#Charge the Music Truck

[junglefurytrash]

I had to return to Starlight Shitposts to recreate some of the posts found here because these are absolutely hilarious

[aldieb]

good news i feel like my body and mind have been beaten with hammers and i am soooooo happy about everything. move success 👍

[almostempty]

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that. 

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy? 

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic? 

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 1.5 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk  

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift. 

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him. 

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that. 

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories. 

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach. 

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there. 

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked. 

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right? 

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible. 

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway. 

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course! 

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life. 

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench. 

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is. 

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep. 

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? 

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything. 

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench. 

Still, no Joel, however. 

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls. 

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.   

The next moment is a blur. 

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone. 

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow. 

“What are you doing here?” he barks. 

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run. 

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist. 

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you. 

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face. 

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch. 

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon? 

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead. 

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal. 

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic. 

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?” 

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door. 

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it. 

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop. 

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face. 

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk. 

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans. 

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues. 

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately. 

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock. 

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts. 

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm. 

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now. 

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core. 

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock. 

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop. 

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess.  You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one. 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin. 

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you. 

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back. 

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer. 

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin. 

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours. 

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief. 

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point. 

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?” 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare. 

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.” 

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked. 

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.” 

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle. 

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat. 

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him. 

“You need more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum. 

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon. 

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene. 

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision. 

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.” 

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move. 

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door. 

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose. 

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize. 

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display. 

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen: 

Joel

Attachment 1 image

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER TWO

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: this chapter is just plot/character building. next chapter we're getting to the good stuff)

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

The old farm truck rocked back and forth as you made your way up the all-too familiar dirt path, heading in the direction of the greenhouses. You’d already let the hens out to graze and feed and the last thing you had to do before dropping today’s produce off was check on the nurseries. 

Johnny Cash’s southern twang hummed gently over the speakers, your well worn-in cassette tape having been the first thing you reached for this morning. The sun had risen just a few hours ago, and after a few cups of much needed coffee you were ready to go. 

The caffeine had done the lord's work, having cleared your brain of any anxious background noise. You could actually function when you had tasks at hand. The second you slowed down though… well, that was a different story. You were trying hard not to imagine Abby sitting beside you in the beat-to-hell red pickup, her blonde braid tossed over her shoulder as she stuck her arm out of the window. You used to joke about her being part dog, what with her loving the wind on her face so much. You missed being able to reach out and wrap a stray strand of blonde hair around your finger, only giving it a soft tug when those blue eyes of hers looked at you with a little too much heat behind them. 

So instead of looking at the empty passenger seat you busied yourself with turning up the volume, country music crackling over the shot, old speakers. You all but jumped out of the car the second you put the car in park, ready to get your hands dirty and your mind preoccupied.

You couldn’t remember how many times the two of you had snuck off to the greenhouse when your mother had gotten a little too overbearing back when she still lived in the main house with you. There wasn’t a single surface in the old rickety building that abby hadn’t fucked you on or vice versa. 

You walked along the rows and rows of seedlings, looking for any sign of water rot or bug infestations. Everything was perfect, every stem and leaf a vibrant green. Tomatoes, all different kinds of summer squash, and beans of every variety; you had the gift of a green thumb. Your father was more than happy to sign his company over to you right before he passed. All five acres of his property belonged to you now, and with that every bit of responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. You used to resent the fact that you were so young and in charge of so much. Now you were thankful for the constant work. Distractions. You hated seeing your dad’s life work being summed up as a mere distraction, but it was the only thing that got you out of bed in the morning. 

Everyone in the family knew that your dad had wanted a boy when your mother’s pregnancy was first announced. It was a family business, the job having been passed down to him by his own father. Still, he had been ecstatic to show you the ropes. Rather than taking up dance or art like most other little girls your age, you spent your free time elbow deep in mud. You wore the bows and fussed over getting new outfits, but overalls were your daily uniform. 

You wore a pair even today, your work boots tightly fastened to ward away any unwanted pecks from overprotective mother hens. Today was bound to be monotonous, as it always was. All you had to do was repot a few strawberry plants. Maybe if you were lucky a goat would find a hole in the gate and escape. At least it would give you something to worry about that wasn’t Abby related. 

You slunk over towards the sinks, pumping soap into your dirt covered palm to wash off the dirt. You rubbed your hands together to begin lathering but froze when you realized your right hand felt bare. You brushed your thumb against your middle finger only to realize that it was just as you had feared. 

Your ring. It wasn’t there. 

White hot dread locked your limbs as you turned your hand over, the dainty opal missing from your middle finger. You blinked, hoping that you were just seeing things. You didn’t even turn off the sinks before racing back over to the repotting table, as if the promise ring had grown legs and would escape you. Your eyes frantically searched the table, pain shooting through your knees as you dropped down on all fours, pushing dirt and leaves aside to get a better vantage point. Nothing. It wasn’t there. 

“Oh god. No! No, no, no.” You all but screamed, eyes filling with tears as you pulled yourself off. 

You broke out into a nervous sweat, the blood rushing from your head. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening right now. 

You didn’t care if you killed the plants, you ripped the strawberries up by their stems, shaking their roots out as you searched their new pots. 

Every. Single. One. 

Empty. 

Abby had given you that ring just before her last deployment, promising that she would be giving you the real thing once she got back. Of course, she never did. It was single handedly the most important piece of jewelry that you had ever owned, even above your grandmother’s pearls and engagement ring. How could you be so reckless? Why hadn’t you thought to leave it in the car? 

“Stupid! I’m so fucking stupid!” You screamed, tossing a clay pot on the ground in a fit of anger. It shattered behind you, exploding into a thousand tiny pieces. 

You spent an hour sifting through dirt and untangling roots before you finally realized that it was a lost cause. The ring was gone. You’d wrecked the entire greenhouse in your frantic search and the strawberries were just as you expected: dead. 

You slammed the door shut behind you, the old window panes shaking with the force. You had barely thrown yourself into the pickup before your body was wracked with full body sobs. White knuckling the steering wheel you leaned your head forward, completely unbothered as the horn blared. 

How could you lose something so precious to you? It had been the last gift that you had ever received from Abby. The last. There was no possible way to replace something that was that special to you. Her hands had touched that ring. She’d been nervous to give it to you in the first place, anxious that two years hadn’t been enough time to give you something that sentimental. It was the meaning behind it that had you clutching at your chest, your fingernails digging into your shirt as if you could rip your heart straight out from between your ribs. 

She was going to replace that ring once she got back. Give you the “real deal” once she was back home and able to have a ceremony. 

But there would never be a ceremony. Never another ring. Never another Abby. 

Never. Never. Never. 

It felt like you were losing a piece of her, and with that came the revelation- the same one that you’ve already had a thousand times- that she was really gone. There would be no do-overs; no alternate universes where the two of you could be together. The reality of your situation sat heavy in your throat, clogging your airway. 

The loss of Abby had eclipsed your heart completely, and darkness was all that was left. 

You stayed in the car until your eyes had practically swelled shut and there were no more tears to shed. 

The car ride back to her childhood home was completely silent, the only sound being the engine of Joel’s shiny new truck. She did her best to compliment him on the new purchase, but Ellie was sure that she didn’t sound even half as enthusiastic as she had hoped she would. She didn’t feel like being an actress today. Not when he already knew how bad she was doing. Joel had taken one look at her as she got off of the plane and frowned, grabbing her bags only after giving her a bone shattering side hug. 

“Well I missed ya,” He finally spoke, causing her to jump in surprise. The sound of his baritone voice soothed her nerves over though. “I’ve really missed you annoyin’ the hell outta me at all hours of the day.” 

Ellie cracked a small smile at that, leaning her head into the plush leather seat. The last time she saw Joel was when she had first been transferred to the Kindred Hospital back in Chicago, which was where she had rotted away for a full week. Her eye and face healed up quickly but her back was a different story. She’d been burned badly and had all of the nasty scars to prove it. He had stayed by her bedside for the entire week and had helped her to readjust to being back home in her apartment. The nearly debilitating pain was the only thing that had distracted her from the gravity of her situation back then. 

Her therapist said it was normal to disassociate for long periods of time when the body and mind are put under so much stress. Ellie still felt like Ellie back then, but it was only because she didn’t have any real grasp on reality. It was just a few days after Joel left that she finally snapped out of it. She was one of the only five that survived. She was told that landmines were the cause of so many deaths in Iraq. 

“It happens all the time out there. You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.”  

She didn’t want her unit to just be another statistic. They weren’t just numbers. They were people who had loved ones at home. Loved ones that they had to leave for months and months on end. She couldn’t help but shoulder all of the blame. Ellie was the one that had led them out there in the first place. It was her fault, so why hadn’t she died right along with them? She would have considered herself lucky if she had lost her life right along with them. These were the people that she saw daily. Ellie had developed deep friendships with every member of her unit. She knew the details of all of their lives- the names of their children and loved ones back at home, what they wanted to do with their lives once they were dismissed- how could she not feel like someone had ripped her soul to shreds? How could she not constantly remind herself, every second of every goddamn day, that she was the reason. 

She was a ghost. A mere shell of the person that she once was and she had no one to blame but herself. 

“I didn’t know you liked me being annoying so much,” Still, she turned to Joel and cracked him a small smile. It was more for his sake and less for hers though. “I’ll make sure to turn it up a notch while I’m here.” 

The older man grumbled, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the country roads in front of him. “That sounds like a threat.” 

Ellie could tell that he was playing with her. They were professionals when it came to teasing each other, often to the point that people thought that they were seriously bickering. The short haired female let herself settle into the normalcy of the moment. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the accident or her mental state yet, so it was easy to pretend that things were still…okay. 

So that’s exactly what she did. She began to pretend. Ellie allowed herself to be transported back in time. This was just another Tuesday. She’d get back home and sweet talk Joel into cooking her an after school snack. Then she’d go up to her room and procrastinate doing her homework so that she could reread one of her comics. 

“Got anything good in here?” Ellie asked before opening up the center console. “I’m not gonna find anything nasty, am I?” 

Joel’s lips pursed as he tried to fight off a smile. “Don’t go rifflin’ through my shit, kiddo.” 

Her eyes snagged on a familiar purple book, and for the first time in a while something yawned to life in her chest. Joy. 

“What do we have here?” She pulled out the book of puns, using it to fan herself before she cracked the bad boy open. 

“Ah, don’t start.” He groaned. 

She didn’t take the time to wonder why he had put the well loved book in his brand new truck. Instead of allowing herself to be overcome with endearment she flipped to a random page, her lips turning up in the first genuine smile she’d had in months. 

“Where can you find a tiny coke?” She asked him, turning in her seat so that she could face him, tucking one of her converse-clad feet underneath her. 

“Hey! Get your dirty shoes off of my new upholstery!” Joel reached over and gave her knee a slap. 

Ellie reared back, holding the book of puns tight to her chest. 

“Come on, try and guess.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned his arm against the door. 

“I don’t know… tiny town.” 

Her nose wrinkled, an eyebrow quirking up at his half assed answer. 

“Shitty guess, but alright.” She mumbled under her breath. “Mini-soda.” 

“Hilarious.” He said sarcastically, turning onto the familiar drive. 

“I think I saw you smile though.”She leaned over to give his cheek a poke, but he swiftly batted her hand away. 

The truck’s all-terrain tires crunched over the gravel driveway, revealing the only real home she’d ever lived in. The house and yard looked exactly the same as it had whenever she was a teenager. She sighed out a breath of relief, not knowing how much well she would have handled any sort of severe change. Ellie opened the passenger side door before Joel had a chance to put the car in park, eager to settle in after the flight. She wanted to shower, and that surprised her a bit. A welcome surprise.  

Maybe things would be better for her here.  

“You didn’t turn my old room into some perverted sex dungeon while I was gone, did you?” She teased as she grabbed her tan duffel bag, easily tossing it over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs. 

He laughed as a response, following close behind her so that he could unlock the front door. She didn’t know why he even bothered. He lived in the middle of nowhere, and they rarely got visitors. 

“I’ve got some guitars in there that are worth a fortune.” He’d told her the last time she’d asked. 

It had been one of the few times that Ellie had snuck out of the house after curfew. She’d been unable to haul herself back into her second story window once she’d gotten back home and had been forced to sleep in the beat up old hatchback that he had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. Breakfast that morning had been… tense, to say the least. 

“I didn’t touch your room… but I did get a dog, so make sure not to let her out.” 

She paused at that, turning to look at him with wide eyes. There had been a strict “no animals” rule back when she lived with him. She never thought she’d see the day where Joel Miller would adopt a pet, let alone a dog. 

“You got a dog?” She was still in disbelief and half expected him to fucking with her. 

“Buckley is a good boy. He shits on the floor sometimes and barks all hours of morning though. It’s almost like having you home.” He teased, bumping his shoulder against hers so that he could shove his key into the lock. 

The deadbolt clicked open, and low and behold there was a dog. He looked like some sort of lab mix, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he anxiously waited for his owner’s return. Ellie was too excited to come up with a witty response to Joel’s joke. She tossed her duffle down on the couch, quickly getting down on her knees so that she could pet the dog. 

“He’s not much of a guard dog, is he?” He asked, closing the door behind him. 

The second that Ellie’s hand tangled into his thick black fur he flopped down, eager for love. Ellie smirked, looking at Joel over her shoulder. 

“I don’t know. He looks pretty ferocious to me.” 

The sudden knock on the door had Ellie’s lips downturning, eyebrows pinching in confusion. She didn’t like the idea of company right now, and the last thing she wanted was to socialize with anyone. For a second she feared that he had called a doctor or therapist to come out to the house to see her. She wasn’t sure if she could take another “come to Jesus” meeting this week, and she was barely holding it together as is. Ellie put her hands on her knees, pushing herself up to stand before she nodded at the door. 

“Company?” She simply asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Joel ignored her obvious distaste, wrenching the door open quickly before she could stop him. It sure as hell wasn’t Tommy. . . and Ellie doubted that most doctors wore overalls, even in Jackson. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, the golden rays shone through the vast expanse of trees on the property, making it almost look like the world was on fire. The warm glow behind the beautiful stranger made her look ethereal almost, her eyes watery and cheeks flushed. At her feet was a cardboard box packed to the brim with fruits and vegetables. All at once Ellie became startlingly aware of the fact that she looked like absolute hammered shit. Her hair was a frizzy mess, her skin was paler than it had ever been before, and she was wearing an old NASA shirt and dingy sweatpants. If she noticed her disheveled appearance she didn’t show it. 

The smile that she beamed in Joel’s direction didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a strange sense of understanding flickered in Ellie’s gaze as she took a few inquisitive steps forward. Ellie Williams knew what suffering was like; true suffering. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror, her well hidden misery plain as day to the auburn haired female. 

“Sorry I’m so late, Mr Miller. My truck was giving me problems.” Her voice was beautiful. Melodic in a way that Ellie’s wasn’t. 

Spring. . . this girl was spring incarnate. 

And she was lying through her teeth. 

She’d been crying. Ellie could tell. Still, Joel was already peeking his head out of the door, looking in the direction of where she had parked. 

“I could take a look at it for you.” He was being dismissed with a small wave of your hand before he could even get the words fully out. 

“That’s so nice of you, but I’ve got it cranking up again. It shouldn’t give me any more trouble today.” Her hair fell off of her shoulder as she leaned down to pick up the box.

Ellie moved forward without thinking, picking up the heavy box for the girl before her fingers could even grip the sides of the cardboard. “Here, let me get it.” She said, craning her neck up so that she could speak directly to the woman. 

There wasn’t a single thing about you that Ellie found undesirable. In that moment she was completely certain that you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, even with the pain and memory that swirled behind your bright eyes. Their eyes locked, and much to Ellie’s embarrassment, she held her gaze. She watched her with the same sort of silent appreciation. 

“-I think it would be good for her. What do you say?” Ellie hadn’t noticed that Joel had been talking the entire time. 

The woman blinked a few times, tearing her eyes away from Ellie. “Huh? I’m sorry, do you mind repeating that?” She was nervously tucking a few strands of unruly hair behind her ear, shifting in place on the front porch. 

“I was just saying that Ellie is going to be staying out here with me. I think working with you on the farm would be good for her. It would help her to get out of the house, and I know you’ve been pretty busy since it’s just you running things now.” Joel put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Supportive. Non-judgemental. He was reminding her what would be good for her mental state right now, and having something to do with her hands would certainly help to take her mind off of things. 

“O-Oh!” The girl’s lips parted in shock, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I get a pretty early start though, so don’t feel obligated to wake up as early as I do.” 

“I’ll wake up.” Ellie said quickly, nodding her head. 

Her words held a tone of desperation and it had Joel’s head whipping around in her direction. He probably wasn’t expecting her to be so supportive of his last minute idea. She couldn’t be sure if it was because she genuinely wanted to get her mind off of things or if the farm girl’s looks had anything to do with her enthusiasm. Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt drawn to someone like this. Relationships were the last thing on her mind these days. 

“Can you start tomorrow?” The other girl asked, shoving her hands into her front pockets. 

Adorable. She was adorable. Ellie felt her breath hitch and all she could do was nod as an answer for your question. 

“Alright. . . “She began to trail off, backing up a few steps on the porch. It seemed like you were in a bit of a hurry. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“Tomorrow.” Ellie repeated back to her. 

She leaned back, lifting the box higher up on her chest so that she could watch the woman get back into her mud stained pickup truck. She only took a step back when Joel started to close the door on her. 

“So you’re actually fine with that? I didn’t think you would go for it, honestly.” Joel rubbed at his stubbled chin, flashing her a small smile of approval. 

“There’s no way I want to be stuck in a house with your ass all hours of the day.” Ellie quipped, walking to the kitchen so that she could place the vegetables on the countertop. 

“I think workin’ there would be good for the both of you. That poor girl has had an awful year. . . I think you’d be good for each other. She needs a friend.” Joel’s voice was somber as he followed her into the kitchen. 

Ellie turned to face the older man, swallowing hard as he leaned against the doorway. He was being a bit cryptic. It seemed like he didn’t want to be the one to tell Ellie the girl’s business. Still, she was curious, and she didn’t want to be blind sided tomorrow just in case she wanted to talk about it. Ellie wasn’t usually nosey, but she had a strong urge to get to know her. 

“What do you mean by that?” Ellie’s first guess was that she had to be going through some sort of divorce. Joel had mentioned the fact that she was on her own now, so coming to that conclusion was natural. 

“No, nothin’ like that,” He cleared his throat before pushing off of the door frame, slowly beginning to unload the box's contents. “She lost her girlfriend and her father this year. She’s the kindest girl. . . you’d never know how much she’s sufferin’ based on how she acts.” 

“Oh.” Ellie frowned, having realized that your mourning must be the reason for your sad, sad eyes. She understood how it felt to lose so many people so close together. Better than anyone, really.

“Oh.” 

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[wowserb0wser]

“Tornado Wrangler”

A/N: Watched Twisters last night and I was literally drooling in the theaters for David Corenswet and Glen Powell. But Glen my boy has many fanfics written for him, not so much for David!! I am here to change that!! Was like crazy horny when writing this, I should be ashamed but I am not.

Paring: Scott x AFAB reader

Description: you work as a lab tech for one of the companies suppling the "storm par" with money and having to check that everything was going to plan. You expected the tornados to be the most interesting part while being in Oklahoma, but a certain science engineer catches your attention and you catch his. Kate’s not in this one :(

WC: 7.5k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warning(s): MDI!!! Scott being a meanie-weenie at first but he warms up quickly. Nervous!F!Reader, Smut ahead!!! 18+ Size kink, Dry humping, Dirty talking, Finger sucking, Oral (f receiving), Reasonable age-gap (Scott is 26, reader is 23), Pet names = baby, big girl, Kinda degrading/Not really??, Protected penetration (PinV), Slight!DomScott! + Slight!Sub!Reader!, Scott actually never shuts up during sex. MY BOY IS VOCAL🗣️

You've known Javi ever since he left the military. He was looking for grants to fund his "science project". You just happen to be working for one of the businesses that agreed to give him and his whole team equipment, his pitch was impressive and your boss sent you out to know exactly how their money was spent for this experiment. At last that's what they told you, now being in the field, it seemed more like a punishment for you. Not that you didn't like tornados - you did… but only from behind a computer screen. You were a scientist that primarily worked inside of an AC’ed lab, not the blistering heat of Oklahoma and especially with chasing tornados in person and close.

Now here. Faced with an awkward car ride with Javi to meet the whole team. It wasn't completely awkward with Javi, it's just that you haven't spent such a long time alone with him before this moment. At least he tried to make small talk.

It wasn't much further to the meet up spot. And it was clear that every other person who wanted to chase down a tornado was also meeting at the same spot as us.

Javi parks the truck next to an exact same model and makes it as the one you're in, the only difference was the tag line that separates them from each other, the other was “Scarecrow” while yours was “Lion”. That's when you looked around and saw them. They wore matching white button downs with the small label that was wrapped on your truck and the matching one next to you. It read "Storm Par". You've heard of the company, but it wasn't the company you work for, it must be another company that was lending them money.

One particular team mate stuck out from one another. He was tall - tall as in towering over everyone else in the group.

Javi was quick to get out of the car and open your door, lending you his hand to help you get out and stepping straight into loose dirt that went everywhere. You were truly out of your lab.

You follow closely behind Javi while passing through the crowd, people shouting over each other and country music blasting in every direction. You saw some people gather into a set-up booth with merch that had a specific saying, but couldn't tell what it said from your distance. All you could see was a man standing on his truck with sunglasses and a cowboy hat that covered a good portion of his face. You can hear him riling up the crowd. As you get closer to Javi’s group, you can tell who's in charge already. That person being the same tall man that caught your eyes first.

The closer to the man you pick upon what he looks like, he wears almost blacked out sunglasses and a faded blue baseball cap. His dark hair slightly peeking out the corners of his hat, his eyebrows quite hidden behind said sunglasses and a straight smile that barely showed any interest. It was such a night and day comparison to Javi and everyone else on the team as they put on their bright smiles for you as a warm welcome.

Both of you reach the "Storm Par" group of men. Javi welcomes you to the group all-whistle introducing everyone's names and where they went to school. Stopping before the tall man. Giggling to himself before introducing the man, "And this is Scott. He went to MIT-" Javi giggles again at how Scott's reaction hasn't changed. "No, no, no - He makes up for it. With his beautiful, amazing, personality!” Javi praises and justifies. The stoic deadpan faced man. Javi’s hand resting on Scott's shoulder. A quick smile flashes you clean bright teeth. He looks sharp. The clean white freshly ironed button down compared with the other "hillbilly's with a camera" more dirty and not freshly pressed shirts. Javi pats quickly on Scott's shoulder and puts his hands back down. His earbuds still in his ears, you couldn't tell if he even heard your name. Dark aviator sunglasses hid his expression. His jaw clutches down on a piece of gum.

There was an aura about Scott. Nonchalant, unfazed, calm facial expression that draws you in. His tall figure, being around 6’4ft. His arms pulled together crossed against his chest. His forearms stretching the fabric on the short sleeved buttoned shirt, his skin glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun, he was just lightly tanned. You saw how those arms were built and your eyes started trailing down his torso….

Quickly you blinked away from that thought and continued to focus on Javi's words rather than standing and practically drooling over this guy's physique that you literally just met. But you could feel Scott's eyes lingering on your face for a second longer.

After Javi finishes his mini speech he pulls you to the side. "Look, if you're too nervous about going out there then you can just wait at the motel while me and the crew go out." He offers with a sympathetic smile. You were about to accept his offer but remembered why you were out here in the first place. “No, I think I'm ready to see what our money supports." You retort back. Once hearing you, he laughs and slightly shakes his head, “You're never ready for your first tornado.".

You looked towards the group again and saw Scott and some others looking at yours and Javi’s direction. You knew what they thought. That you weren't up for a challenge, time to prove them wrong.

“So when do we head out?" You say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit in the "Tin-man" truck along with Javi and Scott, they both sit in the front seat while you were directed to specifically sit in the back. You were quick to put your seatbelt on and Javi slammed on the pedal to start on their chase. A few minutes pass. The music is barely audible and occasionally Scott said to turn either right or left. While on a straight dirt road you muster the courage to start asking questions, “So what exactly does Tornado chasing intel?". Javi once again laughs, simultaneously thinking about how to explain it as simply as possible. Scott doesn't seem to mind or acknowledge your question. Javi responses, “Okay. We start with looking at our data, thank you Scott, and see where a tornado could possibly occur." He taps on the steering wheel to focus. “What do you mean "possibly occur''?”. You expect Javi to continue answering your questions, but Scott's voice pierce the air.

“It all depends on if the seal breaks by the anvil. Warm air goes up and cold air goes down, this continues to build and some other factors that's hard to explain quickly. " He looks back at you, his blue eyes stare down at you. This was the first time seeing his face without those sunglasses and you surely weren’t disappointed. It causes your cheeks to flood with warming. Hopefully the two men didn't notice. Scott turns his head back to the laptop seated on his lap.

The laptop starts beeping, the screen showing bright colors swirling. Both men start smiling at the screen and start hyping each other up for this tornado.

This was so different from being in the lab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shook in the truck's backseat, hearing Javi and Scott yelling over the roaring tornado that was getting closer by the seconds they were outside. The faint snaps of the radar planting into the ground and heavy footsteps rushing back to the truck. Scott reaches for the middle console and holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth, Javi is already putting the car in drive to get away from the approaching tornado. “Our’s is set. We're coming back! Over!” He quickly speaks into the radio and refocuses back on his laptop to see the already updating data scans.

Scott fists his hand together and cheers a little for the successful radar. Javi joins in and whoops the same. Scott's chest puffs in and out, trying to calm down the adrenaline rush that just came washing over his whole body. A big toothy smile shines, he quickly glanced behind to see if you’re sharing the same amount of enjoyment in what they accomplished. Anticipating the same range of emotions as them. This was your first tornado chase and it being so successful out the door was a great performance.

He was shocked to see you clenching the doors handle for dear life with your eyes shut. At first he thought you were hurt but then realized that you were scared of the tornado that is several hundred feet behind you, still chasing you, but from a safer distance. He snaps his fingers and quickly thinks, “Hey!” Snap. “Look at me. You are safe, we are getting out of here.” His quick words make you open your eyes and lock into his, his calm exterior puts an odd sense of ease in your nerves though you know you weren’t completely away from a dangerous tornado. Again, those dark blue eyes barrow into yours. “Okay.” You softly respond back and slowly pull your fingers away from the door handle.

Steading your hands with some deep breaths. Javi also comforts you, “That was just an E-F 3, that was easy peasey! Nothing to be scared of! We’ll be with the rest of the gang in a few minutes.” He smiles in the reflection in the rear view mirror, still focusing on the road ahead of him. You just nod along and breathe deep. Scott watches you for a little long to make sure you don’t work yourself into a panic attack, partially because he really doesn’t want to deal with a stranger going crazy but because a small part of him doesn’t want you to have a panic attack.

Thankfully it wasn’t long till you all were back to a shitty Motel which was the meeting spot to review their new information being downloaded and importing it into a 3D model. Which happens to take a couple of hours to do so, but this Motel happens to be next to a little Ma and Pa diner. Many other tornado chasers ended up at the same Motel, there was already a crowd forming and music playing when you stepped out of the truck to get fresh air.

Without another word, your feet start moving to the Diner. Food and some soda should help.

You were a couple of feet away from the entrance when you heard running footsteps, looking back to see if you needed to move out the way for said runner but was pleasantly surprised to see Scott rushing over to you. Once you make eye contact, or suppose eye contact because he was wearing his sunglasses once again, he started to slow down and his long legs didn’t take long until he was close enough to speak.

His face is still straight and unbothered, he pulled his earbuds off to the side, “Was wondering where you were off so quick.” Was there some cheeky tone laced in his question? You look back forwards the Diner and smile back at Scott. “Maybe a greasy burger will put my mind to ease.” You quip back and turn your heels back in the same direction as before, “Want to join?” You ask as you're already walking to the entrance.

After ordering entries and drinks you both sit at a booth that sits next to a picture window that looks out to the mostly plain fields and hanging decorative lights connected to posts around the Diner. This town in Oklahoma was quaint, without the tornados you would consider this to be perfect.

Turning your head to face Scott, he took off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. His eyes drift towards yours once he notices that you were looking at him. “I don’t think you're made for this.” He shamelessly speaks, unsure why his words hurt you more than when Javi accused you of the same. But hearing it after the chase stung more. A small frown on your lips. Scott was quick to speak up again before you could respond. “Not saying this to be mean or rude, but what we do is dangerous and I can’t have someone freaking out all the while. I can’t focus on our job when you’re having a panic attack in the back seats.” He explains with some condescending attitude but mainly because he was still frustrated with caring slightly about you.

He couldn’t deny it. He found you rather attractive, your demeanor being a little shy but he could tell you’d warm up quickly. First introduction catches him so off-guard, your smile so bright and your voice as you say hello to everyone. ‘Such a pretty girl’ he thought as his eyes looked you up and down quickly. And he swears he thought he caught you checking him out as well. But seeing you so scared made him nervous to be in the truck, he wanted to grab you and comfort your worries away.

“Wow. No sugar coating for me huh?” You softly giggle an exhale. You knew he was right, it sucked to hear it though. “Cut right through the bullshit.” You further say and stretch your arms out to find some sort of relief. He laughs at you cursing, it was the first time hearing you curse and to be frank, it wasn’t threatening whatsoever. He found it amusing, you were cute. Especially because from his outburst your cheeks are flushed with pink embarrassment. “I don’t mess around.” He tries to play, a sly smile on his lips but you groan and put your hand on your head without seeing it. “I thought I could handle it.” You mutter into your hands, your voice sounding disappointed. Now Scott felt bad for speaking.

Quick on his feet, “Remember what Javi said; “You’re never ready for your first tornado.” You just needed to experience it.” You drop your hands down to the table and look back at the man across from you. His jaw goes up and down while chewing the same piece of gum. Staring at his lips for a few seconds before your eyes trail back to his eyes but there was a certain glimmer when your eyes connected, a smile curving his lips.

Gosh. You had no clue why every single thing he did made you have a visceral reaction. Simultaneously he knew what he was doing.

Food is placed down on your table and your mouth watered at the sight. Before you could reach out and take a bite of your anticipated meal, Scott’s voice speaks up again. “Be honest, why did you agree to come out here?” He manages to say before grabbing his hamburger and taking a greedy first bite. You shove a couple of fries in your mouth before answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tornados, I find them so interesting and a strange natural occurrence. But from a safe distance, in my lab where I can do research rather than going out in the field.” Your stomach growls at you for not taking a bite of your burger that sits so patiently on the plate. “I totally agree on what you guys are doing, I want to help people too! I just don’t think I was built for wrangling tornados like you. Plus my boss dragged me out here.” You chuckle while biting now at your food. Already feeling better or maybe it was the company of Scott that put you to ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your way out of the Diner you are met with boots taking a long stride towards you and Scott. Those boots belonged to a flannel clad gentleman with a cowboy hat tilted slightly out of his face. He was clearly built and flashes a dashing smile in your direction. You could practically hear Scott rolling his eyes before the guy even got a word out. “Clipboard! I didn’t know they made scientists so pretty nowadays.” The man lowly whistles at your appearance, you quickly caught on to the ‘Clipboard’ nickname he gave Scott. “Get back to your YouTube channel Tyler.” He puffs out while sliding back his sunglasses. The cowboy named Tyler stops in front of you, quickly glancing between the two of you. “What’s your name little lady?” His voice is oddly sweet and not patronizing. You tell him your name and he softly repeats it back with a smile.

“Well then, come find me when you’re done working with a bunch of pencil pushers.” He lowers his sunglasses and sends a wink your way before walking back toward the Diner.

It was so quick you hardly noticed how Scott stopped chewing his gum and clutched down hard on his jaw, teeth slightly grinding. Turning to face Scott again, “Who the hell was that?” Your laugh pulls Scott out of his train of thought. Hearing your soft giggles at the interaction makes him almost forget why he was even frustrated in the first place. “Just one of those Hillbillies with a YouTube channel. He especially likes to throw fireworks for theatrics.” His sigh was heavy as he continued forward back to the Motel and not answering any other questions you had about Tyler.

It wasn’t long before getting back to your room. Scott dropped you off and went back to the rest of the team to discuss the 3D model, he hoped it was long enough to fully process and get a look at the models.

Following the next few hours held up in your Motel room, it wasn’t anything fancy. A small TV that frames the adjacent wall from the bed and a dingy chair and desk, the bathroom was next to them and was brightly lit by yellowed lights. Definitely not dreamy, but this was a company's purchase for the crew so you couldn’t complain.

You slightly jump out of bed when you hear a loud bang from your door. It started storming a little while ago and just thought it was a branch slamming on your door but then you heard another knock. You weren’t going to sleep but put on your pajamas and laid down to doom scroll on your phone. You're fast on your steps as you reach the door and open it slightly to see who was knocking. You were so surprised to see Scott behind the knocking.

“Well welcome back.” You greet as you open the door for him, gesturing for him, “Come in, come in.” You smile at him. You turn to go back to lounging on your bed. While doing so, Scott gets the chance to take on your appearance. A matching set of pajamas that fit your body perfectly, he swallows heavily at the sight. It was possible that he was so pent up from being out in the field for multiple weeks and hadn't been with a woman during that time either, now here you were. So sweet it’s sickening and so pretty sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking up at him with almost doe like eyes. It’s driving him up the wall.

His hands rest on his side while stepping in your room, closing the door behind him. He was slightly damped by the rain and wind outside, he breathed in the air around him. “So what brings you by? Is there another Tornado that needs to be chased?” You ask, slightly anxious to hear his response. He sees your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Oh, no. I just wanted to let you know that the model is up and running. Plus, my room’s power went out.” He explains, in the meanwhile he looks around your room, he also seemed nervous.

You nodded and were about to respond but he cut you off, “And I wanted to check up on you.” He stretches out the “and” like he was contemplating on finishing his sentence. You were pleasantly taken aback. It was nice that he was seeing if you were okay. You were flustered nonetheless and blushed. “Oh mister big and stoic is concerned for me?” You playfully jab at his demeanor, he’s quick to your mocking behavior. Again he slides off his sunglasses and places them in his shirt pocket, he hangs his head down and laughs. “Alright I’m going to go now then.” He teases back, there’s a small panic behind your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave.

“No- I mean you can hangout for a while if you want. I’m not doing much. You can wait here till your room gets power again.” It sounded just as pathetic in your head as it came out of your mouth, desperate to get more time for him. He caught on to it, “Yeah?” A small smirk crept on his lips. His figure coming closer to you, his large frame tower over you. It did something to you, “Yeah.” Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, causing you to swallow down hard.

He was taking so much space, almost suffocating. “Tell me, were you checking me out when we first met?” He was testing the waters, what kind of response were you going to give him. Either it would be welcoming or dismissive, but the way blush started creeping up your neck to your cheeks he could tell. “What? No, I mean- no. Why are you asking?” You clearly flustered at his question and lied right through your teeth and it was so obvious. “Okay.” He bites down on his gum and smiles down at you. He quickly sits next to you and faces the TV. Ignoring what just happened between the two of you, riling you up in the process.

Ignoring the building tension, “What are we watching?” He nonchalantly asks, his gum smacking in his mouth. A smug look plastered on his face watching you try to regain your composure. Skipping over his previous statements. “Um… T- The news about the weather tomorrow.” You blink. He then reaches up and takes off his baseball cap, his hair ruffles out in some crazy hat hair before he shakes it out with his other hand. His brown hair flows softly down. It’s then you take in his scent, slight sweat lingers but you can smell his cologne, it smelt like an ocean side with a hint of sandal wood. It fit him perfectly and drank up the scent to fill your senses. This man was something. His cocky attitude, his demanding presence, oddly quiet demeanor. Everything about him was causing your brain to lag. His clothes cling slightly to his body due to them dampening from the outside weather.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to the television ahead of you, you really did. But with Scott next to you, the storm outside, y’all’s conversation. It was too much for you to handle. His white button down was a bit dirty from the chase earlier from today and now cling wrapped around his arms, chest, thighs. Your mouth watering again while you ogle the man before you, it was wrong, so wrong. Hell you were technically his superior as he worked for your company, but right now it felt like he held all the power.

Then boom. A loud bang crashed against the ceiling, the storm getting heavier. It spooked you enough to jump beside you, trying to find some sort of comfort and gladly Scott gave you that. His rather large hands are quick to rest on your shoulder, sliding up and down to ease your concerns, “You’re alright, it’s just the wind. Nothings gonna’ hurt you.” He shushes in a low tone which calms you down. Though his clothes are wet and cold, his body is hot. Feeling how warm he was as you pressed deeper to his touch.

Your eyes shift from being closed to looking up at his, then glancing down to his lips. He mirrors you, both of you leaning in closer. "We shouldn't." You aimlessly try to guide yourself back into reality but your body caves. His lips ghost over yours, “Can I kiss you?” He softly asks for permission, his whole body aching waiting for your response, but didn’t have to wait any longer as you pressed your lip to his. His other hand reaches for your face, cupping the back of your neck while his other latches to your waist. Practically pulling you on top of him. You gripped his collar to stabilize yourself and followed his direction.

He pulled you on his lap, finding it comfortable. Your hands continue to grasp on to get some leverage but find it futile in the long run. The kiss begins to become heated by the seconds, occasionally breaking it to pant out quick breaths. He was taking over all your senses. Making it hard to focus on anything but him.

Scotts lips leave yours and make their way down to your neck. His attention to make you feel more than comfortable was overpowering. Your hands have a mind of their own, snaking up to his head and gently pulling his hair. Your eyes screwed shut, he watches your reactions - to see what causes the most pleasure. His hand moves around your body, around your hips and butt, around your chest groping your boobs. That seems to get some whimpering out of your lips. "You're so pretty like this." He tells in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your legs squirm around his, trying your hardest to find some pressure to grind down on. Your head rushes with blood, finding it hard to wrap your head around pleasure. "I mean you're pretty regardless, but fuck." He groans through his teeth.

You moan into his mouth as he captures your lips for another kiss.

“Be honest with me again.” You nod, slightly still ditzy after that heated kiss. “Were you staring at my arms earlier?” There’s a slight teasing tone- actually, more like a cocky tone. He was still on about this. You nod your head a little sheepishly, having to admit it made it feel shameless. “I knew it! You were checking me out! Thought I caught you, but I wasn't sure I was making things up in my head.” He barks out a quick laugh and continues to kiss up your neck, drawing more airy moans and some giggles.

“What, no smart-ass response huh?” He teases. And he was right, you couldn't think of any kind of response, your mind is fogged up. Mewing out was the only response as he found the spot on your neck. He continues to work you up, all while dry humping him, your pajama shorts riding up in the process. His clad trousers gave the perfect mount. His growing erection being more prominent and pressed tight in his boxers and pants, now with you moaning in his ear and grinding on him shamelessly.

You did try your best to quiet down, even with the storm outside these walls were thin and god forbid if any of you teammates heard what noises were coming from in your room, there would be no question what was happening between the two of you. But his hands and mouth on you made you uncontrollable. He thought quickly to fix this predicament. "Shush, baby, no more whining. Here - here" He coos, moving one of his hands and sticks his index and middle finger in your mouth. Shutting you and your withering moans up. Your mouth drooling over his digits. Your eyes are half glazed over, if you had the consciousness to see what you looked like you’d be ashamed how easily you were subdued. Falling under some sort of submissive headspace. It was so quick you hardly noticed it happened, but maybe you wanted this for a while now. Especially after the rough and exhausting day you had, you just wanted someone to take the reins in for you.

And now the pet name, you wanted to hear him call out for you with that every time from now on. "Look at you, such a desperate thing you are, huh? Isn’t that right baby.” You nod aimlessly, his fingers pressing down on your tongue. You were putty in his large hands, not that you were complaining. Your hands fumble with his shirt's buttons, at a sad attempt to take it off yourself. He thought of mocking you once again for this poor attempt but chose to lend a helping hand. Assisting with the majority of buttons you and him manage to take off his uniform top, catching a look of his chest you moaned again. He was cut with a light amount of chest hair, your sounds muffled with his fingers. It was hard to calm yourself, you were like a dog in heat, nothing was quite satisfying your needs yet. You needed more - more of him. "Fuck'n hell. You are just so needy." His hair crazed by your frantic hands, lips were bright pink, and eyes half lidded. Talk about needy, he wanted you with the same amount of passion.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a groan of frustration comes out of your mouth. “Please, please, please.” You aimlessly beg. For what? You and him knew, for him to finally fuck you rather than all his teasing. But Scott needed you to verbally admit it to him. “Huh? What do you need? Spit it out.” Again the condescending tone loud and clear, he does this to rile you up. For knowing him for such a little amount of time, he knew how to press all the right buttons. "Please, I need you." you mutter in his ear while closing your eyes and pressing your head between his shoulder that meets his neck. It was more like a whimper than begging but the overloading sensations were driving you in a haze. Still humping his leg, it was quite a sight that even left Scott to groan. But he can’t let you off that easily, that would be too nice. He kicks off his shoes and socks, preparing for the inevitable.

"By “I need you”, that really means that you want me to fuck you.” Taunting you even further, you squirm under his grasp at the boldness his words were. You nod your head, knowing your voice would betray you.

He acknowledges your approval and lays you backwards towards the bed. Your head close to the edge and him by the pillows, he rests on his knees. His body still covered most of your space, he was just so big. "First we're going to take off this little matching set." His voice sounds airy, your legs spread open to invite him to get even closer to your body which he gladly scoots in. His hands reach for the hem of your top and pull it flush off your body. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting your hot body. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you were quick to discover that Scott leaned down to give each of them a kiss. His hot tongue swiftly swirled around your left one, but he didn't stay long as he gave the same treatment to your right. You watch him, his eyes never leaving your sight.

His lips travel down your sternum to reach your belly, he peppers kisses along the way, all while giving you short praises. All of his words make you pant.

Reaching your matching shorts, he slips both hands up your thighs and grabs the hem to pull the shorts off of you. Once off, you were left only in your panties. A small spot clearly dampened in the center, it would be embarrassing to you normally but you were so aroused. He practically moans at seeing it. Knowing he worked for you enough. He continues to scoot back so he could comfortably lay his head on your thighs. He takes in your scent, fingers loop and starts pulling your panties off. You throw your head back from the anticipation, then a sharp swat on your inner thigh makes you pop your eyes down back at him. "Eyes on me, you better watch me eat you out." The tone being similar to the voice he had in the truck when he calmed you down, it was assertive and demanding.

You clench down on nothing and start to squirm, he rubs the spot he smacked and gives you a soft kiss, it felt like an apology. He breaks his gaze and looks at your cunt. It makes you a little nervous at first, closing your legs at first, but he tells you off. "What? You're shy now?" He tisks, looking back up at you. Almost like a warning. "You were just begging for me to fuck you." His words made you gush, you could feel how hot your cheeks were burning. Your voice squeaks, "I'm sorry." This apology makes him stop, "It been a while since she's gotten some attention huh baby?" He questions but already knows the answer, yes it has been a while. Referring to your pussy as "she". You nod as an answer.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take care of her and you." That cocky attitude shines bright while he begins his work. His lips kissing the skin around your desperate cunt. Some dragged out moans are flying past your lips, it really had been a long time since being with another person, especially someone who knew how to get you this excited.

Unwarranted your hips buck at his face, your body was fed up by all this teasing. His hands pin down your thighs, stopping you from future bucking.

Those pink soft lips finally make contact with your most sensitive part of your body, causing you to yelp. He found this adorable, already moaning. It was blissful, he knew what he was doing. Circling his tongue. Now and then flickering down to your cunt, your hips try to wiggle but his strong grip holds you down at his mercy.

Your hands go from covering your mouth so you didn't tell from the pleasure, to the comforter, to his hair to pull him closer. You continue to stare down at Scott as he does his work, trying your best to not thrash your head back and groan. But by keeping your eyes open you can see him grind down on the bed, he was getting off from eating your pussy. And rightfully so in his opinion, you tasted amazing, if he could he would keep you here for an eternity without any complaint.

While tongue fucking your hole, his nose brushes against your clit. Sending shock waves throughout your body, making you a moaning mess. Chanting his name with pleas and curse words. A tightness builds in the pit of your stomach, your thighs close his head between them. Keeping him in this position. Your back to begging, babbling out slurred sentences barely coherent with moans breaking mid way through and you losing your train of thought.

It was almost amusing to see you this unwired, usually you were a very punctual person. Now here you were cumming all over a man's face that you met less than 24 hours ago. A man you only know his first name, but Scott was something over worldly. Your voice pinches in a high note as your climax racks through your entire nerve system. Screwing your eyes tightly, blinding white light flooding your vision.

Hell, he almost came in his boxers watching you cum. Watching tornadoes for a living was thrilling but seeing you come undone with just his tongue was 10 times more exciting for him. Now he needs to see you cum again but this time in his dick.

Fluttering your eyes open to your own personal show, Scott lifted back and sat up right. He's focused on unzipping his pants unaware that you lifted yourself on your elbows to watch. Once he spots you, he pulls out his wallet from his pants and takes out a condom that was tucked in a sleeve. 'How cliché' you think. One hand pulls down his pants and boxer while the other rips open the condom wrapper. A simple act being so seductive when he did it.

Your eyes could contain themselves from peaking down at his dick. The tip was hot pink, pebbling pre-cum down his shaft. He was a big boy. You were practically salivating at the sight, he almost laughs at your drooling. He rolls the condom on swiftly. "How do you want to do this?" His voice piercing your ears, looking back at his blue eyes. You were puzzled at the question, he simplifies for you. "What position?" He states it obvious, but not rude.

Without a second thought, "Can I ride you?" He groans loudly at your words. But regains his composers, "Of course you can baby." He smiles, his gum still smacking against his teeth. You had completely forgotten he was even still chewing gum. He lay down on the pillows beneath him. His teasing manner doesn't affect you as much, you were determined to give him a good show. Meanwhile you crawl your way between his legs and settle to ride this tornado wrangler.

His chest heaves, he was so much larger than you. Your legs just about wrap beside his hips as you position yourself. Bending over his tall torso you plant a kiss on his jaw, leading to his lips. He kisses you with a passion similar to a fire, your hands drop to his chest to steady yourself. Pulling away and reaching below you.

A sharp hiss slips past his closed teeth, your hand wrapping itself around him. Your hands were soft, unlike his, the feeling being unfamiliar to him. You found pleasure from watching his face scrunch up. Lining yourself and making your way down. His large hands grip on your waist at the contact.

A choked moaning rips through your throat. Fuck it had been a while since you had a dick up in there and the stretch was unwelcoming with a full sense of pleasure. "That's it." He groans while his head is pressed down on the pillow.”Holy shit baby! You are squeezing the shit out of me.” A mixture of a chuckle and moaning follows behind his words. "Relax baby, let me in." He breathes heavily, lifting his head up. Scott's hands grip harder on the small fat on your hips. Stilling your moving till you start relaxing your muscles.

“I know, I know. Just a little more baby, c’mon you’re a big girl." His voice is hoarse. You could have come from that voice alone. You slow your movements, focusing on your breathing and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once your body's are flushed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You couldn't make a noise. Now was his opportunity to be a moaning mess. The way your cunt swallowed his cock was velvet, you were causing so much pleasure, he was almost lost of words. Almost.

"You better ride baby." It almost sounds like a threat. His unwavering pissy personality showed true and you couldn't say no, you did as you were told.

Lifting yourself up and letting gravity do the rest of the work. You started slow at first. You were still adjusting to his size, he was heavy in your cunt.

That slow pace was short-lived as Scott's hands dragged you back and forth. His grip was bruising, his jaw clenching down while watching how his cock is meeting together with your pussy. You looked quite spectacular from his laid position, your palms flat to his stomach, your tits bouncing up and down with you. The faces you make, filled with nothing but unadulterated bliss.

He's held on for the best he can, letting you get a couple of minutes for you to be doing mostly all of the hard work. But his knees bend behind you and he lifts you slightly above his hip. Then he begins his own rhythm to fuck into you, thrusting his hips and greedily taking you. Not that you were complaining. The air is knocked out of your lungs, ending up at a silent groan, helping with your noise control.

The incessant, slapping noise of him rutting in your cunt was loud. Though you tried to contain yourself, it was impossible that the rooms parallel to each side of you didn't know what was happening. The small room is filled with flesh meeting, heavy breathing, groans and moans. "Feels fuckin fantastic, you love this big dick in your little pussy." He can't help but voice his thoughts, unwavering. You wordlessly nod as he continues, "Huh baby? Fuck'n shit. This pussy is going to be the death of me!" He rolls his head back, stalling his thrust momentarily. Soaking in the way your cunt squeezes him.

Gaining more air to your lungs you can finally moan out his name, sounds like the angels from above calling out to him. if he could hear his name come out of your mouth continuously then it might just be heaven.

Again that tightness is winding up quickly. Even more intense than your last orgasm. Trying to shut you up now was going to be an impossible hop to leap through, yet at this point both you and Scott were so focused on each other and blocking the outside world, you could care less when your combined moans.

As your own orgasm was approaching, you could tell Scott's wasn't that far behind as you. His movements become irregular and his knees start to buckle from losing momentum.

It was all a blur when your second orgasm ripped through your whole body. You collapse on the 6'4ft man, your whole body shakes above him. Your head spins, it feels as if you were drunk. Definitely drunk on his cock.

When you come to, he is lifting you back to the side for him to pull out. His condom partially filled with his semen, he knots it before discarding it in the small waste bin by your night stand. The storm outside still roars loudly, you're glad you're stuck in your motel room with him.

He lays back down on your bed, "I think I just died a few seconds ago, I've come back to life." Scott exclaims, his pupils expanded to almost cover the blue hue, rather they were almost black. He really was coming down from such a high.

Shallow breathing through your nose before turning to face Scott. His face looks so fucked out, no doubt you look the same. His hair is wild and there are faint lipstick marks on his face and neck caused by you. "I haven't came that hard in months." You were still breathless from what he had done to you. "I can say the same." Dry and quick laughs come from both of you. “You made me swallow my gum.” You still try to compose yourself.

Both of you lay down under the covers of the Motels comforter. Lazily turning your head in his direction, you could easily fall asleep in his arms right now. He holds you close, his body warm surrounding you in a comfortable state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stay the night?" You ask, similar to a plea. And how could Scott say no to that face? That was short lived, "I need a big strong man to protect me from the storm." He watches you giggle, amused by your own joke. It was laced with faux concern. "Only because your room has power." He pokes fun back. You were giggling at his joke.

Your laughter comes to a halt when the lights above you and TV shut of. f all of a sudden, causing you to jump back into Scott's arms. He's once again amused, "You know you're really jumpy for a tornado lab scientist." He quips back. You try to act hurt by his comments in hopes of retracting his statement for an appraisal instead, but he saw right through your act and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

You stayed together until the morning.

[vexwerewolf]

Showrooms of LANCER Manufacturers

IPS-N

IPS-N showrooms are what you'd get if you slammed a truck dealership, a hardware store, a camping gear shop and a sports bar together in the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. We're talking row upon row of shelves stocked with the most precision-engineered engine parts you can print on one side of the floor, and on the other, durable, hard-wearing survival gear. Camping stoves you can run off of your mech's coldcore, sleeping bags that'll survive a HEX charge, automatic camo cloth, the works.

Right down the middle, you've got the mech floor. They've got the Tortuga. They've got the Blackbeard. They've got the Drake. They've got the Lancaster and the Kidd. They've got the Vlad (they put a chain-link fence covered in DO NOT TOUCH signs around that one after the infamous CFO's 10-year-old Incident). They've even got the Raleigh, kinda tucked away a little bit behind the water feature, but it's there!

Everything on the shop floor is ruggedized to the point that you could take a mech's fist to it without leaving a dent - and they sometimes do that to demonstrate the engineering quality. There's a giant screen hanging from the ceiling displaying constant advertising for the mechs and IPS-N in general, usually striding purposefully through idyllic Diasporan wilderness or doing hard, honest work like starship loading or construction. There's a mixtape of the most famous bro-country hits playing 24/7.

Smith-Shimano Corpro

In a word: bespoke. Everything in this place is custom. Each and every desk is individually built according to the height of the salesperson who sits behind it, and manages to be a unique art piece without disrupting the overarching aesthetic of the showroom. Whenever there's a change of staff on the sales floor, they rearrange every single desk so that they're still in ascending order.

All of the salespeople are inhumanly pretty, by the way. This atelier has its own fully-staffed makeup and wardrobe team. You're part of a work of art when you work for SSC. Everything and everyone gleams. Even the most chic visitors might feel underdressed in the midst of all this splendour.

The mechs aren't just there to be sold, they're there to be part of the experience. You might see a Monarch holding up the ceiling like the titan Atlas himself. A Mourning Cloak might be posed provocatively like a nude statue. That Swallowtail - is it in a slightly different position every time you see it, or is that just its camouflage decals? How does it always manage to be just inside your line of sight, even when you're looking somewhere else?

They have a catwalk, like you'd see at a fashion show, but it's sized for mechs. If they really think you might make a purchase, they'll queue up the entire performance for you, and you'll get to see a Viceroy strut.

The mix tape for this showroom is a seamless mixture of complex jazz, psychedelic ambient and classical piano music. It's sophisticated and mysterious.

Harrison Armory

Imagine if America could be a showroom. Harrison Armory mech outlets are part dealership, part museum. Every mech is in its own diorama, depicting some heroic event in the Armory's glorious history. A phalanx of Sherman Mk. Is holds the line against some Diasporan slaver-tyrant's army. A Saladin fends off Karrakin hordes during the Interest War. The Genghis Mk. II? Oh, that diorama isn't open right now, it had to be closed for *coughcoughcough* and *coughcoughcough* but let's move on shall we heh heh

Everyone who works here has been in the Colonial Legion at some point, and knows every specification of the mechs they sell off by heart without even looking at their slate. If possible, the Armory tries to employ people who have actual combat experience with the mechs they're selling; people who can speak to the efficacy of their technology first-hand. It's one of the many programs which the Armory has open for retired veterans; it's easy work for decent pay, good benefits and it looks great on your Social.

The music here is a constant loop of patriotic Armory anthems. If you've ever heard the music from Starship Troopers, or the Outbreak of War from Star Ocean, you'll know what I'm talking about.

HORUS

Being a decentralized omninet collective with no official branding or even consistent manufacturing standards, it should come as no surprise that HORUS has no showrooms.

ERR:CONNECTION_INTERRUPT

CartesianWhisper: P55555t CartesianWhisper: Ignore that 5hithead CartesianWhisper: They don't have any idea what they're talking about CartesianWhisper: You want a mech, kid? CartesianWhisper: And I'm not talking the tra5h the Purv5 try to 5ell you CartesianWhisper: Or that overpriced garbage 55C want5 you to mortgage your genetic5 for CartesianWhisper: Or the macho trucker bull5hit IP5-N i5 trying to hawk CartesianWhisper: I'm talking about the REAL DEAL CartesianWhisper: The PROPER 5TUFF CartesianWhisper: Log on to rgx0582.node-7.c4l.omni CartesianWhisper: I'll 5how you what true power mean5 >:]

[whxtedreams]

Forgetful Love

A Joel x reader birthday oneshot

Summary: she wasn't surprised that he forgot her birthday. Considering the weight he carried on his shoulders, it was a given that it would slip his mind. But she knew that Joel would make it up to her, as he always did.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Birthdays, forgotten birthday, joel just trying to do his best, sad!joel, sarah and tommy mentioned, fluff, hiking trip, reader has she/her pronouns, third person POV

Main masterlist

Joel Miller has a very bad habit of forgetfulness.  

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he could not quite shake the inclination to forget important details. Whether it was a scheduled appointment, Sarah’s sleepover parties at his house, or even where he last left his keys, the man’s memory often failed him in the most inconvenient of moments.

His mind was constantly overloaded, buzzing with endless to-do lists and responsibilities. It was a never-ending whirlwind of tasks, each demanding his attention and care. No wonder he often forgot things—there was simply too much information swirling around in his head. She could see it in his eyes, could almost hear the gears in his mind grinding as he tried to juggle everything.

So really, she wasn't surprised that he forgot her birthday. Considering the weight he carried on his shoulders, it was a given that it would slip his mind. She understood that his forgetfulness wasn't done out of ignorance or indifference, but merely a result of being so caught up in the chaos and commotion of life.

The day was spent in the quiet haven of her kitchen, where music played softly in the background, filling the air with a soothing, familiar melody. The rich, sweet aroma of chocolate cake hung in the air and the taste of a cool, sweet, iced coffee on her tongue.

When the cake had cooled and iced, the turntable played static at the end of the record and the ice coffee turned warm, Joel texted.

A lot.

Joel: i am the worst person on earth Joel: sarah waited until NOW to remind me Joel: not that its her fault. thats all on me Joel: i fired her as my mini assistant BTW Joel: happy birthday Joel: im sorry Joel: i love you Joel: im coming over now

The texts from Joel, no matter when they arrived, brought a soft smile to her face. Whether it was at 12am this morning or as the clock ticked over to tomorrow, she couldn’t bring herself to feel upset.

She could picture the scene that more than likely unfolded in her mind. She imagined Sarah casually mentioning the forgotten day as Joel strolled through the door, his keys slipping from his fingers as he panicked. Then, a stream of swears escaping him as he frantically searched for his phone, only to realize it was still in his truck, where he had left it after a long day’s work. And to top it all off, his phone was, predictably, dead because he had forgotten to charge it… again.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she thought about how the scenario was bound to play out. Deep down, she knew that forgetfulness and chaos were just a couple more quirks in the man she loved. That’s why she had already taken the initiative to order takeout, ensuring that even if the day didn’t start perfectly, it would at least end the way it should.

As she stood in front of the table, the evidence of her efforts laid out before her—the homemade cake and the take-out food neatly arranged and plated—she couldn't help but feel a mix of affection and amusement.

She took a quick photo and sent it to him in response to his texts.

*photo attached* Don’t stress!

Ten minutes after she had sent the picture, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment. Joel had finally arrived and she could hear the soft shuffle of his feet as he made his way inside. She waited expectantly at the dining table and watched as he strode around the corner, flowers in hand.

Flowers from his garden.

He trudged towards the table, his shoulders drooped in a mix of defeat and disappointment. The bouquet of flowers in his hand sagged slightly as he approached, and he stopped just short of the table. His eyes met the food laid out before him. "I should have been the one to do all this for you," he mumbled, his frown deepened with guilt.

She attempted to ease his guilt; her voice soft as she spoke. "It's okay," she assured him, watching as he sank into the chair at the table. But she could see from the guilt-ridden expression on his face that he wasn’t convinced, his eyes downcast as he settled into his seat.

She gently took the bouquet from his hand and brought it to her face, inhaling deeply. The sweet, familiar scent filled her senses—a fragrance that reminded her of both him and his daughter. It was a warm, comforting smell, like a snapshot of their lives together. Smiling into the petals, she held the flowers close.

“These are really pretty.” She said.

“Sarah picked them, wrapped them up for you,” Joel's voice was soft as he spoke and just as her fingers traced the delicate petal of a flower, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box and placed it on the table, “even made you this.”

Her smile widened as she carefully opened the box, revealing the origami animals inside. One by one, she took them out. Her laughter filled the room as she admired each one. The origami creatures were a little wonky and uneven, but they were endearing in their imperfection.

“Can see she’s really taking those books I got her seriously.”

"Got a real talent for it. Everything she picks up, she does it perfectly.” As Joel spoke, his fingers fidgeted with the strap of his watch. A frown etched deep on his face.

Her intuition picked up on the nuance behind his words, and she couldn’t help but notice the undercurrent of comparison and self-criticism in his tone. It was clear to her that Joel struggled with feelings of inadequacy.

She placed the origami down beside the flowers and reached gently across the table, her hands enclosing his fidgeting ones. Her voice was soft and reassuring as she spoke, offering comfort and support. "She gets it from you," she said. "Her determination, her talents—they come from you. You've given her the building blocks to excel. You're not the failure you think you are, Joel."

“I forgot your birthday.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I should have taken you out for dinner, bought you gifts and made you feel special. Instead you bought your own dinner and cooked your own damn birthday cake.” Joel let out a deep sigh, his eyes met hers as he pressed her hand to his lips and placed a gentle, tender kiss on her knuckles.

Her words were soft and sincere as she spoke, her eyes meeting his. "You always make me feel special. Just being here is enough." she confessed. A smile tugged at her lips as she added, "And let's be honest, I make a damn good cake. I would have done that anyway." The lightheartedness in her tone elicits a laugh from Joel, his head shook in amusement as he dropped her hand.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards; a tender smile formed as he looked at her.

He nodded, conceding to her words with a mock reluctance. "Yeah, alright," he huffed as his gaze shifted down to the spread of food laid out before him on the table.

As she stood to take the flowers into the kitchen, Joel continued, "I've cleared my plans for next weekend," he said, a note of excitement in his voice. "We're going to hit that hiking trail I've been talking about. It's got a real nice river and views."

She chuckled to herself as she filled a vase with water and placed the flowers inside, their vibrant colors adding warmth to the room. Hearing his mention of the weekend plans, she decided to tease him a little. "I actually already have plans," she called out from the kitchen.

As she returned to the dining table, carrying the vase of flowers in her hands, she noticed the disappointment etched onto Joel's face. His expression mirrored a mixture of surprise and a touch of hurt, realizing that she had other plans for the weekend.

Without him.

She set the vase of flowers down in the center of the table. Then, she took her seat across from him. Her movements were slow and deliberate, prolonging the anticipation. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she met his gaze.

She began to dish their dinners and she smiled to herself as she spoke. "You see," she began, her tone lighthearted, "there's this guy who forgets everything under the sun." She paused, letting the words sink in as she met his gaze, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "I had a feeling he would forget today. That he'd be all mopey about it and try to make things up by taking me away for the weekend. So, I already planned to spend my weekend with him."

Joel's eyes settled on her and his smile radiated with adoration. The look on his face was almost reverent, his gaze softened with love and appreciation. The corners of his lips tugged upward and his heart felt fuller than ever before, grateful for her understanding and patience with him.

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked.

 Without hesitation, she responded, her voice filled with unwavering certainty.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

Hand in hand, Joel led the way as he guided her along the path. Her gaze, however, was fixed on the ground at her feet. He had teased her multiple times, telling her that she was missing out on the scenic views by looking down all the time. However, she couldn’t help it—the fear of tripping over a rock or root made her keep her focus on the ground.

He had helped her regain her balance each time, his hand steadied her as she stumbled. But by the fifth time, the teasing ceased. Replaced with a more protective, watchful gaze.

The afternoon sun was high, casting a warm glow over the landscape as they reached the river. The grass beneath their feet was soft and lush, and the tall trees provided a shady canopy overhead. The air was filled with the melodic tunes of birds, singing their hearts out, while playful rabbits darted amongst the colorful flowers.

She was at a loss for words, her eyes widened as she absorbed the breathtaking view around them. As he released her hand and continued walking, she stayed still for a moment, mesmerized by the natural beauty of their surroundings. It was only when he placed a blanket on the grass and began unloading food from his bag that she snapped out of her reverie, drawn to join him.

The sunlight glinted on his skin, and his eyes sparkled with mirth as he looked up at her, a wide smile stretched across his face. "I had to fight off Tommy this morning," he chuckled, a hint of playful exaggeration in his voice. "He came over hungover and drooled at the sight of all the food.”

She laughed and took her seat beside him. The contagious nature of his smile spread to her own lips.

They sat beside each other; their shoulders gently pressed together. Their conversations flowed easily against the backdrop of the rushing water and the gentle breeze. Their gazes danced back and forth between the flowing river and each other's eyes. An intimate atmosphere filled with stolen glances and warm smiles.

Joel's voice broke the comfortable silence as they strolled along the riverbank, stomachs full. "I really am sorry," he said, his eyes fixed on the water's edge as they walked together.

She moved closer to him, their fingers laced together as she gently nudged his shoulder with hers. A soft smile graced her lips as she hugged his arm. “I know." she said, her voice gentle and understanding. "But I was never upset with you."

“You should have been.”

“Would you have been upset if I forgot your birthday?” She asked.

“Well, no-”

Her voice was soft and comforting as she spoke, her cheek pressed against his arm, her gaze fixed on his face. "Then don’t stress yourself over it," she said, a gentle understanding smile played on her lips. "The only person who’s upset about you forgetting, is you."

His smile was subtle, barely visible on his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment of her words. There was a hint of relief in his eyes, as if a small burden had been lifted.

“I just want to do better by you.” He sighed, a shrug of his shoulders.

A buzz in her pocket grabbed her attention, pulling her gaze away from Joel and onto her phone. She pulled it out and stared down at the screen, her focus shifted from the man beside her to the message on her phone.

Sarah: Tried calling dad. Phone’s dead AGAIN. Got me thinking the two of you have fallen down a cliff or drowned or something. Sarah: also can you ask him to get juice on his way home PLEASE? Tommy drank it all

 She shook her head; a small huff of laughter escaped her lips as she glanced up at Joel.

Of course his phone was dead, she thought.

“How about we take small steps to being better, and I know just how to start you off.” She said as she poked his arm.

He hummed.

“And what would that be babe?”

“Charge your phone, Sarah thinks you’re dead.”

Joel cursed under his breath. His expression turned into a frown as he patted his pockets. He muttered that he must have left his phone back at the car.

Her lips curled into a smile as she stealthily lifted her phone and snapped a picture of Joel, capturing his grumpy expression as he searched for his missing phone.

She sent the photo to Sarah.

Here’s a photo of your very much alive dad realizing that not only is his phone dead, but back in the car. Sarah: He’ll never change Sarah: I love him.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she read Sarah's message. A pang of affection and adoration filled her chest as she gazed back at Joel, still on the quest to find his misplaced phone.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and reached out, taking hold of his hands. His grumbling continued like a low murmur in the background, the annoyance at having forgotten his phone still fresh in his mind. In response to his frustration, she gently but firmly gripped his hands, bringing his attention back to her.

Her voice was soft but firm as she told him, "I love you so much." She meant it with every fiber of her being. She loved his flaws, quirks, and imperfections with unwavering affection. She loved him completely, without reservation and with every ounce of her heart.

His response was sincere, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he replied, "I love you too." There was a visible shift in his demeanor as his shoulders relaxed, a weight lifted from the weight of his disappointment. He held her gaze, his own eyes met hers, and in that moment, she knew he saw the depth of her love reflected at him.

Despite his repeated forgetful blunders, no matter how many birthdays he managed to forget, she knew that as long as he loved her, she wouldn't hold it against him. She understood that his forgetfulness didn't diminish his feelings for her. In fact, his efforts to make it up to her only strengthened her belief in the depth of his love. It was a testament to their connection, a reminder that even if he weren't the perfect planner, his love was unshakable and unwavering.

She was sympathetic to his guilt and the weight of disappointment when he let others down. She knew how much he prioritized making the people in his life happy. That's why it was impossible for her to be upset with him. He was trying his best, and that counted for everything in her eyes. She understood his innate need to please others, and she would rather support and reassure him than hold his forgetfulness against him.

Because she loved him with everything.

And he, loved her more.

EXTRA

SARAH POV

Sarah had written the date on various notes and stuck them around the house where she knew he would see them. He didn’t see them, oblivious to them, actually. She thought sticking one on the coffee machine was the perfect place, but she should have known that her dad would miss his alarm again and end up getting a coffee on the way to work instead.

She had set an alarm to remind him in his phone too, only for his phone to be dead before he even left for work. 

She instead spent her Saturday picking flowers from their yard and bundled them into a bouquet for when her dad got home and began to freak out. She made little origami animals and left the box next to the flowers on the dining table and waited for her dad to get home.

He had come home that night, a deep sigh as he walked through the door. She didn’t need to see him to know what his face looked like when she called out it was his girlfriend’s birthday today. She heard him swear, heard his keys drop to the floor and the telltale sound of him patting his pockets to find his phone. She heard him swear again and then the front door opened and closed. She smiled to herself when he ran into the kitchen, mumbling that his phone is flat and asking her where a charger was as he digs through a bits and pieces bowl on the kitchen counter. Sarah casually held the charger in her hand and he thanked her five times. She pushed the present she made and the flowers and she could see the guilt in his face as he took them. He promised he would take her out for dinner and that movie she’s been nagging him to go see with her. 

She texted Tommy if he was free to hang out with her next weekend because she knew that her dad would take his girlfriend out for a weekend away– she had been purposefully talking about that hiking trail after all. 

And when her dad’s phone went straight to voicemail while he was away, she knew she should have found his phone and put it on charge for him. 

She didn’t mind doing any of this, they were a team after all.

Notes:

hehe it's my birthday, big old 24!

[itsnoones-stuff]

He’s definitely mad

Masterlist

Summary // it’s your best friends birthday and you decide to celebrate it in the club. Five isn’t a fan of this idea.

//

“Nice dress” Five says, looking you up and down, trying not to show his irritation at the situation. “Thanks Five” you smile, fixing your dress lightly and checking your bag. Keys, phone, purse, lipstick. All there. Letting out a light sigh you give Five one last smile, not noticing him staring, before heading for the door. Ready for a drink.

Bright lights flash in your face, momentarily lighting up the packed dance floor. The birthday girl hands you the 4th shot in the 10 minutes you’ve been there, you chuckle lightly, turning to your friend “again?” The exhaustion evident in your voice. She gives you a bright smile “it’s my birthday, no excuses!” You roll your eyes at the comment, she’s right but that doesn’t mean you can stomach another.

“Come on, let’s dance” you chirp, grabbing your friend by the arm and taking her to the dance floor. You let the music take over, swinging your hips left to right with ease, lowering your body as you do. Rising to your feet, you turn, arms swaying above you as the sound of the bass charges through your body. Completely unaware Five is watching you. As the song comes to an end you begin the slow, feeling your heart beating out of your chest as the bass leaves your body. Letting out a light chuckle you open your eyes, meeting Five’s gaze, your smile drops. He’s definitely mad.

You’ve seen Five angry before, plenty of times, but it was never at you. That’s what scared you the most. He starts to walk towards you, refusing to break eye contact, the panic sets in as you force a smile. “Hey Five, what are you doing here?” You ask sheepishly, like a child in trouble, he chuckles “keeping an eye on you” his words are sweet, even if his tone isn’t. “And for good reason, clearly” he adds, looking around the club. Turning to the birthday girl you flash her a sorry look, preparing to go home and listen to one of Five’s many lectures.

To your surprise, Five doesn’t try to take you home, instead heading to the bar for a drink. You watch as he weaves through the crowd before disappearing entirely. You turn back to your friend, throwing your arms up and jumping in excitement, “can baby stay out for longer?” Your friend mocks you, wrapping her arms around you as she does. “Baby can stay out all night” you laugh, watching her squeal with excitement before demanding more shots. Rolling your eyes, you let her drag you back to the bar, smiling to yourself as you go.

“Happy birthday beautiful” you cheer, raising your shot in the air, clinking cups with your best friend before taking the shot with ease, all the vodka you drank suddenly hitting you like a truck. The room begins the spin, your eyes fluttering. Resting your elbows on the bar you put your head in your hands, taking a deep breath and trying to collect yourself. “Are you okay Y/N?” The birthday girl asks, you nod, lifting yourself back up and facing her “all good, let’s dance” you say with a smile, taking her by the hand and heading back to the dance floor.

Five watches you all night, making sure to remove any unwanted male attention.

The night finally comes to an end, the club is closing and the sun is coming up. All you can think about it food as your friend leads you outside, flinching at the bright sun piercing down on you. “Fuck, how long were we in their?” You ask, not really wanting to know the answer, she laughs, shaking her head “I don’t know and I don’t want to know babe” her words slurred but sweet, you chuckle to yourself. “Where should we go now? I think the bar down the streets still open!” Your friend cheered, taking your hand and pulling you down the street, you stop her and remove her hand “no babe, we should go home” you say, yawning soon after, she gives you a sad nod. You know she’s going to stay out but are thankful you get to go home at least.

The birthday girl leads you to a near by taxi, ushering you in before poking her head in the door “you go home, I’m gonna stay out. Love you!” She cooes, shutting the door before you can protest.

Stumbling through the halls of the academy you try to be as quiet as you can, not wanting to wake your siblings. Turning the corner, you almost jump out of your skin, Five’s stood at the other end of the corridor. You freeze, quickly sobering up, unable look at him. “You’re in big trouble princess” Five’s words are harsh, he’s definitely mad. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, already knowing what the punishment is going to be. Was it worth it?

//

[neopuppy]

i need triple j to destroy me 🙏

“We have to do something special for Jisung’s Birthday.” Jaemin’s fingers thrum, hands crossed over his stomach as he leans back in his computer chair.

Jeno snaps and points as if he’s come up with the most brilliant idea. “Round One! He loves bowling.”

“Be serious man, he only gets to turn twenty-one once. Think about when you finally entered adulthood.”

Jeno hums, leaning back on his palms in thought. “I don’t know, he’s really disconnected these days. Always locked up in that room, he never wants to hang out whenever I invite him anywhere either.”

Jaemin silently agrees, twisting back and forth as he thinks about it more.

Jisung has been rather stand-offish these days, if he really traces out everything—he’s been pretty quiet ever since the breakup.

He tried to advise the younger, first love is hard and unrealistic. People grow up and grow apart, it happens. His little brother took it hard, secluded himself for weeks and hasn’t smiled much ever since.

“He’s such a simp..” Jaemin mutters disappointed that his influence clearly did nothing. Sitting up straight he starts to smirk. “I think I have an idea.”

“You know, he might hate us after this.”

Jaemin waves a hand dismissively at his brother, crouching down lower near the entrance to their house. “He should be fucking worshipping at our feet for this.”

“Shh shh… that’s him.” Jeno whispers, grimacing as he squats further behind a shrub of bushes. He wasn’t completely on board with this plan, but Jaemin made a point..

If their younger brother goes another month without getting some ass his dick very well could fall off, if not jump to its own tragic death.

Jisung trudges up the driveway, making this much too easy with headphones blasting music in his ears and his gaze focused on the worn down pair of sneakers slowly stepping up the incline toward the front door.

“Remember,” Jaemin hisses under his breath. “I’ll get his arms and you go for his legs.”

Everything happens suddenly, the two hidden with ski-masks hiding their faces as they charge at the youngest and manhandle him into their arms.

“What the fuck!!” Jisung shouts at the top of his lungs, face quickly draped over and shoved into the backseat of his older brother’s truck. “Jaemin?! Jeno?!!??!!”

“Shut the fuck up dude.” Jaemin growls, hopping into the driver's seat not bothering to rev the engine up before backing away and speeding out of their neighborhood.

“What the hell is this?!”

Jeno laughs at his younger sibling’s feet kicking at the door, warning him to stop before Jaemin pulls over and kicks his ass.

“Happy Birthday little bro.”

“Sit down and shut up.” Jaemin barks, pushing Jisung’s shoulders down until his lower half meets a plush seat.

“This isn’t funny!”

Jeno sneers, ripping the cover from his head. “You are no fun.”

Jisung peers around quickly, eyes going wide as he takes in his new surroundings. “Isn’t this..” he mumbles, fingers digging into the soft loveseat around his hips. “Where your ex-girlfriend works?”

Jaemin grins, pouring a drink from a bar off in the corner of the room, dim-lighting making it harder to take in each area, but enough for his gaze to linger on the silver sleek pole before him. “Of course you’d remember that, you always had a thing for her..”

Jeno plops down by his side, flicking Jisung’s chin. “Me too. I guess we all have identical taste and DNA.”

“I never had a thing..” Jisung gulps, squirming in place to get away from his brother’s side brushing against his.

“Yeah yeah.” Jaemin shoves a drink at both of them, settling near his younger brother's other side. “She’s hot, cool girl. Unfortunate things didn’t work out between us but,” he shrugs, kissing the backs of his teeth as vodka swirls down his throat. “It’s a good thing too.”

“Why?” Jisung feels more confused now, stealing looks at the pole curiously.

“Because,” Jeno smirks, nodding to the door. “Now we all get to have fun.”

Jisung’s throat locks up, choking on his next breath as the door gently creaks open and sets off a tune of music, the room growing darker with the pass of your legs entering.

“What is this?..” Jisung whispers, licking his lips nervously.

“Your gift.” Jeno nudges him, motioning ahead to where you stand and wait, back rested against the pole. “Whatever you want her to do.”

The words keep echoing in Jisung’s head—do whatever you want with her.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Jaemin whispers, leaning in close to his ear. “It’s time for you to move on.”

“I want..” Jisung clears his throat, growing more anxious by the minute, finally meeting your intrigued gaze with a furious blink to calm himself. “Want her to suck my dick.”

Jeno clasps his shoulder, proudly grinning. “Don’t tell us.” He says no more than that, playfully cocking an eyebrow at the younger.

Jisung leans into the seat more, thighs stretching apart to make enough space that you’d easily be able to fit into. “Come here.”

“On your knees.” Jaemin adds, resting to the side against the arm of the couch.

Jisung can feel his stomach clench, abdominal muscle twitching as you slip down to your knees and make your way over naturally. His knees shake, thighs jerking up and down as you settle between and peer up at him beneath hooded eyes waiting for instruction.

“Take my cock out.” Jisung croaks, throat dry with the lingering hint of alcohol leaving its burn behind. “Ask for permission.”

It should be more awkward with his brothers hovering at his sides, but Jisung can’t focus on anything other than the fan of your thick eyelashes, slowly blinking up at him as you trail up his inner thighs and squeeze at his jeans until your digits dig into the firm muscle lined up his legs. “Can I please suck your cock? Birthday boy.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in to capture your neck in both hands and bury fingers up the back neck into your hair, keeping your seductive gaze trained on him. “Think that your pretty little mouth can handle it?”

Teasing at his zipper, you nod slowly, lips parted open in surprise as he tugs at tufts of your hair and lifts his hips commanding for you to hurry up.

“Of course I can, Jisungie.”

A pleased smirk tugs at his lips, squeezing your throat to elongate the gasp you let out as your hand wraps around his girth, the tips of your fingers struggling to meet even with a tightened grip.

“Let’s see if that slutty mouth is all talk.”

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - part 14.1

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.5k | previous part | masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: okay babes I’m desperate to get this out bc this part is going to be so fucking long I had to break it up into parts

“Rhys, stop!”

Feyre’s shriek of annoyance draws your attention to the front, your eyes watching Feyre chastise Rhysand for driving almost 30 miles per hour over the speed limit. You and Azriel were in the backseat of Rhys’s car (“It’s a Tesla,” Rhys would correct), Feyre in the front seat making several comments about the way Rhys drives as if he is attempting to murder all of you.

Mor and Cassian drove separately in Cassian’s truck - you and Azriel snickered at their less than covert attempts to be alone in the apartment. The six of you had been about to hit the road when Cassian had ‘forgotten his driving sunglasses’ and Mor had immediately offered to help. Rhys had rolled his eyes, telling Cassian the four of you were going to head off instead of waiting for them.

Rhys’s lake house was about an hour and a half away, so you and Azriel had spent that time in the back mindlessly chatting, showing each other silly videos of mostly cats. Feyre sat in the passenger seat, deeming herself in charge of the music, the three of you not caring what she put on.

Whenever Rhys and Feyre were too preoccupied in their own conversation to notice the two of you, you would slip your hand into one of Azriel’s, playing with his fingers or just squeezing lightly before pulling away.

“When do we think Cassian will show up?” You ask, making eye contact with Rhys in the rearview mirror. He scoffs, turning his eyes back to the road, “no telling. He’ll get hungry eventually, so he’ll probably show up around dinner.”

The six of you met up around two, you and Azriel almost arriving late because of your lunch date taking too long. Neither of you wanted to pretend there wasn’t something between you two, but both of you wanted to wait a bit before telling everyone, causing the two of you to linger in the parking lot for far too long, neither of you wanting to keep up the charade.

The impending deadline didn’t stop him from kissing you as if he were going off to war in the parking lot of the cafe you two went to, though. You could still taste the coffee he had on your tongue.

Feyre sighed, looking out the window, “maybe I shouldn’t have put my bag in his truck.”

You laughed, partly at her melodramatics, partly at how foolish she was to leave her bag in Cassian’s truck, “I don’t think you’re seeing that bag for a while, Fey.”

She turns her head to look at you, a scowl on her face, “you make it sound like this is my fault.”

“Well, we did put Cassian and Mor in a car together, so maybe the group is at fault. Just be thankful they didn’t pull over and have sex on top of your bag.”

Her scowl deepened, a look of disgust on her features, “my poor bag would never be the same. I would never be the same.”

“You’d have Cassian butt sweat on it.”

“Ewww, stop.”

“Or worse, his butt hair.”

You laugh as Feyre whips her head to scowl at Rhys, “and how do you know about his hairy butt?”

“Cassian spent our teenage years with a new approach to life - he was determined to be naked at any and every opportunity.” You giggle at Azriel’s words, his ears reddening a bit at the attention you were giving him.

“My mother considered kicking him out because he kept walking around naked and standing in the windows.”

You and Feyre giggled at the image, but Rhys continued. “Our neighbors kept calling and complaining. I’m actually not sure how she got him to stop.”

“She probably bribed him. It’s the only way with him.” You quirk an eyebrow at Azriel before he continues, “nothing ever got to him as a kid - yelling, getting in trouble, praising him. But bribery always worked on him.”

You turn to Azriel, pointing your head in the direction of the front seat, “what was Rhys like as a kid.”

Az huffs, “same as now. Spoiled and annoying.”

Rhys glares at him through the rearview mirror, but Az continues. “He was a bit pompous, always talking about how rich his family was.”

You watch Az try to keep from smiling as Feyre laughs, before reaching a hand out to pinch Rhys’s cheek. The movement pings something in your mind, telling you to ask about it later.

“I did not.”

“You once came to school in a helicopter.”

Rhys sinks a bit in his seat, but you file this whole conversation away in a folder of your brain titled ‘ask again later’. You had a vague sense of things you had picked up over time - Rhys’ parents were technically married, but his dad would travel a lot. Rhys’ mother and sister died at some point. Somehow Azriel and Cassian came into the picture.

It was a bit fuzzy, and you never found out why Cassian lived on his own away from Rhys and Az. You had little pieces, but you needed some way to connect the. You filed it away, just allowing yourself to enjoy the car ride.

The ride eventually reached a lull where the two of you sat in the backseat texting each other while Feyre and Rhys talked mindlessly about goats, maybe. You really weren’t sure what was going on up there.

Azriel: did you know all the guys in this town are riddled with disease

Azriel: so you shouldn’t get anywhere near them

Azriel: just to be safe

You: I like disease-riddled men

Azriel: is now a good time to tell you I had chicken pox as a kid

You: oh really?

You: Mmm itchy men

Azriel: I regret this

You: do you have any scars from it?

Azriel: that’s classified

You: I’ll just have to go around searching for them from other men

Azriel: wait no

Azriel: no no no no no

Azriel: this is a joke right

His eyes snap up to you after you refuse to respond to him, and you have to stifle a giggle at the way he’s looking at you.

You: I’m a changed woman. I prefer disease free men now

Azriel: thank god you’ll stay away from Cassian now

You look up at him with wide eyes before you type back furiously.

You: Azriel we share an apartment what do you mean

You: I let him drink my coffee the other day

You: Azzy please tell me you’re joking

You huff as each of your texts is met back with the three dots indicating he was typing. You looked over at him to find him typing random letters before backspacing to allow the dots to stay up.

You: meanie head

Azriel: you’re the one who said you preferred disease riddled men

You: they wouldn’t treat me like this

You: I would be a queen to them

You: me and my disease riddled king

Azriel: that implies you are their diseased queen

The two of you continue trying to stifle giggles as Rhys drives, Az’s hand moving to squeeze your thigh. You’re so distracted by texting him and his hand on your thigh you don’t notice where you are until the car is pulling into a neighborhood of massive houses that could likely fit multiple families with room to spare. You sit up straighter, looking out the window at these multi-dollar houses and wonder if this was a vacation home, what did Rhys’ house look like growing up?

You knew Rhys’s dad’s lake house was going to be a ridiculously large house. You knew that before, you knew that as the car drove through the neighborhood, but pulling up into the driveway it was as if you had completely forgotten. The house was massive - it had to be at least three floors above ground, and the property it was on was large too.

Rhys’ car slows across the long driveway, no other cars around. You have to strain your neck to look at the house in its entirety - it was beautiful - three or four floors, large windows showing off spacious areas on the second and third floors. It was a mix of the classic lakehouse look, but with slightly modern twists to it. All you could think about while looking at it was how long it would take to clean it. Most of your squabbles with Cassian were over whose turn it was to do dishes, and you knew this place would really test your friendship with him if you lived here.

Or maybe he’d just be able to better hide his messes in this house.

“How long would this take to clean?”

Your voice comes out a bit squeaky before you clear your throat, looking over at Az.

“You think Rhys’s dad does his own cleaning?”

Rhys parks his car in the garage, the four of you getting out. Rhys opens the trunk, and you reach out to grab your bags but Azriel beats you to it, slinging your duffle bag over his shoulder. He crinkles his nose at your pout, sticking his tongue out as he walks into the house. You follow after him, taking in how nice his back looked through his shirt.

Azriel heads to the stairs, taking Feyre to her room, but you fall back to take in the living room. You could host a house party in this living room and fit a hundred people easily. You siddle next to Rhys, watching him play with the lid of his coffee in one hand, his phone lit up in the other.

“Are you worried at all about your dad showing up?”

Rhys sips his coffee before answering, “I’d be more shocked than anyone if he showed up here. Az, Cass, and I once spent an entire summer camped out here. Didn’t even catch a glimpse of him.” He shrugs, his face looking indifferent as his phone screen displays the ‘find my friends’ app, and he looks quizzically at the screen, trying to figure out where Cassian was, you presume.

He blows out a breath, “I’m gonna call him.”

You walk away, opting to look at the photos that decorated the walls. The living room is covered in them, all shapes and sizes of frames littered the yellow wall. You see photos of younger versions of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys, photos from when they were about ten or so until pretty recently, if you had to guess. You can watch them grow, the three of them looking so unsure of themselves at various stages.

The young photos of Azriel are littered with an air of sadness to them, his eyes not quite as bright as they are now, bandages still lingering on his hands for a long time. Azriel’s the smallest in what you think is the first photo, not much more than skin and bones, his now tan skin had a sickly pale hue to it. A woman and a young girl are in the photos with them, the five of them all looking remarkably similar - it’d be very easy to convince others that the two boys were Rhys’s brothers. The photos are all tan skin, dark curls limp in some photos from the ocean water. They are scattered across the wall, no chronological order to them, but if you lined them up you could watch the three of them grow.

The photos made you feel a well of emotion - how someone could be so cruel to someone so small, so defenseless. But as the photos continued and Azriel blended in more with this family, it made you feel so proud of him for opening himself up like that, when all he knew was pain.

He hadn’t told you the extent of his childhood - just that his family was awful, he hadn't seen or spoken to them in a decade, and his step brothers burned his hands. But the pictures of this small, helpless boy looking so lost at the lake spoke volumes for him.

Rhys put the phone down from his ear as he hung up. “They’ll meet us at the restaurant for dinner. He muttered something about a pit stop before hanging up on me.”

He gazes at the photos as he stands next to you, his eyes landing on the one you’ve been staring at. It involved a very young Azriel, fresh bandages adorning his hands. The striking woman was holding him so delicately, as if her arms squeezed him too hard he’d burst in her hold.

“That’s my mom.”

His voice catches you off guard, not expecting much of anything from him. He points at the photo, his finger tapping slightly on the glass.

“She’s beautiful.”

He hums in agreement, “she loved Az. She fought so hard for him. First person to fight for him, really. Spent a shit ton of money getting custody of him.”

That surprises you, but you leave it there for now, keeping your eyes on her smiling face. His gaze lingers on her soft smile, “she loved all of us, but boy did she love Az.”

You watch his mind go somewhere, not wanting to intrude, about to step away when he speaks up again. “That’s my sister. Kaylah.”

His finger moves to a photo nearby, landing on the young girl that Cassian had hoisted on his shoulders.

“She’s cute.”

“She loved bothering Cassian. The two of them butted heads more than any of us combined.” His voice was full of love and nostalgia. “She once got so mad at him she pulled her shoe off and threw it at his head. He was so chuffed he didn’t notice her throw the other, both of them hitting his eyes. He had a black eye for weeks.”

You laugh, “oh my gods, what happened?”

“What happened?” He turned to you, a wide grin on his face, “we got kicked out of the restaurant we were in, and she had the audacity to ask for her shoes back because they landed at another table.” He laughs, a twinkle in his eye you had never seen before. “Oh, Kaylah was something. She always made us laugh.”

“What happened to her?”

Rhys looks down, the twinkle immediately leaving his eye, “she and my mom were hit by a drunk driver when we started school. We- it was a hard time.”

You look over at him, tentatively moving your arms around his waist and hugging him to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes you back, his citrusy scent filling your nose. “Me too.”

The two of you gaze at the photos, at a time long gone, standing in silence as if an embrace could change the ending for the subjects of the photos.

The moment’s broken by Feyre’s voice, “what’s going on here?”

You turn your face to look at her, head still against Rhys’s chest, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We’re in love. He’s having my baby.”

She gasps overdramatically, clutching her chest as she puts on a ridiculous voice, “oh my stars! The scandal!”

You giggle as Rhys unwraps himself from you, “we were going to tell everyone while we were here, but it’s true. We’re naming the baby Cassian Junior.”

Feyre breaks her resolve, giggling, “how is it Cassian Junior?”

“Cassian’s adopting him, of course.”

Feyre giggles before coming to the wall of photos, looking too. “Wow, you guys were so little!”

You laugh, “yeah now we have proof Cassian wasn’t born with a six pack.”

“A six pack of beer, maybe.”

Azriel’s voice startled you. How a man so large was so adept at sneaking up on you unaware was impressive. He stopped behind you, but you could feel his warmth through your back.

“That would explain a lot,” Rhys mutters, turning away from the photos and sitting onto the couch. He stretched out his long legs, propping them on the ottoman before him. “That drive took a lot out of me.”

“It was two hours,” you scoff, sitting on a nearby chair. Azriel followed you, sitting in the chair next to you.

“Two hours is a long time.”

“Maybe for a baby,” Feyre coos, sitting next to Rhysand, pinching his cheeks. His hands swat at hers, pushing her away with very little effort. The four of you mindlessly chatter away, Feyre telling you all about something one of her sisters recently did, until Rhys’s phone buzzed again, Mor texting him that they were half an hour away.

The four of you jump back into Rhys’ Tesla, and he rolls down the windows as he drives you all to some restaurant called ‘Mama’s’.

“But ‘Mama’s’ what?” You had asked, to which Rhys and Az shrugged.

“Just ‘Mama’s’.”

You had huffed, accepting the nonanswer for the time being. The windows give you a glimpse of the tax brackets you drove through - starting the journey in multi-million dollar homes occupied during the warm months, the landscape quickly changes to lower and middle class homes for the people who live here year round.

Rhys pulls the car into a small restaurant, fitted with outdoor lighting and seating. It was so homey - a dozen or so people stood around outside, playing some variety of games like checkers and cornhole. A couple dozen more sat at tables, eating what smelled to be the most enticing food ever created. Your stomach rumbles at the smell, and Feyre laughs at you before you poke her in the stomach with an elbow.

You spot Cassian leaning against his car, Mor standing next to him on her phone. He stretches his arms out, huffing, “finally, we’ve been waiting for you!”

Rhys promptly pushes him as he walks past, and Mor giggles as he falters a bit and she falls in line with you and Feyre and you gag at her. “You smell like sex.”

She gasps, “no I do not,” before discreetly smelling her shirt.

“No, you don’t. Made you sniff.”

She rolls her eyes, copying your words in an exaggerated voice.

The six of you find a table, and you’re seated in the middle of the booth with Feyre and Rhys next to you. Azriel sits on the end of the other booth, and you make brief eye contact across the table, sending him a soft smile.

The waitress comes up to your table, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her black clothes making her eyes pop, her name tag reading ‘Steph’. She looked at all of you, but her eyes stopped on Azriel, her smile growing wider at the sight of him.

“Hi everybody, what can I get you all to drink?”

She takes your drinks orders, rubbing Azriel’s shoulder as she walks away. Cassian laughs at Azriel’s grimace, “I think she likes you, Azzy.”

“Shut up, Cass.”

Azriel looked to you as your friends kept talking, and you offered him a smile back. His face was hard to read, but his eyes looked so sad. You cock your head to the side, trying to figure out what the problem was, but he turned his head away.

Dinner goes by in a blur, the food was delicious, the six of you spent the evening joking around, except for Azriel, who spent most of the meal quiet. The waitress came by to check on you all several times, and her blatant efforts at flirting would have been amusing if it wasn’t completely obvious how uncomfortable it made Azriel. Each time she returned to your table, you would watch him tense up as she approached, her hands always finding their way to his shoulders. On her third stop at your table, she began calling him Muffin.

Rhys paid the check, handing over the receipt to Azriel.

“For you, Muffin.”

Azriel takes it, and from next to him you can see the phone number written beneath the total. His hands crumple it, discarding it before you all made it to the parking lot. He opens your door before heading to the other side of the car after you slide into your seat. You immediately pull out your phone, your texts with Azriel lighting up the backseat.

You: hi Muffin

Azriel: I’m so sorry

You: why? Did you do something?

Azriel: for the waitress?

You: did you do something with the waitress?

You: I did go to the bathroom, maybe you slipped out and made out with her?

You can hear Azriel furiously typing on his phone.

Azriel: no no no no

Azriel: I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry she was hitting on me.

Azriel: I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t want to tell her I had a girlfriend

You: you have a girlfriend?

You: and you’ve been making out with me?

You: you dog

You peak over at him and his face is a deep red. You want to laugh but you feel a little bad about your teasing once you see his fingers shaking, having to backspace several times over misspelled words.

Azriel: I think so

Azriel: I didn’t mean to imply anything

You: so, you don’t have a girlfriend?

Azriel: I don’t know

Azriel: maybe?

You: do you want one?

You: a girlfriend, that is

Azriel: god yes

Azriel: but it has to be a specific girl

You: anyone in mind?

Azriel: I have my eye on someone

Series taglist: @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @impossibelle @hayrunnwr @just-a-social-casualty-1 @thisisew @brieflyclassymortal @glitterypirateduck @marshmummy @bookishbroadwaybish @azsteris @doriansgf @footyandformula @od-anon @judig92 @luvmoo @marina468 @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @acotarobsessed @maryssong23 @acourtofbatboydreams @herondale-lightworm @azrielover @carnelshephard

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading ❣️

[fhatbhabiee]

Cuz I Loved You

DBF!Joel Miller x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: light smut (nothing too crazy), touch of angst, heartbreak, Joel being a dick, plot twist ending, blue text is flashback from Joel's pov, pink text is flashback from readers pov

note: yes- this is based off the new Joel pic along w alittle help from @/corrodedcorpze on twitter who had the idea and yes i asked to write this before i did bc we don't steal ideas in this house

part 2

Music was playing, people were talking and enjoying themselves, and your dad was having the night of his life. He never really liked celebrating birthdays but your mom convinced him otherwise.

You were running late as usual, stopping and getting the few things that had already run out at the party. As soon as you pulled into the driveway of your parents house you saw his truck. You felt your heart drop to your asshole. It had been months since you last saw or even spoke to Joel. Why did he have to be here?

You walked through the house, leaving the supplies in the kitchen before walking to the backyard. You spotted your parents and walked over to them, completely ignoring everyone else.

If I don't see him I won't have to talk to him.

Joel's laughter quickly died down as he looked over Tommy's shoulder and saw you. His eyes quickly roamed your body- you had on your favorite red sweater- the same red sweater Joel had got you for your birthday and a pair of black leggings. You looked beautiful as ever.

“Joel.” you gasped, pulling the knitted fabric out of the bag.

“It's the one you pointed out in that window in town.”

“Oh honey thank you so much. It's beautiful.”

“Cmon try it on. Wanna see how it looks.”

“Okay.” you smiled, standing up from the couch and replacing your t-shirt with the sweater. It fit you perfectly. It was a bit baggy but by the look on your face, Joel knew you still loved it.

“Beautiful.” he smiled, gently pressing his lips against yours. “But I think it'll look better on my floor.” he smirked, hands sliding up your sides under the sweater.

“Well let's try it out.”

“Joel.” Tommy called out, pulling Joel's head out of the clouds.

“Sorry what were we talking about?”

You got up from the table your parents were sitting at and glanced over, making eye contact with Joel. His heart sank as he saw your smile disappear because of him.

He looked good- so good that it hurt. He grew his hair along with his beard- covering the patches of skin you kissed all the time. You could tell he aged some but really he looked like the same man you fell in love with.

“What's all this?” Joel asked, eyes glancing over the dining room table.

“Well you told me you were working late so I'd thought you'd enjoy a hot meal.” you said as you poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to him. “Plus since we can't do date night this weekend I thought tonight was good.”

“I coulda put Tommy in charge.”

You let out a laugh. “Joel Miller don't make me laugh. You know good and well leaving Tommy in charge is the reason why you have more gray hairs then brown.”

He chuckled and kissed you softly. He pulled away and looked into your eyes for a moment, smile still spread across his lips.

“I love you.” he whispered. You were surprised. You were always the one to say the L word first in relationships but Joel beat you to the punch.

“I love you too.”

“Sweetie?” your mom called out, making you look over at her. “Oh sweetie…” she whispered, reaching up and wiping the tear that rolled down your cheek with the pad of her thumb.

When did you start crying?

“Come on. Let's go inside for a minute.” she grabbed your hand and walked you into the house.

“Mom it's fine. Just my allergies acting up.”

She laughed. “I wasn't born yesterday.” she handed you a glass of water. “Seeing him must be hard huh?”

You felt the heat go to the tip of your ears. “H-How did-”

“A mother knows. And after you two broke it off you stopped coming around and Joel was nothing but a mess. Sarah was calling your dad left and right because she couldn't get ahold of him.”

You couldn't lie to yourself, hearing Joel was a mess was oddly comforting. The sounds of his footsteps approaching the kitchen made your mom go quiet. She looked up at Joel and then back over at you.

“Do you want me to stay?” your mom whispered.

“No it's fine…”

“Okay… I'll be outside if you need anything.” she said to you, giving her a quick nod before she walked out of the house, leaving you and Joel alone for the first time in months.

“How have you been?” he muttered, finally breaking the silence after about 5 minutes.

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.” he replied.

“Good.”

“That's all you're gonna say?” he scoffed.

“Well you had a mouth full to say the last time I saw you.” you crossed your arms over your chest, digging your nails into the palms of your hands and repeating yourself not to cry in front of him.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when the sliding back door opened and people walked in.

“Can we go somewhere private?” you gave him a small nod and led the way upstairs to your old bedroom, closing the door behind both of you.

“Look I'm sorry…”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “If 'I'm sorry’ is all you have to say I think I'll be on my way now.”

“Would you let me finish a sentence?”

“No Joel I will not! You don't deserve my time, you don't deserve to even be standing in front of me, speaking to me.” you yelled.

“I don't deserve it?” he yelled back. “You're fucking joking right?”

“Does it look like I'm laughing? You broke up with me, Joel Miller. You were the one that said it was too much. You were the one that wanted out. Not me.”

“Because you wanted all this life I couldn't give you! Do you not understand that I'm more than twice your age? I don't want to start over!”

You faced away from him, quickly wiping your eyes with your fingers.

“Don't cry…” he said in a soft tone.

“I am crying Joel. I'm crying cause I loved you and I hate you for that.” He walked over, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry.”

“Fuck you and your sorry.” you walked towards the door but he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him.

“Fuck you Joel! Let me go.” you placed your hands flat on his chest and tried pushing him back but he wouldn't budge. “Fuck you.” you tried pushing him off again but no movement. You stopped for a moment, staring into his eyes- those dark brown eyes that you loved so much. He leaned down, just one move away from pressing his lips onto yours.

“Fuck me.” you whispered. He didn't hesitate. He pressed his lips onto yours, his hands sliding down your curves and around to the small of your back, pulling your body closer to his. You reached up and tangled your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck.

God you missed this but you knew this was a bad idea. There were nights where all you dreamed about was this. But no matter how much of a bad idea it was- you didn't wanna stop.

You both stripped down to nothing and he picked you up by the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. It took him no time to bottom out inside of you, both of you groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck I forgot how much you felt like heaven baby.” he groaned, bouncing you up and down on his cock while thrusting up into you.

“God I missed you so much Joel.” you moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“I missed you so much more baby girl.”

It was like you had stepped into a time machine and went back. The sweet praises he whispered, the way his massive hands roamed your body as his thrusts became sloppy. The way you moaned his name on repeat, the way you always had to be touching or kissing him while he put you in this euphoric state.

It had been so long for both of you, you both came before either one of you wanted it to be over. You stayed in his arms for a moment, trying to catch your breath and gather your thoughts over what just happened.

“I umm… Gotta get going.” you said as you dropped your legs from his waist and got redressed.

“Yeah me too. Got a meeting in the morning.”

Before you walked out of the room he grabbed your hand again.

“Are you free this weekend?” he asked. You let out a small sigh and shook your head.

“Joel I'll never stop loving you but it took me everything in my power to get over you. I'm sorry but it's best that we don't speak again unless we have to.”

“Baby-”

“I'm sorry.” with that you walked out of the room, leaning Joel alone.

— • —

Weeks had gone by since you last seen Joel and you've never felt better. That is until you got a stomach bug. Your head had been in the toilet for the last few days and the smell of food just made you even more nauseous.

You were laying on the cool tile floor of your bathroom, not having the energy to get up and go to your bedroom, when your eyes caught a glimpse of the unopened tampon box sticking out from under the sink.

3 minutes. 3 very long agonizing minutes. Once the timer on your phone went off you looked on the bathroom counter to see what your future would hold.

“Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me.”

beta'd: @clawdee @nerdieforpedro @iron-strangers @dancingtotuyo thank you all ily <3

divider: @saradika-graphics

[junglefurytrash]

" All the arrows that you've stolen, Split in half, now bum and broken, Like your heart that was so eager to be hid.. You can't keep them all caged, They will fight and run away! Mother, tell me so I say.. "

Made a little teaser image. ;)

Can you tell I'm excited to get to this story arc? I hope when I get to it you're all really gonna enjoy it.

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)

but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.

you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.

YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader

TFP

Relic accident. Enough said.

The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.

That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.

Thank goodness they had clothes on.

After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.

The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.

The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.

Oh joy…

Ratchet

The Cold.

Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.

It was the next day that the symptoms came up.

Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.

“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy

Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.

“Do it Raf!”--Buddy

“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet

Puppy Dog Eyes activated.

“Please?”--Raf

“… fine.”--Ratchet

Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.

His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.

Worse that he was older than the other as well.

He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.

Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.

Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.

Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.

Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.

Miko plays him classical music for once.

Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.

He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.

Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.

Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.

This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.

Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.

Optimus Prime

The Hiccups.

Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.

“And what is this one?”--Optimus

Optimus already starting to drink.

“Sparkling water.”--Buddy

Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.

“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy

Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.

“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus

“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy

Then they heard the sound.

Optimus was surprised to hear it.

Then he made it again.

He looks a bit disturbed.

He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.

Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.

He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.

This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!

Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.

They all go through the list until they reach the last one.

Scaring him.

They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.

But Buddy had an idea.

A very dumb idea.

Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.

He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.

They sat on top of it.

Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.

Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.

Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.

No more hiccups.

Problem solved.

He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.

When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.

Arcee

The Mosquito bites.

Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.

And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.

She wanted to eradicate every single one.

Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.

“Why!”-Arcee

SMACK!

“Won’t!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“These!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Things!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Die!”--Arcee

SMACK!

SMACK!

Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.

“Felt that.”--Buddy

“Yep.”--Jack

The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.

With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.

The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.

Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.

Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.

When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.

Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.

Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.

She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.

Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.

When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.

She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.

Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.

Bumblebee

The Motion sickness.

Oh, the Irony.

Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!

He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!

Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.

He feels awful.

Sweaty

Clammy hands

And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.

Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.

Buddy looks at Bee.

“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Smokescreen

Bumblebee groaning.

“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy

Windows immediately roll down.

Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.

At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.

But that wasn’t the case.

Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.

Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.

It was just him.

Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.

He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.

When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.

He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.

His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.

Bulkhead

Throwing Up.

All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.

He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.

“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko

“Me neither!”--Bulkhead

“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”

“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko

Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy

“What?”--Bulkhead

“What?”--Buddy

The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.

He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.

Everything was good.

Until he got back to base.

He suddenly became pale and sweaty.

The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.

Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.

The mushy stuff did stink a lot.

He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.

Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.

Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.

No matter how good it tasted before.

He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.

The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.

He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.

When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.

He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.

Has so much more respect for them.

Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.

[artiststarme]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Aha, the writer’s block is gone! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had wanted to leave since he stepped foot into the god-forsaken town. As soon as he’d passed the town’s border in the backseat of the social worker’s sedan, he knew he didn’t belong there. Hawkins was everything he despised about society; white picket fences for the rich, small town boys who thought they were better than everyone else, and snobby adults that turned their nose up if he so much as looked at them.

So yes, he’d been imagining a way out since he got in. He’d imagined Corroded Coffin making it big and getting to leave Hawkins together, best friends living the best life on stage while sharing their music with the masses. They wouldn’t be the outcasts that people treated like shit beneath their boots anymore, they would be something important. Unfortunately, that dream was squashed by his experiences over Spring Break. His old friends wouldn’t so much as glance at him much less leave town to hit the road with him.

Gone were the friends that would listen to him narrate a campaign for hours on end. Gone were the the friends that would drop everything to practice one of Eddie’s spur of the moment song ideas. After Spring Break of his third senior year, Eddie was alone.

He managed to avoid criminal charges by the skin of his teeth with a bogus alibi fabricated by the surprisingly-still-alive-Chief Hopper. He was finally able to graduate from high school and get a full time job to raise some money. But everything else was ruined. The friends he’d had since sophomore year were gone, the trailer he’d called his home was savaged, and his body was marred with gruesome scars that still wrought pain on the worst days.

On the bad days when the pain kept him in bed, he’d fantasize about leaving Hawkins. New, more achievable dreams centered around moving someplace new with Wayne. They’d pack everything up in the van and truck and just take off. They’d leave the tragic Midwest behind and head somewhere bigger like LA or NYC to take the world at storm, Munsons against the world as it had always been. Unfortunately though, they just didn’t have the funds to do that. Wayne couldn’t leave the plant when he had no savings to his name. And Eddie didn’t have anywhere near enough saved from working at Thatcher Tire to support them both.

He still had nothing going for him in Hawkins though. The harsh glares and pointed insults had only worsened since Chrissy’s death. He had to leave. But, he’d always been a coward at heart and he wasn’t brave enough to leave on his own. He would be trapped in the town that hated him until he died or something happened to force him out.

The one thing he had still was his family. It had lost several members but it had gained even more. The Party had managed to creep passed his defenses to find a place in his broken heart. Steve and Robin in particular grew close to him, assigning themselves best friends of Eddie Munson 1 and 2, respectively. They would hang out around Wayne’s new trailer, bother him at work, and he’d bother them at theirs.

It was on one of these impromptu hang-out sessions that a spark of hope developed in his chest. He’d been mourning his cowardice and inability to leave in silence until Steve started complaining about feeling trapped in his empty home. It was then that Eddie saw an opportunity.

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds stupid, how can I feel trapped in a big house? But there’s just nothing there! And it’s, it’s suffocating, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stay there.”

Steve murmured his words against the end of a cigarette, his body leaning against the side of the car that Eddie was pretending to work on. But how was he supposed to focus on changing a timing belt when the object of his affections was expressing a will to leave?

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Eddie nearly fell over as he rushed to reassure him. “Hell, I’ve felt suffocated since I got here.”

Steve hummed softly and took a puff of his cigarette.

Eddie smirked sardonically and chuckled to himself. “Maybe we should leave together. You could stop being a ghost in your parents house and I could stop being the murderer that killed his classmates. We could get a place together and decorate it half jock, half metal. That’d be a sight.”

Steve looked over at him with squinted eyes. “Really? You’d want to leave with me?”

“Why not? You’re one of my best friends, Stevie. I’d love to leave with you.”

The suspicion melted from Steve’s expression and a genuine smile took its place. He dropped the cigarette to the gravel ground, pulled the tool from Eddie’s hand and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Let’s do it! You and me. And Robin, I don’t think she’d let me move without her. We’re a package deal, if that’s okay.”

Eddie laughed and it’s him, high in the moment despite it all being a joke. “Of course! You can bring your emotional support lesbian and I’ll bring my Sweetheart. Then we’ll take the world by storm.”

Steve held onto him for another few moments before pulling away. “Okay, when do you want to leave?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face. “Wha- seriously? You actually want to leave with me?”

“Um, yes? I feel like I made that pretty obvious.”

Eddie blinked. “Um, okay. How about the end of the summer. Then we’ll have enough time to find a place and raise some cash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll tell Robin. See you later, Eds!”

Eddie could only watch him skip to his car in shock. Steve continued to surprise the hell out of him. He’d shocked him in the Upside Down by being a genuinely good guy. Again when he’d fought the entire basketball team two weeks afterward to protect Eddie’s honor. And now with plans to rescue him from the stifling hatred of Hawkins.

When he pulls him into a gentle kiss as soon as they step into the apartment with Robin behind them griping about carrying all the bags, that’s a nice surprise too.

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

savior

words: 500

warnings: drinking/bar setting

“rafey.” you whine into the phone, hoping he can hear you over the pounding club music. the bass practically shook your entire body, from your stiletto heels all the way up to your dangly earrings. 

“what is it honey? i’m on my way.” rafe says, and you can hear his truck starting before you even ask him to come pick you up.

“some guy started grinding on stephie and then they went to hook up in the bathroom and i’m all alone… and i miss you.” rafe warned you that it wasn’t the best idea to go to the club with your friend, but he trusts you and wants you to have some independence, even if all it does is reinforce your need for him.

“i’m sorry, princess. i’ll be there in five minutes.” rafe wants to slap stephie at this moment, he doesn’t care that she’s a girl, she hurt you, and that’s all that matters to him.

“okay.” you sniffle. “some guy tried to talk to me but now i’m just sitting in a booth.”

rafe’s hand tightens in anger on the steering wheel. “just stay where you are baby.”

“are you almost here?”

rafe steps on the gas pedal, completely ignoring the speed limit. “yes, baby, i’m pulling up right now.”

“i’ll come out.” you start to stand up, but rafe stops you, “no.” he says quickly, before clearing his throat. “no, baby, i’ll come and get you.”

you don’t want rafe to worry about paying the cover charge, but you’re not one to argue with him, so you agree and keep your eyes on the door. you wait to hang up until you see rafe, scanning the crowd for you before making eye contact.

“baby.” rafe rushes over to you as you stand up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“thank you for coming.” you sniffle, hiding your face in his chest.

“i’ll always come for you.” rafe squeezes you sides. “now wheres that guy that tried to hit on you?”

in truth he was by the bar, but you shake your head. “he already left.” you know that rafe wouldn’t leave without punching the guy, and it was no fault that he tried to hit on you when you were alone, no boyfriend around.

rafe sighs, always able to tell when you’re lying, but not wanting to push you when you’re already upset, and wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you out towards his truck. you get in the passenger seat, rafe leaning over you to do up your seat belt. “i love you.” rafe says, stroking your cheek.

“i love you too, rafey. only you.” you lean up and kiss him, fisting your hand in his shirt to keep him closer.

“better only be me, princess.” rafe only half-jokes, closing your door gently and moving around to the driver side, but not before opening up the back seat and grabbing your fluffy blanket, draping it over you as you snuggle into the familiar seat.

the warm blanket and the slow driving has your eyes drifting closed. rafe looks over and sees you starting to drift off, purposely missing the turn down your street to let you sleep for longer. he slows carefully to a stop at a stop sign, leaning over to kiss your forehead. 

you stir slightly, but rafe shushes you. “it’s okay baby. go back to sleep.”