitter taste on your tongue, sardonic and painful when you spoke about your impending birthdate. “No,” You shook your head, chin ducked to your chest. You had never wanted a customer to come in so badly, save you from this painful conversation with your co-worker. “They’re all busy.” 
“Oh.” Heather quipped, face falling at your tone. 
“I mean, it’s my fault.” You added quickly- defensively. Why you were so defensive over the people who had discarded you so easily, you weren’t sure. “I should have planned something earlier, but… I dunno, I got busy and life got super hectic and it just slipped past me-” 
“-No,” Heather shook her head, curls unmoving with the abundance of Aquanet she used, still. “That’s really shitty of them, all of them. It’s your birthday.” 
You stayed silent, wiping the counter half heartedly, swallowing back the familiar burn in your throat that choked you. “I mean, if it was my girlfriend or my friend, I would be buggin’ about their birthday.” Heather shrugged. 
“Yeah, me too.” You muttered. Bouts of memories pouring back into your mind. How you’d planned a party for Eddie, baked him some stupid cake from scratch that was in the Lord of the Rings. You’d gone to countless second hand stores trying to find the ancient recipe, and it took you a day to perfect. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to take you out? Get you a cheap store bought cake? 
“I’m sorry.” Heather muttered, a solemn, nearly guilty pout on her lips. “Well, you’re off tomorrow, right?” 
“Yeah.” 
“I get off at three. What if we go out? We can go to the bar- oh, there’s this new band playing in Franklin. Tommy could drive us.” Heather, ever the bubbly optimist, grinned, eyes shining with pride. It was endearing, made your heart squeeze with an ache you weren’t quite sure how to describe. 
“I’ll even get you a cupcake. A good one, from Nadia’s.” Heather added. 
“You don’t have to do that.” You shook your head lightly. You and Heather were work friends, hung out on the rare occasion after work to bitch about work, about the other coworkers, the pain-in-the-ass customers of the day over glasses of Pinot. Selfishly, it felt nice to have someone excited for your birthday. 
You hated that you wished it was Eddie, your own friends. 
“What’s your flavor, hm? Chocolate?” Heather pressed, brushing you off cheerily. 
“Don’t get me a cupcake. I’ll throw it up if we’re drinking. All the icing and liquor.” You snarled your nose playfully. 
“Fine. I’m buying you a drink then.” Heather nodded. She paused, nails drumming on the counter too. “And, I mean, if you want Eddie to come too, of course he’s invited.” Her eyes cut to yours carefully. “I didn’t know if you wanted him to come.” 
“I mean, I don’t know if he’d even be able to.” Your lips pursed, a cutting edge of annoyance in your tone. “He’s so busy.” 
Heather cringed, shooting you an apologetic look. “Yeah, that… I’m sorry, that sucks.” She mumbled. 
A stiff silence fell between the two of you over the whirr of the air conditioning blowing through the vents. “Since it’s so dead, why don’t you go early?” Heather suggested. “I can cover closing.” 
“Heather, Mel will be pissed-” 
“-Mel will be pissed if she has to pay both of us for standing around.” Heather gave you a pointed look. “And you came in before me. I got it.” 
“Are you sure?” You hesitated. “I don’t care to stay in case there’s a rush-” 
“-At seven?” Heather scoffed slightly. “Go. I’ve got it.” 
“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m on my way, ‘kay?” Heather chirped. 
“See you then.” You waved, cringing at the sing-songy Happy birthday! Heather shouted at you. 
You pulled open your cubby, gathering your purse, your umbrella. You wrote your time on the clipboard, the phone taunting you on the hook next to it. Any other day, you’d call Eddie- call home or the shop, wherever he was, just to let him know you’d be home early. He’d always reply with a silly comment that had your cheeks rushing with heat, warmth swelling in your chest. 
Tonight, you decided against it. He was too busy, anyway. Too busy at the shop, with his friends, at band practice. You tried not to dwell on it, let your mind spiral and spin down a damning dark hole of what ifs. It consumed you anyways, on your drive home, the radio playing on a static filled station that you didn’t bother to change. Background noise drowned out by your own hammering heart. 
Eddie’s van was parked in the gravel of his driveway, leaving just enough space for you to slide in under the covering attached to the trailer. He always let you have that spot, closer to the door, protected from the elements- so considerate. 
It was hard to fathom that it was the same boy who had forgotten your birthday, brushed it off like it was just another day. 
Your throat tightened around the ever growing lump, hands tight from the white knuckled grip you had on the wheel when you turned the keys out of the ignition. The stairs squeaked under your weight, the screen door hissing with the familiar soft screech when you pulled it open. 
“No- Henderson, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Eddie huffed, his voice trailing in from the living room. 
You paused, hand catching the door as it fell, quieting it as it latched. The air was thick, warm with a sticky, sweet smell. Music playing in a low hum from Eddie’s beloved boom box he kept in the living room. 
“You said to hang it!” Dustin’s shrill tone cut through the air. 
“Yeah, hang it high- Jesus Christ, I shoulda just waited until Robin got off.” Eddie was hidden by the wall, but you could practically see him pinching his nose, hand running over his curly bangs. “Can you- Can you go see if we can ice the cake yet?” 
“Yeah, what do I do?” Dustin questioned, a silence falling between the two of them. Your lips curled, swallowing a giggle. “What? I’m not a master chef or something. You act like I should know this. There wasn’t a cake making class-” 
“-There was, you moron. Home Ec, which clearly, you failed.” Eddie huffed in annoyance. You froze at his heavy footsteps, voice carrying closer and closer.“Whatever, can you- just make it look nice in here? Put the rest of the streamers up and- shit!” Eddie flinched, jumping at the sight of you in the doorway. Wide eyed and still, like you’d been caught. 
“Baby,” Eddie’s breath startled. “Hey, uh, what are you- you said you didn’t get- you’re home already?” His voice lifted, carried high in a squeak of surprise. 
“Yeah, I got off early. I thought you were working late.” Your brows furrowed at the tear of plastic, leaning to look around the corner. “What are you doing-” 
“-Don’t look in there.” Eddie snapped, his hand falling on the doorframe, arm blocking your vision. You jumped, glaring at him with annoyance. “I thought you closed tonight?” 
“I thought you closed tonight.” You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Clearly that’s not true. What is this? Another campaign night?” You rolled your eyes, body burning with irritation, jaw wound tight with it. 
“What? N-No, I-I thought you wouldn’t be home until later, and I’d have more time-” Eddie rambled, side stepping to block your view behind him. 
“-Ed, I don’t care if that’s what it is.” Your shoulders deflated, a wave of painful exhaustion, disappointment falling over you. “I just wish you would’ve let me know before you invite all these people over to play your game, so I could-” A shimmering glimmer of multicolored sequins caught your eyes, shining in the yellowed light of the kitchen, iridescent hued droplets cast over the cabinets. There, draped over the chair in bright, glittering letters, a small sash that read Happy Birthday! in obnoxiously big letters. 
You paused, eyes scanning towards the cake, cooling on the rack next to the mixing bowl of icing, the icing spatula still in it. Paper mache streamers taped to the ceiling, hung in swooping bouts mixed with the shiny streamers and balloons all the way to the living room. Eddie had brought out the folding table from the crawl space, even put a plastic tablecloth from the store over it to hide the yellowing stains that would never fade. 
Dustin’s eyes met yours, wide and darting between you and Eddie, still holding the roll of streamers he’d yet to hang. “Uh, Happy Birthday?” Dustin shrugged. 
Eddie huffed, shaking his head at him. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Eddie’s foot bounced with anxious adrenaline. “I thought you didn’t get off until eight, and-and I had it all planned, sweetheart, I really did. Steve’s getting the pizza, and everyone’s coming over at seven thirty-ish, and I- I was even going to have them park at Wayne’s in the back so you wouldn’t see.” 
Your chest felt deflated, void of any air, words, anything. Eddie chewed on his lip, hands twitching next to his jeans. “It was going to be this whole thing, fuck!” He huffed. “It was going to be a whole big thing, and…” 
Eddie’s heart leapt when your eyes finally met his. His fingers still drummed against the rough material of his jeans, veins filled with icy excitement, fear, anticipation? He wasn’t sure. 
“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, stepping to hover over you, voice dropping to a soft coo, hands sliding over your cheeks. “I’m- I wanted it to be a surprise.” 
You swallowed thickly. Eddie’s touch was soft, but it left you with a tingling burn when his thumb delicately traced your cheek bone. “You- This is for me?” You squeaked. 
Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, brows creasing. “Well, yeah.” He said playfully. “Who else would it be for?” 
Your brain was deafeningly silent, stunned at every new detail you’d discover. “You said you were busy.” Was all you could muster out, blinking up at Eddie. “You said you had to work late.” 
“I might have fibbed a little.” Eddie tilted his head sillily. “Told a little lie so I could get this set up.” He nodded towards the living room, a balloon floating near the doorway. 
“I just really wanted to surprise you.” Eddie’s shoulders fell. “I was trying to outdo you. Tryna out do what you did for mine. I called all your friends- even Alexandra,” You rolled your eyes at the mention, she was Eddie’s least favorite friend of yours. 
“And I… I just wanted to surprise you.” Eddie blinked down at you. “Just wanted your day to be special.” 
Your day, the phrase wrapped around you, swirled through your veins like a warm hug, squeezing your heart. 
“I’m sorry, it… I didn’t think about work.” Eddie shook his head, running a hand over his forehead. “I didn’t even think about it, and I-” 
“-Eddie,” Your voice caught in your throat. 
Eddie tensed, cringing with expectant dread. He’d ruined it, blew it, the tears were coming and they were deserved. You’d done so well on his, surprised the hell out of him with the cake, decorated for his birthday campaign with lanterns and candles you’d thrifted. Gone all out for him, and he couldn’t even pull off a simple surprise party. 
“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, head pressing to yours. His eyes cut around the room, making sure a certain Henderson pest was lurking. 
“Sorry?” You repeated. “Eddie, I-I am surprised.” You choked out, looking around the room with gleaming eyes. 
Eddie paused. “You are?” 
You nodded. “Yeah, I thought you’d forgotten.” You admitted. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”  
Eddie’s brows pinched in a confused scowl. “You thought I’d forget?” He muttered. 
A watery laugh fell from your lips before you could stop it. “Yeah.” You admitted. “You were really convincing.” 
Eddie’s chest boasted playfully. “Oscar worthy?” 
“You’d sweep the competition.” You jested back, arms sliding over his forearms. His hands found home on the small of your waist, pulling you into him. 
“I didn’t forget your birthday.” Eddie said softly. “Just… for the record.” 
“I can see that.” You giggled. “Thank you. It’s-It’s really sweet.” 
“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” Eddie’s hands rubbed down your spine. “It would look better but… Robin and Nancy didn’t get off until later, and it’s just me and Henderson.” 
“It looks great. Perfect.” Your cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His nice shirt, Eddie always called it. Broke it out for special occasions. 
“Not perfect. Fucked up the main part.” Eddie grumbled. “I can call everyone, let them know that they can park out front since there’s no surprise anymore.” 
“No, don’t do that.” You shook your head lightly, chin propping against his chest to look up at him. “I’ll leave and come back, and you can still do it. I can pretend to be surprised.” 
Eddie’s lips curled, pulling back to look down at you. “You’re gonna pretend?” He tilted his head. 
“My turn to act.” You teased, brow lifting gently. “Give you some competition.” You poked his tummy playfully. 
Eddie grinned, pulling you back into him, lips sliding over yours in a soft kiss you savored. Melting into each other, fusing into a gooey puddle- it was corny, a cliche. One you’d roll your eyes at if it was anyone else. 
“Happy birthday.” Eddie muttered, lips brushing and tickling your own. 
“Thank you.” You whispered back, hands finding the base of his neck, pushing him back into you. Eddie’s hand fell against the wooden door frame, steadying himself in a rapidly heating makeout. 
“Uh,” Dustin’s voice interrupted the two of you, just as Eddie’s hands were sliding under your work blouse. “Yeah, I-I finished with the streamers.” 
Eddie glared at him, jaw ticking in annoyance when you pulled away. “I’m just going to grab my makeup bag, and I’ll go.” You whispered, cheeks flooding with heat. 
Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes at Dustin when you left. “What? What did I do?” Dustin threw his hands out. 
“Such a fuckin’ cock block, Henderson.” Eddie muttered, stomping into the kitchen. “Put the plates and shit out, will ya?” 
Your performance was Oscar worthy, Eddie decided later, when you stepped through the door of the now darkened trailer, gasping when the lights flickered on and everyone jumped out. You looked positively radiant, glowing with excitement at the small crowd of friends crammed into the doorway. Eddie kissed you, sloppier than he should have, especially in front of everyone, but he didn’t care. Overwhelmed with affection for you. 
He couldn’t tell if you were still pretending when he brought out the cake, the room singing in a harmonious tone to you, candles lit and glowing in the dim light. Eddie didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled, fingers pressed to your lips at the now iced cake. When your fingers curled under his chin, sharing a fork-full of cake with him, kissing him after so quickly it left his head spinning. 
His birthday girl, it was your day. Eddie never thought he’d love a random day as much as he did. He had no idea how important that day would become when he’d first met you, how it would engrave itself in his mind forever. 
He was glad it did. Looking at you, giggling with your friends on the couch, then again, the next night, singing with Heather at the crowded bar- Eddie’s chest heart swelled. Proud that he’d surprised you, hopeful that he’d get to for the rest of his life. 
Next year, he’d do it right. Really pull off the party you deserved. He’d start saving now, planning too. He decided it that night, tucked between the sheets, your head still on his sweat soaked chest. He could still taste you on his tongue, lips numb from the time he’d spent between your legs. Lashes fluttering in sleep, curled into him, Eddie pulled you closer. He’d get it right next year, you deserved it. 
1K notes · View notes
kiss-inthekitchen · 6 months
Text
same sky | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot
word count: 2k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter
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“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 
“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  
“Is everyone else asleep?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 
“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 
“How come you’re still up?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”
“Looking up at the stars.”
“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”
“Ha ha.”
“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”
“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 
His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”
For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.
“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 
“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.
“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.
“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”
“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”
“Less murder now.” 
“Yeah.” 
His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 
You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”
“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 
“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”
“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 
“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”
“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”
You laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re right.”
“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”
“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”
“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 
“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 
“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 
“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 
“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 
“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 
“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 
“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 
You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 
“Spence?” 
“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”
“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 
“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 
“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 
“Man, I’m good.” 
“Mmhm.”
“Going to bed?”
“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 
“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 
“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 
“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 
“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 
“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 
Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 
“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 
“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 
You laugh. “For the whole day?” 
“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 
“Okay, rest day all day.” 
“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 
“Maybe the floor.” 
“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 
“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 
“Say no more.” 
You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 
“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 
“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 
“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 
“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”
“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 
“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 
“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 
“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 
“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 
“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 
“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 
You let out a little gremlin laugh. 
“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 
“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 
“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 
“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 
“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 
“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 
“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 
“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 
“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 
“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 
He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 
“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 
“I’m going to hold you to that.” 
The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 
You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 
“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 
You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 
Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 
“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 
“More like three now.”
“We made time go faster.” 
“We did.” 
“Will you try to get some sleep?”
“Fine. Only because you asked.”
You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 
“And I love you.” 
Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 
Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 
You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 
“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 
1K notes · View notes
nhlclover · 29 days
Text
𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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summary: you and luke say your goodbyes to jack and step into the newest chapter of your lives.
warnings: fluff, insinuation of smut towards the end
word count: 1.12k
The living room was a chaotic sea of boxes, turning your new apartment into a maze that the three of you had to carefully navigate. Some boxes were stacked precariously high, swaying slightly with each step you took, as if daring gravity to take hold. Others were haphazardly strewn across the floor, creating narrow pathways that forced you to sidestep and twist around just to get from one end of the room to the other. The faint scent of fresh paint still lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of cardboard, a constant reminder that this place was truly new — truly yours.
“Oh god, this is going to take forever to unpack,” you sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face as you stood amidst the chaos that had consumed your new home. The task before you felt insurmountable, like you’d need a week just to clear a path to the kitchen.
Luke stepped closer, his presence a comforting anchor amid the disarray. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side, his warmth easing the stress that had begun to coil in your chest. “Yeah…” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, before leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “Maybe we start that tomorrow.”
Jack, who had been lugging boxes back and forth from the truck all afternoon, dropped the latest one—a heavy box labelled Kitchen—onto the couch with a thud. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “You sure you got everything?” he asked, casting a weary glance around the room that seemed to get more cluttered with each passing minute.
“I did a final scan right before we left… I think we’ve got everything,” you answered.
“And Jack, even if we forgot something, it’s not like we’re far,” Luke added.
After living with Jack for Luke’s first season in New Jersey, you’d finally decided it was time to get your own place. Jack had been a great roommate, but you and Luke had long reached the point in your relationship where it was time to be on your own. Although Jack had long joked about wanting you out of “his house”, you knew deep down he was going to miss having you as a roommate.
You slipped out of Luke’s grasp, taking a few steps toward Jack and giving him a playful poke in the side. “You know, Jack, I think you’re gonna miss me when I’m not here to clean up after your messes.”
Jack scoffed, though the smile he tried to suppress betrayed him. “Please, I’ll finally have some peace and quiet without the two of you bickering constantly.”
You and Luke both scoffed, seeing right through him. “Yeah right, you’ll be lost without us here.” you teased.
He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Luke chuckled, shaking his head at his brother. “You know, you can admit you’ll miss her, right? I know I would.”
Jack shook his head, trying to play it cool, but the small crack in his facade was obvious. “I’ll survive. I mean, who needs a sister-in-law who steals the last of the cereal?”
You laughed, the sound filling the room as you pulled Jack into a quick hug. Despite all the teasing, you knew Jack had genuinely enjoyed having you around. He had never complained about the extra person in his space, and you suspected he would miss the lively energy you and Luke brought to the apartment.
“Thanks for putting up with us, Jack,” you said softly, squeezing him a little tighter before letting go. “And don’t worry, we’ll still come around to raid your cereal.”
Jack smirked, shaking his head. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”
As you stepped back, Luke was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close once more. The three of you stood there for a moment, surrounded by the boxes that represented a new chapter in your lives. The apartment you and Luke had chosen together was just a few blocks away, but it felt like a world of difference. It was the first place that would truly be yours—no longer just a guest in someone else’s home but a space where you and Luke could continue building your life together.
Jack gave you a mock salute as he headed toward the door. “Alright, lovebirds, I’m out. Don’t call me to help unpack.”
You grinned, watching him go. “We won’t,” you called after him, your voice filled with affection.
As the door clicked shut behind Jack, you and Luke were left in the stillness of your new apartment. The silence was almost overwhelming, but it was a comforting kind of quiet—the kind that spoke of new beginnings. You glanced around the room, taking in the boxes that surrounded you, before letting out a long, tired sigh and leaving Luke’s comforting grasp. “We should probably get a head start on this.”
Luke groaned, but you both knew you were right. Together, you tackled the important things—the bed, a few personal effects, and other essentials you’d need right away. When exhaustion finally got the better of you, you collapsed onto the couch—the only piece of furniture that wasn’t buried under a mountain of boxes.
Luke’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “We did it,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and pride.
“Yeah, we did,” you echoed, leaning your head against his shoulder. The reality of it all was just beginning to sink in. This was your home now. A place that belonged to the two of you, where you could make memories that were just yours.
Luke shifted slightly, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I think we should celebrate,” he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore.
You laughed softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Oh? And how do you propose we do that?”
A slow grin spread across Luke’s face, and you didn’t need him to spell it out to know exactly what he had in mind. Luke shifted closer to you, his lips brushing against yours. “We should christen the place,” he murmured.
The wave of exhaustion lifted, a new sensation of excitement filling your bones. You didn’t need any more convincing. The boxes could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you had more important things to attend to. With a laugh, you tugged him off the couch and led him toward the bedroom.
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chunghasweetie · 4 months
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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk
— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol
— word count | 1.3k words
— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone
Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.
His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.
He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.
The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.
He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.
She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.
A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.
“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.
Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.
“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.
“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”
He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”
“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.
“Anything for my baby.”
“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.
“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”
“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”
Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.
“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”
“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.
The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.
“How was work today baby?”
“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.
Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"
“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.
He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."
His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"
“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."
“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”
His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.
“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”
"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.
He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.
"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”
“So fucking pretty” He whispered.
He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”
He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.
"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.
“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”
He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.
"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.
His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.
“Mm” She hummed.
Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"
He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”
“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered
He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"
His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.
“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”
He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.
"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"
He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."
He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”
He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.
"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.
Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.
Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.
“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.
He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."
He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.
“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.
He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."
He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.
“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.
He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."
He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."
“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”
He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."
He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”
He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.
“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”
“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.
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