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#radio station: call and response
voltas-do-mar · 7 months
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Heyyyyy, say, what kind of persuasion we can do to get our favorite Lieutenant on stage? It's quite fun to see Harry singing,no? May I propose a duet one-day?
though we admire harry's singing / sangfroid keeps me at bay his professional stoicism always has the final say while i may try convincing / the lieutenant makes the choice though i'd be thrilled to serenade / show off my pilot's voice with all the cases filed / (perhaps our next day free?) we could try on either side for a song if we make plea
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hauntedwoman · 7 months
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my mom wants me to go to this hiring seminar at a local hosptial today but i genuinely have no desire to work in healthcare bc i fucking hate the healthcare system in this country and i dont want to have to deal with angry patients and their billing discrepancies and their insurance
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Roxette - The Look 1989
"The Look" is a song by pop duo Roxette; Sweden's second-best-selling music act after ABBA. It was released in early 1989 as the fourth single from their second studio album, Look Sharp! (1988). The album was an immediate commercial success in their home country, spending seven weeks at number one on the Swedish Albums Chart. "The Look" was written by Per Gessle as an exercise while learning how to operate the Ensoniq ESQ-1 synthesizer he had recently purchased, using a repeated A–G–D bass line as the song's core. The track's sixteenth-note rhythm was inspired by the work of ZZ Top. The original title was "He's Got the Look", with the lyrics using male pronouns. Gessle said this was done because he initially wanted Marie Fredriksson to sing the track. Both he and EMI Sweden had chosen to highlight Fredriksson as Roxette's lead vocalist. However, when recording the demo, Gessle realised the song "didn't fit her style that well, so I had a go and it sounded OK."
The singles from Look Sharp! at the time were only released in Sweden, Germany and France. However, an American exchange student from Minnesota named Dean Cushman returned from Sweden and gave his copy of the album to his local Top 40 radio station, KDWB-FM in Minneapolis. The station's program director Brian Phillips initially ignored Cushman's request to play a song from the album, leaving the CD unplayed in his office for several weeks. Phillips eventually listened to it after learning Cushman had come to the office requesting the return of his CD. Immediately impressed by the album's opening track, "The Look" was played by the station for the first time on US radio less than an hour later, and the response from listeners was overwhelmingly positive; the station immediately began receiving phone calls to replay the track.
KDWB began distributing the track to their sister radio operations, sending 500 copies to other stations throughout the United States. EMI America promptly signed the duo to a recording contract as a result of the airplay. The label had previously rejected Roxette as "unsuitable for the American market". The song had already entered the top fifty of the Billboard Hot 100 before official promotion began, peaking at number one on the chart eight weeks later. This made "The Look" the third number one single by a Swedish act on the Billboard Hot 100, following Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling" (poll #152) in 1974 and ABBA's "Dancing Queen" in 1976.
The track went on to top the charts in 25 countries. It spent three weeks atop the New Zealand Singles Chart, and six weeks at number one in Australia, where it was certified platinum for sales in excess of 70,000 copies. It also topped the charts throughout Scandinavia. The song spent five weeks at number one in West Germany, and an additional five weeks at number two. It was a massive success in Spain and Switzerland, spending eight weeks at number one in both countries. It reached number seven on the UK Singles Chart.
"The Look" received a total of 80,5% yes votes!
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heich0e · 11 months
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“Miya-san!”
Osamu’s head swivels towards the sound, and he spots you right away even though you weren't the one who called for him.
You’re a few metres down the road, sitting on a bench in front of a bustling restaurant, slumped over onto the shoulder of your junior who seems to be doing everything he can to keep your head tipped up against his arm. Kimura, the name Osamu had once been introduced to him as at one of the events your company held, has blushy cheeks when the older man approaches—he seems flushed due both to being flustered and a little tipsy, and the knot of his tie is loosened at the base of his throat.
“Kimura-kun,” Osamu greets him with a dip of his head as he approaches, his eyes scanning your seemingly sleeping face. “She asleep?”
“No,” you slur in reply, but your eyes stay closed. Osamu’s not certain it’s the truth, and even less certain you realize he’s the one who said it.
“I-it’s all my fault,” Kimura squeaks, looking increasingly like he might burst into tears. “They were trying to make me drink more, but Senpai kept switching out our glasses when the other section leads weren’t looking.”
“Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ she’d do,” Osamu replies with a fond but exasperated sigh.
“I’m sorry for contacting you so late,” Kimura says, flinching as you slump away from him unexpectedly in your drunken stupor. Osamu is quicker to react than the younger man, stepping in and catching you in the crook of his elbow before you can go toppling off the bench onto the sidewalk. He keeps you steady.
“Don’t apologize, I appreciate ya callin’ me to come get her—and thanks fer lookin’ after her,” he says down to the younger man, who seems relieved now not to be responsible for keeping you upright. “Tell her to bring ya by the shop for a meal sometime as payback. She owes ya one.”
Kimura’s eyes widen and he shakes his head like he couldn’t possibly accept, but before he can decline the offer Osamu turns his attention back to you. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pries you from your seat.
“Up ya go,” he mutters encouragingly as he eases you onto your feet.
Your eyes flutter slowly open, looking around blearily for a moment as you take in your surroundings.
“Samu?” you ask, his name slurred on your alcohol loosened tongue. You perk up noticeably in his arms once you realize just who’s holding you. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to take ya home, Cinderella,” he says with a light laugh as your fingers twist into the material of his sweatshirt against his chest. He looks to Kimura again, who’s also risen to his feet now. “We’ll be off, then.”
“Thank you, Miya-san!” Kimura bows deeply forward, a nearly perfect 45 degree angle at his waist.
He’s a sweet kid, Osamu can’t help but think, even if does follow you around like a puppy.
Osamu helps you down the sidewalk towards his waiting truck, then up into your seat on the passenger’s side. He makes quick work of buckling you into your seatbelt even as you squirm counterproductively, then he jogs swiftly around to his own side of the truck and climbs in behind the wheel.
Kimura waves from outside the restaurant as the truck pulls away.
“Seems like ya had fun tonight,” Osamu remarks as he drives in the direction of your home. You hadn't even wanted to attend this work gathering, but had been forced to by your director. Now look where it had gotten you.
You’re fiddling with the controls of the radio, stations crackling in and out as you switch rapidly through the channels. 
“Drank too much,” you complain, settling on a talk radio station (of all things) that seems to be midway through discussing prefectural bylaws.
“Don’t I know it,” Osamu quips in reply and you swat at him harmlessly over the centre console with a laugh.
You’re turned in your seat, your body facing in his direction, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the road. He can feel your gaze tracing over him, but doesn’t glance back.
“Hey,” you whisper, something conspiratorial in your tone. “Wanna know a secret?”
“Sure thing,” he plays along with your antics, fighting back a grin.
It’s silent for a moment—only the voices on the radio discussing trash collection to be heard. Osamu pulls up to a red light, and finally looks over to meet your gaze.
Your eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused, but they’re bright with affection.
“I have a crush on you,” you tell him with a giggle.
Osamu’s chest pangs.
The light turns green.
“Well,” he remarks, returning his gaze to the road ahead and proceeding through the intersection. “That’s good.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump dejectedly. 
“I’m being rejected,” your next words are positively morose. You turn away from him and lean your body over to the side. He hears a loud thump as your forehead head hits window on your right.
“Hey!” Osamu chides you in concern, reaching out and grabbing the collar of your blouse to tug you up a little straighter. It’s not the most elegant motion by any means, but he’s fairly limited with his other hand on the wheel and his eyes still on the road.
“Owww,” you complain, rubbing your forehead weakly. You bat the hand he has clutching the collar of your shirt away. “You’re so mean.”
“How’m I mean?” Osamu guffaws beside you.
“I just confessed my love for you, and all you had to say is ‘that’s good’!” You turn your body in your seat to waggle an unsteady but judgemental finger at him. “A woman’s heart is a precious, fragile thing, y’know!”
“There’s nothin’ fragile about ya,” Osamu mutters under his breath, thinking about how much you had to drink that night as a prime example of this fact. “Yer tough as a brick wall.”
“Mean!” you jeer at him again, your mouth agape in the wake of his words.
Osamu flicks his turn indicator on before he pulls his truck over to the curb, putting it into park. You’ve stopped outside a convenience store, and when he turns to look at you, the fluorescents from inside the shop bathe you in a backlit halo where you sit in the passenger seat.
He grabs your hand. The one you still have lifted to point at him.
“D’ya see this?” he asks, holding your hand up in front of your face. The ring on your fourth finger catches in the glow of the convenience store lights.
Your eyes widen.
Osamu holds up his left hand where there’s a ring that matches your own.
“I said it’s good y’got a crush on me ‘cause we’re married, dummy.”
Your lips form a surprised little ‘o’ as your eyes flicker rapidly from the band on your finger to his own and back again. 
After a moment you grin, your eyes squeezing shut with how high your cheeks lift. “What a relief!”
Osamu is quick inside the store, just popping in to buy a vitamin drink for you and a pack of cigarettes for himself. He doesn’t smoke as much these days—you’d nag him incessantly if he did—but every so often he gets a craving, and tonight is one of those instances. 
The two of you sit side by side on the curb in front of the shop, the truck parked a little ways down the road. 
Osamu takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing in contentment with wispy plumes of smoke slipping from his lips. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye. 
“Ya feelin’ better?” he asks.
You’ve got the little bottle of vitamin drink cradled in your hands, working your way through it slowly. You hate the taste of them, he knows that, but you’d regret it more tomorrow morning if you didn’t force it down tonight. You nod a bit, and seem to have sobered up in the time since Osamu arrived to take you home.
“This reminds me of when we first started datin’” Osamu laughs to himself. And he means it. Everything about it. Being out so late. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue. The way you keep creeping a little bit closer to him unconsciously, as though his space isn’t already yours to freely take. “I can’t believe ya forgot we’re married.”
You groan in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
He bites back a grin, trying not to revel too much in your misery.
“And I’m sorry I made you come pick me up,” you mumble after a moment, taking another sip from the little bottle in your hand and wincing against the bitterness. “I planned to just take a cab.”
“It was that little junior of yours who contacted me,” Osamu laughs, lifting the cigarette to his lips and holding it there while he rifles in his pocket for his phone. He holds the device out so you can see the conversation where your subordinate had commandeered your phone, remorsefully messaging Osamu asking him to come and collect you from the bar. He’d even used a funny little sticker of a bunny with tears in his eyes bowing apologetically—it bears a striking resemblance to Kimura himself. 
“That kid,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly as you rub your temple. Your eyes suddenly widen and your face snaps towards your husband. “Wh—“
“Tsumu’s there watchin’ ‘em,” Osamu laughs, reaching up and plopping a hand down atop your head. “Not that there’s much to watch since they’re in bed. He was still at the house when Kimura-kun messaged me.”
You lean into Osamu's touch as you think of your twins at home, tucked up in the little bed they share, and it makes your heart ache a little bit. You wonder if you’ll be able to creep in and give them a kiss goodnight when you get home without waking them. 
You go terribly quiet for a moment, and Osamu finishes his cigarette. He stamps it out on the curb beside him and then slips the extinguished stub back into the pack to throw into an ashtray later.
“Samu?” you call to him, your voice quiet.
He glances over at you, and sees the way you’ve wrapped your arms around your knees. The anxious posture worries him.
“I didn’t forget you, I promise,” you whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I think this is all too good to be true.”
Your husband watches as you admire the ring on your finger that reflects the streetlight overhead.
Osamu smiles to himself, scooting closer to you on the curb.
“I know,” he reassures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. Your head naturally falls to his shoulder. Familiar and instinctive. “I was just teasin’ ya.”
You smell like alcohol. He’s sure he smells like cigarettes. You're in rumpled business casual, and he's dressed in the sweats he planned to wear to sleep. He reaches over and takes your left hand in his own—your wedding rings overlapping. And for a moment, in spite of all the ways the two of you have changed over the years and all the ways that life is different now, everything is exactly how it’s always been.
He tilts his face and presses a lingering kiss to your temple.
‘I’ve got a crush on ya too, by the way.”
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lovelybucky1 · 1 year
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Nice Guys Finish Last
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Kinktober Day 9- Hair Pulling
warnings: hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), name calling, face riding, dom/sub dynamics, fwb(?), crime, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors DNI
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Picking up Anakin from the police station yet again is not what you thought you’d be doing with your night. Your he is always getting into some kind of trouble and it always somehow becomes your responsibility to save his sorry ass.
It’s the third time this month you’ve had to get him and to say you’re pissed is an understatement. You honestly couldn’t believe the officer when he told you Anakin was taken in for vandalism. He was caught tagging a building with some buddies. How fucking juvenile.
You signed the proper paperwork and Anakin was following you out of the station. Somehow, with his pretty boy charm, he always gets off with a warning. Some day he won’t be so lucky, and you may not feel bad for him when that day comes.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Anakin!” you yell once you’re in the car.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin huffs.
“Don’t give me that. I’m the one bailing you out in the middle of the night for fucking around with a can of spray paint.”
Anakin glares at you from the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.
“Why am I always the one you call? You know I won’t let you rot at the station and all your other friends are getting arrested with you?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know that’s exactly why you’re his call.
“You’re my best friend. That’s why you’re the one I call,” he says. “Sorry if I’m such an inconvenience for you.”
“Do not guilt trip me, Anakin. You are so fucking irresponsible and yeah, you are inconveniencing me because it’s Saturday night and I had plans that I left to come save you.”
Anakin raises his eyebrows at the mention of plans. “What plans?”
“Is that fucking important right now?”
Anakin wiggles his snakebites with his tongue as he looks at you. “Was it a date?”
You sigh heavily. “Yes it was.”
“First date?”
“Third.”
Anakin makes a huh noise faintly and you want to press him about it, but figure it’s better just to get him home and out of your sight before you punch him.
You start the car and pull out of the police station parking lot. You drive in silence for a few minutes, not having put on the radio in your rage.
“You weren’t drunk, were you?” you ask.
“Jesus,” he says, offended. “No, I wasn’t drunk.”
“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question. Do you have any idea how much stupid shit you do when you’re drunk?”
Anakin kicks his foot up on the dashboard and you quickly slap his thigh so he doesn’t scuff up your car with his obnoxious boot.
Before long, you turn into the parking lot of Anakin’s apartment complex and park in your usual spot. He gets out of the car, then you follow.
“You’re coming in?”
“I missed dessert. It’s the least you could do.”
Anakin attempts to smile at you, but that venture is short lived when he sees your annoyed expression illuminated by the street lights.
The two of you walk into the building and up the two flights of stairs to get to his door. He lets you in and you immediately walk over to the freezer, searching for something sweet.
“Ben’s out tonight,” he says.
“So was I, but you didn’t ask Ben to pick you up,” you respond, head still in the freezer.
“Come on, are we really gonna do this all night? Ben and I aren’t close like we are.”
You pick up a pint of half-eaten ice cream and close the freezer before opening all of the drawers until you find the spoons. You take the lid off the container and lean against the counter, glaring at Anakin where he sits at the counter.
“How was your date,” he asks.
“It was good until you dragged me away from it.”
Anakin looks down at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Where’d he take you?”
You fill your mouth with a spoonful of ice-cream. “The restaurant on 15th,” you respond.
Anakin furrows his brows. “That place is a dump. Why would he take you there?”
“It’s not about the food, it’s about the company.”
Anakin scoffs. “It sounds like your company is a cheap asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you.”
You stare silently at Anakin while thoughts race through your mind. The first time you got Anakin from the police station was right after your first date, and you were late your second date because you had to drive Anakin home. In an instant, anger seethes inside of you. You drop the ice cream and spoon on the countertop and storm over to the back of Anakin’s chair.
He turns his head to track your movements. When you reach him, you twist your fingers in his dark hair and pull. His head snaps back and he whines in protest.
“You son of a bitch,” you hiss.
“What?” he asks.
“You’ve been purposely ruining my dates by getting arrested.” He whimpers at the painful tug on his roots. “You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that I’ve had to get you when I was on dates.”
“Let me go and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason.
“No, Anakin. You’re perfectly capable of talking to me like this.”
Anakin sighs. “He’s not good enough for you.”
“You’ve never even met him,” you scoff.
“I don’t need to! I know he isn’t.”
Anakin tries to look at you upside down. He’s playing with his lip rings again, a nervous habit of his.
“And how the fuck would you know that?” you ask.
“Because he’s not me.”
You freeze, and for a moment your grip on his hair loosens. “What?”
Anakin fights against your hold and manages to break free. He stands up from the stool and faces you, the tension in his brows obvious.
“I don’t want you to date that guy. Fuck, I don’t want you to date any guy. Everyone you’ve ever dated has been an asshole and you don’t deserve that.”
“So, what, you’re not an asshole?”
“I am, but I would treat you right.”
“By getting arrested every night for stupid shit?”
Anakin groans. “Can we please stop talking about it?”
You narrow your eyes at him as realization dawns on you. “Were you trying to cockblock me?” Anakin doesn’t respond. All he does is look down at his yellow laced boots to hide the flush on his cheeks. “It was my third date tonight and you knew that. You didn’t want me to go home with him.”
“Christ, no, it’s not like that-”
“Then what is it, Anakin?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”
“He’s nice.”
Anakin chuckles. “You don’t want nice.”
“You have no idea what I want.”
Anakin steps forward to crowd you against the counter. You’re not intimidated by him, despite the height difference. Anakin may be bigger and stronger in pretty much every physical way, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. And you know his weak spot.
“Tell me, then. What do you want?”
“A nice guy with a good job, life goals, and no criminal record.”
Anakin places his hands on the counter on either side of your body. “But does nice make you cum?”
You gasp. “Anakin!”
“I’m serious. Does your nice, regular guy do it for you?” He looks intently at your face, searching for an answer. “Or is it only guys with tattoos and a criminal record that gets your blood pumping like this?”
“We’re friends, Anakin,” you say instead of answering his question.
“That doesn’t have to change.” You sigh and look over your shoulder to collect yourself for a moment, needing a break from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “You’re angry at me and I’m sure you’re pent up because you were planning on getting fucked tonight. Kill two birds with one stone and fuck me.”
“I can’t believe you,” you say, looking back at him.
He smirks, biting his lip. “It’ll be good, I promise. You can hit me, bite me, scratch me, whatever. Use me however you want and you’ll see why nice isn’t better.”
“Fine,” you bite.
“Where do you want me?” he asks.
You look around the open floor plan apartment. “The couch.”
“Not the bed?”
“Nice guys fuck on beds. I thought you were different.”
Anakin backs off of you and walks over to the couch, sitting lazily as we waits for you to come over. His arms are splayed over the back and his legs are spread obnoxiously. You sit on the couch next to him and look at him expectantly.
“You’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask.
Anakin shrugs. “I don’t kiss sluts.”
You raise your eyebrows at that. “I’m a slut?”
“Oh yeah,” he leans closer to you, grasping gently at your jaw. “That’s why we’re a good match. You’re a slut who needs to be fucked hard and dirty, and I’m a bad guy who loves sluts like you.”
Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. You’re watching his lips, noticing how his tongue swipes across them. Anakin trails his hand up your thigh and inches it closer to your clothed pussy.
“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that after the shit you pulled.”
Anakin backs off, his hands now kept to himself. “I’m all yours.”
You make a split second decision to crawl into his lap, and now that you’re seated on top of his thighs, you’re unsure what to do. His body is firm with muscle underneath you. You know he goes to the gym but you’ve never experienced his strength for yourself.
You push up the hem of his t-shirt and he takes the hint, raising his arms so you can pull it off. You’re met with the sight of his abs and chest covered with tattoos and the barbells that go through his nipples. You realize you’ve never seem him like this before and you curse yourself for not getting a glimpse sooner.
“You like what you see?” he asks cockily.
“Shut up, Anakin.”
You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails down it to leave red marks on the pale skin. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of fucking you, but you are incredibly horny and need to get off.
“Lay down.”
He raises his eyebrows at you. “Talking to me like I’m a dog?”
“Yeah, I am. So be a good boy and lay down.”
You stand up from his lap and take off your bottoms while he changes positions. His legs are outstretched on the couch and his head is flat against the cushion.
You kneel on the couch, knees on either side of his head and you watch as he stares at your pussy.
“Like what you see?” you ask.
“Fuck yeah, I do. Been thinking ‘bout tasting this cunt since we met.”
Anakin reaches up to grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him. His nose hits your mound first, then you sit your pussy onto his mouth and chin.
He looks up at you from between your thighs as his tongue begins to explore between your folds. You wiggle your hips on top of him to get more friction, and to humiliate him a little by using him.
His nose bumps your clit as he licks thick stripes over your pussy. Anakin is attempting to taste every inch of you, and fuck, it feels good.
You reach down and grab his spiked hair with both hands like their reigns. You adjust yourself on his face so he’s hitting all the spots you want him to.
“Fuck, put your tongue inside me,” you order.
He does, and when you feel the hot muscle slide into you, you tug firmly on his hair. He groans into your pussy and fucks you with enthusiasm.
You pull on his hair again and his eyelids flutter. He clearly likes getting his hair pulled, and you enjoy causing him a little bit of pain.
“You got arrested all those times because you wanted me to sit on your fucking face? Why didn’t you just ask?”
You didn’t lift up so he could answer. It was a rhetorical question and if he stopped sucking on your clit, you would kill him.
“You were right, a nice guy wouldn’t let me drown him in my pussy.”
You grind down on his face and tug his head up to meet your body as you feel yourself getting closer.
“Don’t fucking stop, Anakin. I’m gonna cum,” you say.
His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows have a deep crease between them as he concentrates on pleasing you despite the ache that’s surely in his jaw.
“Fuck,” you gasp as you reach your peak.
Your thighs tighten around his head and he sucks firmly at your pussy to ride you through it. Your hips buck up, searching for more friction until your high passes.
You remain on him, but lean your hands back on his thighs to catch your breath. Your chest his heaving and your legs are shaking a bit.
Anakin pushes up on your thighs, signaling you to get off of him. You slide from his face down to his hips and straddle him there.
His hair is a mess, his face is wet, and his lips are swollen and red. “How was that?” he asks, voice rough.
“Nice,” you respond with a smirk.
Anakin glares at you. He sits up and grabs your hips tightly to hold you still as he grinds his hips on your ass. He spanks you with his right hand, making you gasp in surprise.
“I thought I got to do whatever I wanted?”
“You got your chance,” Anakin grumbles. “Now I’m not gonna be so nice.”
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fraugwinska · 4 months
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I tried my hands on an Human!Alastor fic ;> It's still very different to write for Human Al, but I hope y'all like it ;> Special thanks to @hurthermore for beta-reading and encouraging me <3 This one's for you, love! !! NSFW - Heavy Smut Ahead, Minors DNI - 6k words !!
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„You need technical assistance, sir?“
Alastor looked up from the papers on his desk, adjusting his glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. He didn't expect her to come in this late, or at all, not while he was still at the station. The curious little sound engineer that had started half a year ago was standing at his office entrance, hands in the pockets of her outrageous trousers. She was tiny, her small figure barely filled the door frame, even with her bulky tool bag that hung from her shoulders. Alastor leaned back in his seat, folding his hands, focusing his tired gaze on her defensive expression.
She was a novelty, that one. Not the first woman working at the station of course, but the first to assert herself in the male-dominated field of technical engineering. Her male colleagues saw the spunky, brass girl as a joke, either ignoring her or trying (very amateurishly) to bed her – both which didn't faze her at all meeting both scenarios with the same contemptuous indifference. The women – secretaries, errand girls and concierges – were much more organized and refined in their bullying. Shortly after her arrival rumors had already spread, one more abstruse than the other, and they had collectively decided to pretend the engineer didn't exist in their periphery. More than once he witnessed her talking to his own secretary Ruth, just to be left standing while Ruth got up and walked out with the other girls to lunch in the middle of her sentence.
The little engineer took it all in stride, though. Never complained, never became outright disrespect- or revengeful. Gradually, her expressions steeled, her answers shortened and her work hours shifted to evenings or nights, with less people to run into.
Alastor had been fascinated by her the moment they first met. He had just started his usual 'Saturday Golden Hour', his favorite and most popular segment to host, broadcasting the newest releases of jazz and swing in the evening, just before sundown. Not even ten minutes in, right after he started playing Bing Crosby's new song 'Dancing in the Dark', listeners started calling the station by the handful, complaining about horrific feedback's and sudden blackouts. While Alastor watched Rufus Ellis, the head of the tech team, frantically run around, yelling at his workers, the little engineer had wordlessly grabbed a few tools and vanished. Five minutes later, his broadcast went back to working perfectly, sound crisp and quality flawless once again. She had returned, put back the tools from where she had taken them, and when Ellis – flabbergasted – asked her what she had done, she had calmly explained that she went up on the roof to check the transmitters connected to the radio tower and fixed a broken generator that had malfunctioned due to some doves nesting in it.
No one thanked or even acknowledged her, they just shrugged and went back to business as usual. But Alastor didn't forget, and from this day he was determined to find out more about this extraordinary girl. She reminded him of his own struggle as the exception to the rule – it was a well-kept secret throughout the station exactly what Alastor looked like and who he was. That was the only reason he was able to do what he felt was born to, a cruel, unfair compromise. So, he felt an unusual sympathy for her, in addition to just his natural curiosity for oddities. However, he didn't expect her to be so elusive.
Whenever he tried to engage her in a conversation, she gave short, finite responses, avoided his eyes and hurried to get away from him, sometimes even bordering on rudeness in her haste to flee from him. Alastor was, to be frank, perplexed - his charm usually drew in the ladies unwantedly. That it had failed him now, with the little engineer, when he welcomed it for a change? Peculiar. To a degree, it angered him, but it also awakened his hunting instinct, just not the one he was used to.
“I'm afraid so, dear.”, Alastor smiled, standing up. He rounded his desk, hands behind his back, and went to her side, looking down a t her. Granted, he was a tall man, but next to her, he felt almost gigantic, which satisfied him in a strange way. “I noticed my microphone was acting up today, and would like you to take a look at it, if you don't mind. Before it decides to give up on me mid-broadcast.”
“That's my job, sir.”, she just answered, eyes intensely staring at the carpet. Alastor's eyebrow twitched in slight aggravation. But he lead her to his booth, unlocking it to let her in. She went straight to his seat, dropping her tool bag next to it and started to pull his microphone to her to inspect it. He quietly closed the door, locking it discreetly – just as a precaution so she couldn't flee him again so easily, now that he finally had her in his vicinity.
Alastor walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to watch her carefully taking the device apart. She startled when she saw him out of the corner of her eyes. “It may take a while, sir.”, she mumbled, an obvious attempt to make him leave. Alastor laughed. “I've got nowhere to be, dear, take your time.”, he said with a hint of mischievous delight. He heard her scoff, turning back to her work. There was a prolonged silence, her fiercely ignoring Alastor's quiet, content humming while her fingers picked apart and put together parts and cables. He used the time to analyze her appearance – her hair was smooth but more unkempt than for a girl her age – how old must she be? Twenty, maybe Twenty-one? Vanity surely wasn't a flaw of hers, she didn't wear much make-up and Alastor saw various faint, light scars on her arms and hands, little bookmarks of mishaps and failures of her chosen career – the sight of them sent a sick shiver down his spine. Given his... hobbies, he found twisted appeal in scarred skin, finding beauty in those white, shimmering lines where blood once dripped from. He roamed her supple, curved body – unlike the recent fad of skinny, androgynous frames she was built womanly, round and fleshy... how beautiful could he paint her with white streaks on this vast canvas, add some masterpieces of his own to the collection?
“Alright.”, she pulled him out of his thoughts, mounting the microphone back on it's flexible stand. “A few cables were starting to corrode, I've replaced them, it should work fine now.” Alastor grinned down at her, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. The first real contact. “What an efficient engineer you are, dear. Always coming to my rescue, I have yet to show my gratitude.” She didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge that he said something to her, just packing up the various things she had spread out for the repair. Now that was just rude.
“Hello? Is this thing on?”, Alastor strained himself to sound lighthearted as he knocked two times on her head, feeling the shivers of impatience rising. The engineer closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, shifting in his chair with furrowed brows. “I'm getting paid to do my job. I don't need anything else.” She attempted to stand up, but his hand, still resting on her shoulder, holds her in place. “If that's all, sir?”
“Now now, not to hasty. I'd think it's unlike you to leave work halfway done. Normally you are quite thorough, aren't you?” Alastor cooed, tilting his head at her. “My work is done.” she said, her voice now intense and a faint tint of red on her cheek and neck. My, there's the little ferocity he thought she'd lost at the job. “Why we haven't tested the thing, dear – How can I be sure it works properly?”
“Because I know what I'm doing.” She looked outright offended at the implied possibility that she failed the task he asked of her. He had to chuckle, such a childish reaction to something so innocent. Maybe it was because implications like these grated her thick skin, but Alastor had no problem with being the straw that breaks that camel's back. He was skilled in putting people back in their place, and with her, it would be much more entertaining and much less fatal than with his other... acquaintances. He decided to tickle this sleeping dragon just a bit more, with a funny little idea in mind.
“No one is infallible – especially when they are so young. No fault in that, dear, but I'd like to be sure.” Alastor swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her up to stand. Putting up no resistance, most likely because of sheer perplexity, he twirled her almost like in a dance, side-stepping to his chair, and sat down, pulling her onto his lap, locking her there by an arm wrapped around her waist. The look on her face was worth it's weight in gold – eyes wide, mouth agape in stunned shock, and tips of the ears reddened. Her hands grappled the armrests so forcefully her knuckles were as white as the scars on her arms, and within seconds of regaining her active conscience she squirmed against his body. “What... that's so... sir, please let me g...” “There you go, dear.”, Alastor ignored her babbling, using his free hand to put the headphones on her. Her pulse under her thin, clear skin drummed faster against him, it's heat felt like it could boil his own blood.
He grabbed his own microphone, swinging it up between their faces and leaned forward, chin resting on her shoulder and the grille brushing his lower lip. She stared, dumbstruck, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. He chuckled against her cheek, leaning his mouth to the mic as he pushed the switch on the control panel up, and his rich, sultry baritone echoed in her headphones.
"How about it, darling, do you hear me?"
She breathed deeply, gulping, and her heart sped up even more. Alastor smiled devilishly against her soft skin, delighted and in awe by how far he got her worked up as she just nodded sharply.
"No soundrops, feedback or small interferences?", he hummed, his voice dripping sweet honey. She took a moment to answer. "N-no... everything seems alright."
"Lovely." He almost whispered, but she heard it crystal clear through the headphones. He let a low sigh and took off his glasses with one hand, slowly, teasingly, his nose tracing over her neck, as if it was coincidental, as if he'd never ever do such a thing intentionally, putting the accessory on the table next to him, eyes locking on the hazel ones of hers mirrored in them. "Although I wonder..." He pushed the mic nearer to her mouth, seeing a tremble running over her body. "... if the higher pitches might be a problem... You wouldn't mind help with that, would you?"
She stiffened up, barely daring to breathe, her skin erupting into goose flesh underneath his lips, he felt the impulse to press them against her, lick the salt and nervousness from it.
"Sir, I-I can't.."
He chuckled at her strained, whispering voice. How beautiful was her distress, so rich, so fragrant, almost strong enough for him to savor its essence without even needing to touch her.
"Then, may I assist you?", Alastor felt himself giddy with impish delight, his hands slowly trailing upwards from her waist to her bust, cupping her gently through the thin fabric. This made her wriggle again, a small, high pitched squeak leaving her lips that his microphone just amplified in glorious reverberations. Alastor chuckled darkly as she froze, neck burning red in deep embarrassment from the sound she heard from the headphones.
"Now we're talking. A wonderful first try. But let's see what else we can get out of you, darling. After all, we want to be thorough."
His hands palmed and kneaded the supple flesh through the cotton, feeling her squirm and tremble and the warmth of her bosom, imagining the blood rushing through her heart. How exquisite was she?
He could hear a small whimper as her head slightly lowered. Was she closing her eyes? He imagined it so. Imagined she'd shut her pretty eyes closed, furrow her brows in conflict as her legs pressed against each other in fruitless desperation. Her hands tightened on the armrest.
"You are so very quiet, dear. Why don't you relax and turn the volume up for me?"
With one of his hands he quickly loosened the two buttons that kept her blouse close and tugged at the collar to widen the neck hole, then slid under her brassier and gripped one breast with a tight squeeze. Alastor caught his breath as he realized just how sensitive and sweet the freckled skin under his fingertips was. Soft. Warm. So fragile... He would never have imagined this was hiding under her daily uniform, her sagging shoulders and loose jacket hiding those lovely features. Alastor felt a delightful spark crackle in his head and shoot up the nerves of his spine. His hunting instinct pulsed under the mask. But... with a slight delay, Alastor recognized it as a different type of hunger... one of the carnal and more depraved kind. Another novelty for him.
Alastor suddenly wondered what her lips tasted like, how soft and warm would they feel on his, her teeth biting, her tongue teasing him. How many ways could he break her - and could he do it quickly, with his bare hands, with his words alone maybe, or with his undisciplined arousal pushing against her rear-end through the fabric of his trousers? How often did she think of him? How did she think of him? Did she fear him, or dislike him even? He could hear her breathing hasten as he was trying to compose himself.
There was the devil's urge to just let himself go. To shove the equipment aside and tear those outrageously inadequate clothes away from her flesh, run his hands over the skin he didn't get to see yet, trace and map those scars of hers until they fade underneath his fingers. Mark her more thoroughly than any machine mishap ever could. Make her cry, moan, beg and whine under him until there was nothing left in her and this novel hunger was satisfied.
A wonderfully loud moan escaped her, a sweet, silky, vibrato sound of passion, that went right from Alastor's chest into his pelvis. She opened her eyes wide, pressing her hand firmly over her mouth, mortified at her own pleasure.
Oh, Alastor thought to himself, smiling mischievously as the shock of lustful rapture coursed through him, how easy it was for him to undo her. So unexplored, so fresh... "Do you wish to stop, darling?", he asked with a teasing pinch of her hardened nipple, which made her cry out and her other hand fly up and cover her mouth, too. She shook her head, her cheeks flushed and hot, eyes hazed with confused pleasure. He rubbed and teased the nipple gently in his palm, holding her close, making her struggle in defiant silence. The only sound was his gentle, patient humming.
But oh, she was breaking, crumbling like a stale beignet, and the noises his hand bullied out of her turned from hushed whimpers to barely muffled groans and cries for him, long and wanting 'Sir's and 'Oh's. She was melting under his palm. He grinned wickedly, his lower body hard and wanting against her as he put the microphone to his own lips again and spoke into it.
"Say it with your words, dear, should I stop? Or is it that you can't hear me?"
"Y-yes! I mean... No sir... d-don't... stop." There was a suppressed crack in her voice, and Alastor sighed with lust at her gasping affirmation, grinding against her plushy backside. He has found it amusing to push her limits, break through her thick skin and riddle her, like an ice pick cracking open a glacier. And now it would shatter her so gorgeously. "It's Alastor, darling." He whispered into the microphone with a dragging, sultry voice, his hand retreating from her breast, only to snake it's way to the hem of her pants. Her legs twitched, pushing together to futilely protect her modesty, but her body eagerly arched in a way that gave such easy way for his fingers to slip under the garments, feel and stroke the short, coarse hair, following it's trail, only to meet soft, silken and slippery wetness. A startled gasp escaped her and the only reason she didn't leap up was because Alastor kept his firm grip on her waist, pulling her tight against his throbbing erection. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, exposing her delicate throat as she whimpered, hands flying from her mouth to the armrests again, gripping so hard her fingernails dug into the hard wooden surface.
He tried to restrain himself but couldn't, he testily bit into the thin, soft flesh of her neck as his fingers found their way into her entrance and dipped deep in, coating his palm in generous wetness and crooking, exploring carefully, but with a patience even he was surprised at, eyes fixated on the taut fabric as he thrust into her in tandem with the waves her body undulated at the new sensation, her sweet taste on his tongue.
"S-Sir, please...", she groaned against his hand that still remained pressed over her lips, as if it could suppress the bliss Alastor wrought her into. He withdrew his hand for a moment, fingers wet, glistening and slick, as she was breathless, but she couldn't hide how her hips were chasing his retreating touch. He leaned into the microphone, barely lifting his mouth from her neck.
"Say my name, and I shall listen, little engineer."
She hesitated for just a heartbeat, before opening her eyes, hazily staring at the ceiling as Alastor patiently waited, his fingers drawing idle circles around the sweet pearl on her outer folds. She pressed her lips together for a second, seemingly mentally preparing herself, and then opened her mouth, to give in, to submit to him.
"...A-Alastor, please..."
"I like the sound of my name from your lips, darling." He almost purred in return and resumed his movements with added vigor and focus. He put down his head on her shoulder, nuzzling into the juncture of her throat, watching her reaction and every detail of how his hand worked her over with the rhythmic hump of his hips, forcing him to breathe harshly as he was starting to be deprived of blood. He had barely noticed it, how incredibly erotic and sinful this whole thing felt not just for her, but for him, too. Partly of course, because of the chase, the coaxing, the hunt to have her call and writhe for only him, not for any of these imbeciles that tried to get their pick with her, his ears pricked and eager to savor her wanton sounds... A surprising need to be connected, closer to her than anyone ever could be in her whole life, and it made him even giddy to know no man had touched her like he was doing now, taking her purity with ease and glee.
But there was another part, something he thought slumbered too deep within him to be ever awoken, a roaring fire in his guts as the alluring, delicious scent of her arousal assaulted him like a siren's song, lulling, cajoling him with sensual desires to drown in them, to abandon all else and indulge, to completely give in and surrender. It wasn't tactical, calculating or strategic, but wild and primal and primitive, and not at all as painful or awkward to him as he had always thought it'd be.
What a revelation a woman's body could be.
He almost missed her coming into his eagerly working hand - a sudden, full-body twitch that went through her spine, a whine in her voice that ended in a choked sound as her orgasm claimed her and washed her away in the torrent of rapture - eyes going wide as the air escaped her in a desperate cry, hands gripping his thigh and the chair's armrest so hard the nails left little scratches in the wood. He barely had time to notice it before her climax hit him like a truck - the convulsing of her inner walls, gripping and spasming tightly around his fingers as he slowed and stroke out her high.
This moment was pure madness in his veins - his head foggy and airy, like a drug, like a vicious new addiction he would do almost anything for. Her body went slack against him, and the only thing that held her upright was Alastor's arm still securely around her, still keeping her pressed onto his hard length, still pulsing for some release of his own. Alastor wanted more, already was plotting what his hands could be doing to her body next as she came down from her high and back to earth, the heat leaving her body slowly as the soundproofed air trapped within the booth hung heavy with her hot breath and the smell of her passion.
The first movement of hers, after having come undone so beautifully for and on him, was to lift up the headphones.
"Well then, little engineer.", he huffed into her ear, laughing with barely hidden delight. "What is your final assessment?"
"Your microphone works perfectly. J-just like I said it would." She was determined, if nothing else. And unbearably cute when she was defiant. Alastor simply adored a fiery spirit, even as he was already thirsting for more. He looked up, her sharp tone prickling his pride. He shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes, his usually calm smile tugging upward in a half smirk as she avoided his eyes. Oh, was she starting to have second thoughts about her tone towards him?
"I always admired your work ethics and knowledge, my dear, even though you eluded my attempts to give you your well-deserved recognition." The hand not occupied in playing with her still moist, delicate flesh lifted the arm that she had still buried in his thigh, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles as he brought it to his lips. She went still as a stone under his fingertips. "I asked myself, what would be the reason you ignored and evaded me for so long? Do you dislike me that much, little engineering girl?"
"No." It took her a moment, a little quiver in her voice, but it seemed like this was the first time in a long while that her answer was as blunt and truthful. He sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on her hand. "Quite the contrary, in fact."
His eyes snapped to her, narrowed. She still refused to look at him, still tense and obviously embarrassed, her free hand trembling on her lap. So it hadn't been animosity that made her behave so coldly towards him, not aversion that made her flee his presence and not prejudice that made her avoid their encounters but...
"Ah." Alastor chuckled softly at her awkward behavior, grinning delightedly at the revelation. "Of course."
Shyness was a curious thing, he thought, often misinterpreted as either prude modesty or cold antipathy. And it seemed Alastor had fallen for the latter interpretation - he would've been miffed at the thought if it hadn't brought her here, into his lap, and into his hands - alas, better late than never, he guessed. And there was still something to take care of.
"Well, since you're not running from me now..." His hand left hers and joined his other one in pulling the belt of her pants open, gently tugging on the metal buckle until the strap slipped free. "Let me finally show my gratitude in kind, for the lovely engineer and her marvelous work."
He loosened his tight grip on her, enough so that he could turn her to face him - for once, she glanced at him from under her lashes, not only out of bashfulness now - but he thought he saw something like cautious anticipation there, too. His grin became even wider as she kept his gaze, even if barely. A last stubborn act of shy rebellion - in another situation it would have enraged Alastor, but now, he was delightfully fascinated and challenged by her stubborn nature, by the unpredictability of her reactions even now, as she herself hooked her fingers under the hem of her pants and pushed them down over her shapely hips.
The last barrier of decency fell between them, revealing the full picture before him - there was her reddened face framed by cascading locks, eyes lowered in embarrassed defeat; Her stiffened nipples prominent on her perky, tight breasts; The damp patch of dark pubic hair that barely hid her glistening privates and the plush roundness of her thighs. And the whole body covered in tiny, white streaks, healed cuts and burns scattered in between her freckles. Oh, she would be delightful to ruin over and over again.
He took a step towards her, his hands immediately moving to her hip, exploring, caressing the soft flesh. This time, she did not move away from his touch and watched him with big, wide-blown eyes, full of expectation and a new type of uncertainty as he lifted her up onto the main control panel. He discarded of his jacket, the cloth too heavy and hot for him now, and threw it aside carelessly, leaving his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck as he went back to the woman, his little prey. Her knees parted slightly when his body wedged between them, an inviting gesture from her, though Alastor suspected she herself didn't notice. He grinned darkly, lifting her chin up by a finger, before bending over and planting a firm but restrained kiss on her lips, feeling his own skin crawl in electric stimulation, eager to finally taste her. His hands made quick work of his slacks, freeing his almost painfully erect member with a pleased sigh. From the way she gasped and her eyes widened, he could easily deduct that she had less to no experience whatsoever.
Oh, what a fortune. Alastor relished the thought of claiming precious, well kept treasures, his breath quickened as he broke from the kiss, hands running over her heated skin in swift, soothing motions, goosebumps trailing in their wake as he felt her shudder with hesitant desire beneath him. Oh, this would be fun.
"Let's be sure you'll hear my message loud and clear, this time, hm?"
He took her mouth again before she could protest, discreetly angling the microphone down with one hand just near enough where she would soon enough be connected to him. With a sly grin, he lined himself up to her waiting entrance and slowly pushed in. She stiffened at the unfamiliar invasion, a mewl muffled against his lips and hands in his shirt, and he stilled, enjoying the way her body reflexively tightened and squeezed around him as she tried to cope with the sensation of him stretching her.
She gasped as her chest heaved from the feeling, her walls convulsing around him like a vice. He allowed a low groan to escape him, she felt so gloriously tight and hot he had trouble keeping his composure, hands twitching to rut into her and just plow through.
"Ready for the final test, darling?"
"T-test...?"
He didn't bother to give her an answer as he started to move. In and out, with slow and drawn out movements, keeping his thrusts shallow at first, deep and precise enough to press against her innermost point and making her moan helplessly. The wet sounds of their coupling reached his ears, coupled with her wanton cries, an obscene and enchanting noise he was waiting for. With a mischievous smile, he picked up the headphones from where she had put them down, lifting it to one of her ears. Her face flushed in such lovely shades of red when the squelching echoes of what the mic picked up reached her ears, amplified and oh-so-clear thanks to her own handiwork.
He let out a guttural chuckle as he leaned into her, still thrusting slowly, her head falling on his shoulder and hanging onto his shirt for dear life, knuckles white as she could hear all the sweet sounds their bodies made and how they connected, each inch of her body singing praises for only him, for his size and rhythm. He could tell the moment her walls began to relax around him, squeezing the blood into his member as she took him in again and again, accepting it's size wholeheartedly with greedy eagerness.
"Such a talented woman.", he praised into her free ear, sighing at the delicious way her slick, swollen lips slid over his length, her thighs twitching against his with every single thrust and every word that fell from his lips. "Just listen to the fruits of your impeccable labor, dearest. Almost wasted in a place like this."
A moan, shaky and delirious, a shuddering sob for him, so high and flustered she sounded almost pained escaped her throat. She pressed against him and with a jolt that reverberated through her spine, convulsing so sweetly against him he almost came from the tremor that rushed through his cock. But it wasn't her peak. Alastor hadn't gotten his fill yet and he wouldn't stop now until it was both of their turns, but damn if he wasn't tempted.
He reached to the other ear to put the second headphone on her. Now her world had no escape, she could only listen, only hear every filthy wet noise of his slick slide, his ragged breathing and the beat of her own heart- a heavy, cacophonous staccato.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, head clouded and flushed, looking up at him with rapt fascination. His own gaze met hers as his pace increased, suddenly snapping his hips with harsh precision, and his voice was low, carnal.
"But their loss is my gain, darling. Don't you ever forget that, now."
And his thoughts went to of those incompetent, thickheaded dunderheads who took their jobs, but were no where as skilled or invested as her, knowing full well they were inadequate and undeserving to get close to her, trying to touch what clearly should have been for him alone to do, and it sent a nasty spark of possessiveness through Alastor, igniting a furious hunger, a beast waking up within him and snarling with unbridled desire, to claim, to mark her as his. And nobody else's.
He grinned devilishly, a low rumble in his throat as a needy whine escaped his little engineer and he grabbed her waist tightly, digging his fingers into the fat there as he picked up speed and drilled into her with more intensity, savage, merciless and utterly ruthless, finally throwing all composure and rationality overboard to replace it with feral instinct and possessive desire. Her hands clutched him desperately, thighs tensing and pressing against his moving hips, her choked cries of his name were nothing else but heavenly and he was filled with lecherous obsession and greed - yes, he could get addicted to the sound of his name being screamed and moaned from her lips, her sweet, wet flesh fluttering around his throbbing length, the violent stuttering of her breath that just enticed and pleaded him to continue.
"Mine. My own, little, eager engineer." he hissed against the shell of her ear, headphones slipping from her, hips still pounding away at her heat with feverish pace and an undeniable pleasure coiling low and tightly within his pelvis. With every harsh thrust, every desperate, salacious cry, he pulled her deeper and deeper into sinful depravity, her head thrown back in bliss, the headphones slipping from her head as her nails scraped desperately over his clothed chest. The sharp bites of pain mixed with a sweet ache and tightening within Alastor, telltale signs of his climax nearing rapidly. "No more avoiding me, no more elusion or flight for you, understood? You are mine and mine alone."
Her toes curled as his words spurred her over the edge with him, her core spasming and quivering around him as her moans became ragged and desperate, jaw agape in rapture but no words found as she toppled into her orgasm, dragging and taking Alastor with her. The immense wave crashed into him and swept him along, and he growled in the sensational and exhilarating feeling and his head fell against her shoulder, with a growl ripping from his throat, low and guttural. His seed emptied in her with long, forceful spurts, her body tensing and relaxing as each twitch and jerk pushed his release deeper and deeper, the pleasure so acute, so sharp it was almost painful, until both their highs subsided and Alastor had to rest against her for a moment, their labored breaths the only noise that reached his ears.
Alastor sighed contentedly, his hand loosened it's grip and his fingertips gently traced over the angry, red lines they had left behind on her tanned skin of her waist, feeling her shivering underneath him. His lips pressed into the soft crook of her neck, placing a tender kiss on the flushed skin. He would have to do something about the bruising and marks... His eyes wandered up and he noticed that she was staring now, hazily and exhausted, her pupils still wide, lips bitten swollen and reddened, her cheeks and chest still painted pink with lingering arousal. The sight was so deliciously debauched and lewd, a smirk crept on his face.
"It seems that the equipment is indeed in perfect working order again, thanks to you, darling."
"...Yes, sir." she replied warily, her voice still breathless. Her usual demeanor returned, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes she tilted her head away from him. He chuckled, lifting her chin and capturing her lips once again, not much for hers but more for his own gain, and then moved off and out of her. He took a moment to savor the view - the red, swollen flesh, leaking his essence that pooled on the metal surface of his control panel he would work on in a few hours, and her thighs glistening in the faint orange light of the booth.
"Please, darling, from now on..." Alastor took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping the mess of his hands and cleaning her with careful gentleness, her legs twitching weakly at the contact.
"...call me Alastor."
He hummed quietly and lifted her from the console, closing the buttons on her blouse again with fastidious efficiency after she slipped back into her pants. Then, with a few quick motions, Alastor picked up his jacket and fixed his own appearance, before helping her stand properly on her trembling feet.
"I trust we won't have any misunderstandings anymore?" He smiled at her, tilting his head slightly, a soft and yet challenging smile, his hand cupping her face and the thumb brushing her lower lip. Her cheeks grew warmer and redder again, her eyes flickering downwards, then back up, before she nodded silently. "Excellent."
Alastor put the headphones back on their rack, before taking his glasses, slipping them back on and reaching for the door handle, his other hand extended towards his little engineer in an inviting motion.
"Come along, my dear. Let me treat you to a nice cup of coffee, I find there's nothing better after a job well done."
She paused, her face going a shade darker and her lips pressing together. Then, after a heartbeat, she stepped next to him and through the door he opened for her. He could see the small smile that crept onto her lips as she hurriedly passed him, a shy glance shot towards him, but this time it didn't feel like she wasn't fleeing, but almost daring for him to chase her.
Another kind of hunt, he mused, and the thought made him smile as he closed the door and followed her out.
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mechaknight-98 · 4 months
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Road Trip (NSFW) FT Nayeon and Tzuyu
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Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a short little 1500 word jaunt but no my brain made it 7500. No matter. It was a fun ride (Pun intended.) Not currently sure what the rest of the release schedule is going to be right now, but there will probably something smaller maybe two however enjoy this special holiday release.
 Driving from Anaheim, California to Houston, Texas is the worst. It’s not the most terrible thing I’ve ever had to do, but it’s in the top 20. Still, it was worth it. I was going to see my favorite K-pop group, Twice, and I would fly back after dropping off the rental. "Take photos," my dad convinced me. So, here I was, driving thousands of miles.
During one of my photo ops stops, I noticed a broken down van, smoke billowing from the engine. Three people were standing outside of it. I sucked my teeth.
“Sucks to be them,” I thought. As I passed, something told me to stop. I didn’t want to, but I did so against my better judgment. I stopped and walked over to them.
“Hey, do y'all need help?” I called out.
A feminine, accented voice responded, “Oh God, yes!” As I neared, I recognized two of the three faces. It was the matnae and maknae of Twice.
“Ehh, Nayeon and Tzuyu?” I said, bewildered.
“Ehh?” Nayeon replied, “You know us?” She added, and I nodded. Tzuyu laughed.
“Good, so no intros needed. You asked if you could help us. Can you drive us to the hotel?”
Tzuyu ran up to me and hugged me tightly, her eyes holding the cutest puppy dog pout. I sighed, resigned to my fate, and said, “Sure, let’s grab your stuff and go.” That’s when you approached.
“Thank you so much,” you said. “I’ll make sure the company pays you back for this.” I shrugged at your words, but you insisted. We loaded everything into the car and raced off to the hotel (metaphorically, of course). On the ride there, it was Tzuyu and me in the front, with Nayeon and you in the back.
“So, what’s your name?” Tzuyu asked with a hint of flirtiness.
“DJ, and you… don’t answer that. I already know… sorry, muscle memory.” I replied. Tzuyu laughed at my gaffe, as did Nayeon. You, of course, got it. They’re stars while you and I are seemingly normal.
“So, who is your bias?” Nayeon inevitably asked.
“That’s a setup… but I’m stupid, so Tzuyu,” I replied confidently.
Nayeon laughed and scoffed, then looked at you with a “Can you believe him?” look.
“Oh, so I’m your favorite,” Tzuyu acknowledged. I nodded, then turned on the Bluetooth for the radio. Tzuyu began to rock out to my heavy playlist as it started.
“Ugh,” Nayeon scoffed.
“I can play other stuff. I take non-country requests,” I replied. You laughed at my response, as you had been catering to the diva for the past few days. Conversely, the maknae piped up,
“No, I like this music. Especially this band. Chaeyoung introduced me to them.”
“Wait! Really? Chaeyoung introduced you to Architects, Tzuyu?” I asked, intrigued.
Tzuyu nodded before saying, “But please call me Chewy.” I gave her a thumbs-up as I continued driving. As we landed in New Mexico, I decided to get some photo ops at the Area 51 museum. Before stopping, I apologized to the rest of the passengers.
“Sorry, just wanted to get some pictures,” I explained. You and the girls nodded as I got out. Nayeon, being her sexy but conceited self, asked me to take some pictures at a nearby station. I obliged, and she posed.
“Be sure to send me those later because I look sexy,” she said confidently. I nodded as Nayeon went back to you. Meanwhile, Chewy politely asked me to take some pictures of her, which I happily obliged.
Her photos bordered more on the cute side, but when she wasn’t taking photos, she made some quite suggestive and flirty comments.
For example, when I showed her one taken with a silly hat on, she said, “Oh, that’s so nice. You make me glow, but can you make me squirm and scream?” Her tone was hushed enough so only I could hear her. I turned to her, and she just gave an innocent smile as if she wasn’t spouting filth.
I chuckled, which she mirrored as we talked.
“So, DJ, are you a professional photographer?” Chewy asked politely.
“Nope, working on getting there though,” I replied.
Chewy nodded before asking another question, “What’s stopping you?”
I laughed and partially joked, “Mostly money and experience. Once I have those, I’ll be there.” Chewy laughed and said,
“Well, I think you’re pretty good.”
While we were talking, Nayeon scoffed, “Chewy is swooning.”
“Really?” you asked.
“Can’t you tell? She’s been extra doe-eyed with him. She’s going to eat him alive, but that’s just her. She always goes for the kind and naive ones.”
“Hey, you used to be like that too, if memory serves correctly,” you countered.
“We were in high school, and I didn’t know any better,” Nayeon rebuked, and you laughed.
“Let Chewy have her moment. He seems nice.”
“That’s the problem,” Nayeon scoffed. While no one was looking, though, she leaned in and sneaked a kiss on your cheek.
“Thank you for ‘being my manager’ for this tour. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have,” Nayeon admitted. You smiled at her words before saying,
“You’re welcome, Nabong.” Nayeon’s lips curled upwards in a mischievous grin.
“I think I may need one of your full-body massages,” Nayeon said, emphasizing the word “massage,” letting you know what she meant. You smirked and said,
“Anything for my favorite bunny.”
After taking pictures, I continue the drive to the hotel. Conveniently, we're all staying at the same place.
You, Nayeon, and Tzuyu check in while I search for parking. When I finally enter, I try to be discreet.
"Um, one room for Dracul Bram?" I ask in a low tone. The hostess looks at my ID, then up at me with a confused but amused grin.
"Room 104," she says, "behind the check-in station and around the corner." I give her a thumbs-up and head towards my room.
I would have made it if not for someone behind me calling out, "DJ, where are you going?" I turn to see Chewy waving me over. She’s at the bar with you, Sana, another manager, and Nayeon. Resigned, I join you all.
As I approach, Sana laughs and says, "Oh wow, you’re so tall." I shrug, while you notice Chewy glaring at Sana. You chuckle internally, recognizing that Chewy is interested in me. Nayeon shoots you a knowing look, also noticing Chewy's reaction.
When I sit down, Sana quickly starts her flirty "interview."
"So, DJ, I hear you're quite the photographer?" Sana purrs.
"Um, still an amateur. I lack the funds and experience to be considered 'professional,'" I reply. Sana smirks.
"So why don't we help you get more experience? How would you feel about being my photographer for the concert in Houston?" My mind stalls as I try to process her proposal. The air grows thick, and while I'm dumbfounded, Tzuyu glares at her unnie. You and Nayeon laugh, recognizing the game Sana is playing. Chewy, completely unaware, takes the bait.
"But unnie, I thought you liked Mark a lot more. Maybe you should take him, and I'll take DJ?" Chewy proposes.
"Game, set, match," Nayeon whispers in your ear.
Sana smiles and replies to Chewy, "I don't know. You said DJ takes really good pictures, and I haven't seen them yet..." Before Sana can finish, Chewy quickly says,
"Fine... I'll take the room with Dahyun," Chewy sighs.
"Deal," Sana quickly agrees with a smile. I'm still reeling from the initial proposal as this deal unfolds around me.
Before I can fully process what just happened, the bartender approaches, asking for our drink orders. Chewy, still flustered from her exchange with Sana, quickly orders a soda. Nayeon orders a cocktail, and Sana, with a smirk, opts for something stronger. You and I both go for something simple, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire interactions around us.
"DJ, how did you end up driving from California?" Nayeon asks, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
"Well, I wanted to see you guys perform and take some photos along the way. My dad thought it would be a good idea," I explain, feeling slightly more comfortable now that the conversation has shifted to neutral territory.
Chewy brightens at this. "So, you like road trips and photography? That's a fun combination."
"Yeah, it's been an adventure," I admit, smiling at her enthusiasm. "And now, unexpectedly, I'm here with you all."
Sana, not one to let the spotlight shift too far, interjects, "Well, it's lucky for us that you stopped to help. Nayeon and Chewy would have  been stranded otherwise." Her tone is light, but there's a genuine appreciation beneath it.
"Definitely," you agree, raising your glass in a toast. "To unexpected adventures."
Everyone raises their glasses, and the mood relaxes further. As we chat, Nayeon nudges you and whispers something in your ear, causing both of you to laugh. 
Chewy, noticing this, leans in closer to me. "So, DJ, tell me more about your photography. What kind of subjects do you like to shoot?"
I start to answer, but I'm interrupted by a sudden buzz from Nayeon's phone. She glances at it and then groans. "It's our manager. He needs us for a quick meeting."
Sana rolls her eyes but stands up. "Duty calls. DJ, it was nice meeting you. Don't forget about our deal."
Chewy stands up reluctantly, giving me a small, shy smile. "I'll see you later, DJ."
As they head off, you stay behind for a moment. "You handled that well," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the world of K-pop chaos."
I laugh, feeling more at ease. "Thanks. I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."
"You'll be fine," you assure me. "Just keep being yourself. They seem to like you already."
With that, you head off to join the others, leaving me at the bar to reflect on the whirlwind of the evening. As I sit there, I can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about what the next few days will bring.
I decide to pay the tab before finishing my drink and heading to my room. I upload the picture to my tablet before sending the photos to Chewy and Nayeon. While going over them one of the pictures of Chewy stands out. I send it to my phone and make it my wallpaper while keeping my home screen something more nerdy. After that, I decided it was for the best if I went to sleep for the night. 
After I finally got comfortable and passed out you and the rest of the girls get out of your meeting. Nayeon Dramatically absconds with you to her room while Chewy checks her phone she notices my pictures. She smiles and sends me a cute little message. She is a little sad when I don't respond. She also decided to turn early.
You on the other enter your room hand in hand with Nayeon. She beams at you ready for her “massage”. She begins to strip for you and your smile grows wide.
“You always look like a kid in a candy store,”
You smile then reply, “With how hot you are can you blame me?” Nayeon grins and looks at you happily.
“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this,” she lies on the bed and spreads her long legs. You marvel at her thick thighs and buoyant ass. Nayeon beams as you stare at her “Well come on fuck me,” she says with an arrogant smile that drives you wild wild. You strip to her as she does her “sexy” shimmy she does whenever she's feeling herself. You line yourself up with her entrance. You rub her clit and pussy with your rod as she patiently waits. After a few minutes of teasing, she jams you inside her.
“Oh yes,” she moans as you bottom out in her. Her tightness takes your breath away as you wait for her to stop clenching you. When her body finally acclimated you begin to thrust in and out of her. She moans uncontrollably as you begin to thrust harder and harder.
“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she moans deliriously from the pleasure. You groan as you feel her tighten before she climaxes. You watch as her body arches back and her slick floods out of her. As she covers you cock and crotch in her cum you keep fucking her until you reach your high. You flood her with semen as you reach your orgasm. As the two of you come down from your mutual high you gaze at the clock.
“Shit! We can't do anymore because we have to get up early tomorrow,” you say stressed Nayeon nods before and the both of you pass out. 
I wake up early the next morning, shower, get changed, and get ready for the day. When I walk out, you, Sana, the other manager from last night, and Chewy are all waiting for me.
“Oh good, we didn't miss you. Congratulations, you've been selected to drive in Twice’s caravan,” you say to me.
I blink a couple of times before saying, “Huh?”
Chewy laughs and responds, “We are still missing one van, so we figured since we are all going to the same place, you could help us out again.” I process the information slowly.
Confused, I look at the group and realize that I’ve been temporarily enlisted into Twice’s caravan. Today, I’ll be driving the manager (Sam), Sana, and Chewy. I blink a few times but relent, “You all know I'm flying back, right?” I ask, concerned.
You nod and say, “As are we.”
I shrug and say, “Well, okay then.”
You clap your hands together. “Good, see you at the next hotel in Houston.” I nod quietly as I pack up. The girls and Sam follow me to the car. As we load up, Sana asks, “Hey DJ, you're big and strong. Can you help me with my bags?” I nod and lift her bags into the trunk. Sana smiles and caresses my arms.
“I knew you could do it,” she says seductively. I nod as Sana goes to sit. Chewy walks close to me, and instinctively I load up her bags. Chewy smiles, and we get ready to go. She takes her seat in the front with me. As I check to see if everyone is buckled, Sana flashes me a flirty smile. Once everyone is secure, I start driving.
Fifteen minutes into the drive, Chewy asks me what music she should put on. I catch myself before saying, “Put on Lorgar’s audiobook.” Instead, I suggest she put on the Whiplash playlist. She does so and is surprised when "Perfect World" by Twice is the first song. I catch the smiles aimed at me, then the confused look when the second song, "Backbreaker" by Fit For a King, comes on. Initially, my passengers are confused, but as they listen to more of the playlist, they start vibing with me.
After about six hours of driving, we make our first stop at a gas station. I take a few pictures of the desert and plains, which Sana sneaks her way into. When I finish, she gets close to me and says, “Oh, you're really good.” I thank her for the compliment, while also noticing Chewy sitting a little way off with a forlorn but cute pose. I snap a few photos before going into the convenience store section of the gas station and grabbing her a snack. When I walk out toward her, I sit next to her and hand her the snack. She looks at me and pouts, “I can't eat that. It will go straight to my thighs.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be bad? You have the sexiest thighs,” I say. Tzuyu giggles.
“You're just saying that,” she responds. I shake my head, resisting the impulse to pull her closer.
“You are super pretty, and I think one honey bun won't be the end of the world. Fifteen in two hours, though…that might be a problem,” I joke. Tzuyu smiles and leans on my shoulder.
Sana and Sam watch from a distance.
“Oh, she's got him,” Sam says with a laugh. Sana nods with a pout.
“He just looks so cuddly,” Sana laments.
“Yeah, I get that, but you get all the attention. Let Chewy have this one,” Sam replies.
Sana pouts again. “Okay.”
When we all get back into the car, the next song up is "In the Mouth of Madness" by Nightmares. Chewy enjoys it and asks about their other albums. I wince as I tell her this is their only one. She frowns but understands. After that, "Cheer Up" comes on, garnering a few more smiles.
"You like us," Chewy says.
I nod and reply, "Well, yeah. If it weren't for you all, I wouldn't have gotten through the pandemic. I was alone and isolated for most of it, and you nine got me through by being this giant pastel pink sign saying, 'Things will get better!' So I fought on." Chewy smiles warmly.
Sam hears this and says, "The little Once that could." I chuckle along with the rest of the car.
After a few more hours, we arrive at the last hotel. Curiously, we are the first to arrive, beating out the rest of the vans. Cameras and flashes surround the car as we step out. Momentarily blinded, I grab Sana's and Chewy's bags and help them check-in. When I go to check into my hotel, Sam stops me.
"We got you a room," he says. I nod and gratefully take the room key as we head to the elevator.
"Chewy likes you," he says out of the blue.
"What? No," I scoff.
Sam's eyes narrow. "Yes, she does. I have never seen her this engaged with someone, especially someone outside of Twice."
"She's just being nice," I say, still in disbelief.
Sam rolls his eyes as we exit the elevator. "You say that, but she loves the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing. She eats it up, and you being the bashful knight type—she's going to eat you alive."
"You make it sound like she's a maneater," I respond, confused.
Sam grins wickedly before entering his room. "She is, but she has picky tastes. Anyway, be careful—or not."
Left alone with a lot to process, I lie down and think about the day.
"Do I like Chewy back?" I ponder. 
"If I do, am I willing to give up my anonymity to be with her?"
My thoughts halt when I get a DM from Chewy saying, "Hey, can you come to my room? I need help ordering food." Without hesitation, I go. My heart had already chosen for me. When I get to her room, she’s in shorts and a crop top with a giant heart shape on it. She smiles at me.
"That was fast," she teases.
I smile and say, "Well, anything for royalty, I guess." She looks confused.
"Your song, 'Queen of Hearts,' and your shirt," I explain. Chewy looks down and laughs.
"Okay, I thought that was your first humor miss."
"I am always missing," I reply. Chewy smiles and pats the bed next to her. I walk and lie down next to her. She nestles closer as I help her order room service, wrapping herself around me tightly.
A knock on the door interrupts us. I go to open it, and Dahyun, Sana, Nayeon, and Jihyo arrive, along with you, Sam, and another manager, this one female.
"So, you're the Machine God I’ve been hearing so much about. The name's Sara," the female manager says, amused.
I look at her, confused.
Sara rolls her eyes as she says, "Oh, don't give me that puzzled look. You drove here straight without any breaks except a couple of stops for gas."
I nod, understanding now, as I walk back to the bed with Chewy. When I sit back down, you and Nayeon notice how Chewy moves her legs onto my lap.
"Oh, someone is staking her claim," you whisper calmly.
Nayeon whispers back, "I wonder how long until she drops the shyness and he sees her true self."
"Oh, it'll happen before we head back. I can see it in her eyes. She wants him badly, and she's barely containing herself. We probably delayed it tonight."
"What was that?" Sara asked, catching your whispered conversation with Nayeon.
"Oh, nothing, just discussing what we should order for room service after we leave," you reply quickly.
Sara isn't convinced. "Right," she says sarcastically, before turning to me.
"So, DJ, what does DJ stand for?"
Expecting this question, I sigh. "Promise not to laugh?" Everyone looks at me, puzzled but nods.
"My name is Dracul Marcus Bram Jr., but my family calls me DJ," I say. The room falls silent before Sara responds.
"Okay, I see why you prefer DJ, but I think Dracul is pretty badass." I give a thumbs up and try to blend back into the group dynamics. The doorbell rings, and Chewy jumps up excitedly. "I'll get it, Drac," she says, kissing me on the cheek. My mind blanks for a moment. I sit there, stunned, as Chewy fetches the food and returns. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she smiles.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
Still processing, I hear Sam laughing. When I finally regain my composure, I feel an unexpected calm and confidence.
"I just didn't expect that," I reply. Everyone hears the newfound steadiness in my voice and is taken aback. Usually, when Tzuyu shows her real self to someone she likes, they become more timid. This is the first time anyone has taken her advances in stride.
Tzuyu feels a shift inside herself. In her mind, I transform from "Cute Teddy Bear" to "I want this man to father my children," though only for a moment before settling on "Datable Material."
The silence grows uncomfortable, so I say, "The food looks good, Chewy. We should eat before it gets cold." For the first time, Chewy is the one flustered. She giggles and smiles, bringing the food over. She got a burger, and I got a quesadilla—though it might have been called something else, it had all the ingredients.
Tzuyu and I eat comfortably while the others watch. You notice a change in our body language. We're no longer timidly stealing glances or shyly flirting. Chewy gives me ravenous looks, and I reciprocate with calm, measured passion. If you were more observant, you would have noticed our touches growing more frequent until we were holding hands.
The atmosphere between us shifts. Instead of a bashful princess and her shy knight, we exude the air of two confident equals—me, the composed diplomat, and her, the assertive Empress. Her eyes say she wants to devour me, and I feel the same urge. Yet, with an audience, the battle must wait. We're so engrossed in our little world that we don't notice the others leaving until the door closes and Dahyun says, “Goodbye.” We wave politely, but as soon as the door closes, Chewy grabs me and pulls me in for an emotional, sloppy kiss.
I love it and let her take the lead this time. She broke the kiss. She was frantic, “should I go fast? Should I savor you and make a mess of you?” Tzuyu said as her mind raced. 
I smirked and calmly replied, “It's not a race,” 
Tzuyu gave me the sexiest and most ferocious glare before she said “I am going to drain every single last drop of cum from you and make you scream my name all night,” I surrender to her fervor this time as she brings me in for another kiss. I guess savage maknae wasn't a cute nickname. Her kisses were messy but also extremely hot. She was vicious but she knew what she wanted and I was going to let her have it. 
While she kissed me I felt her hand slip into my sweatpants. I feel her hand reach my rod and she begins to slowly stroke.
She breaks the kiss and stares at me luridly. 
“Ah Tzuyu,” I moan out. Tzuyu smiles
“Whose cock is this?” she asks innocently
“Yours,” I moan she nods happily. 
“Good. Now I'm going to suck my cock and you're going to paint my face. Can you do that for me?” she asks hungrily. I nod as she pushes my sweatpants down and moves to my cock. She continues her glacial pace that I both hate and love. She looks up at me her gaze is ferocious as she devours me. Drool pools around my shaft as sloppily engorged herself. She comes up for air and resumes stroking me.
“Do you like it?” she asks innocently. I nod helplessly. She goes to my frenulum and teases it with her tongue. I moan her name again. She smiles and goes back down on me. I try to hang on but everything about what she's doing to me has me on edge. I tilt her face up bring her lips back to mine and kiss her. Her eyes are wide the entire time with surprise but she happily accepts the kiss. When we break it she smiles. 
“I appreciate your adoration,” she says before slapping me,
“But tonight I'm in control,” she says firmly I nod.
“I'll let that transgression slide because you're so cute, but next time I won't be so forgiving,” I nod and feel my cock twitch in her hand. She notices 
“Are you close babe?” she asks sweetly. I nod and she does everything in her power to get the largest load possible. 
“Oh fuck Tzuyu,” I scream out as I cum all over her face. She smiles as she gets up. She sauntered off like a satiated predator. As I lay there the weight of what just happened hits me. My cock despite having just orgasmed is still rock hard and overwhelming my body with thoughts of pinning Tzuyu down and railing her. When she does get back she is fully nude and sauntering back for seconds. Our eyes narrow as both our predatory natures rise to the surface. Who will be the first to submit? we ask each other with our eyes. I get up and approach her I strip down as well before reaching her. She looks up into my eyes. I see vulnerability but also a deep fathomless lust. I kiss her forehead which makes her smile acutely and then I bend her over the bed and impale her.
“Oh fuck Dracul,” she yells as I fully rest myself inside her. I wait for her to stop shaking, and then I start thrusting. Tzuyu loses it as my cock ravages her pussy. I put one hand on her hips and the other firmly groped her breast. She moans uncontrolled. I take my time with her body searching for the best angles hoping to get her off. Eventually, I find the winning combination of thrusts, touches, and kisses as she yells, “fuck Dracul I'm cumming.” her womanhood tensed and tightened around me before she squirted profusely over my cock. When she finishes I pump my load into her causing her to orgasm again. 
We fall into bed and pass out after that when I wake up we are spooning and my cock is still deep within her. Feeling me stir she moans as she jolts awake she turns to me and trapezes on top of me before she begins to ride me. Her hands pin mine as she aggressively ruts and grinds into me like an animal in heat. With her ferocious tempo neither of us last long as we cum together. She smiles as she gets off of me and my cum drips down her thighs. 
She goes to shower, giving me a chance to do the same in my room. When I finish, I notice a message on my phone:
“I didn't say you could leave. Meet me downstairs for breakfast.”
Tzuyu’s possessiveness is both sexy and annoying, but I comply. When I arrive, she’s sitting with Chaeyoung and Dahyun, looking relaxed and pleased. I grab a light breakfast of an omelet and toast and join them. They all smile and wave as I sit down.
“So, you're DJ?” Chaeyoung asks. I nod and extend my hand for a shake, which she accepts. Then, I surprise them by praying over my food. 
While we eat, you and Nayeon join us. You notice a few bite marks on my neck and discreetly point them out to Nayeon, who laughs more openly. When Dahyun asks about it, you casually say, “Inside joke.”
You grab a plate for Nayeon, who’s “too exhausted” to do much herself. As you sit back down, Nayeon gives you a mischievous glance before turning to Tzuyu and me.
“So, Tzuyu, did you enjoy DJ last night?” she asks.
I laugh and start to get up, but Tzuyu grabs the edge of my shirt, stopping me. I sit back down as she responds, “I did. He was great. Why? Are you jealous?”
The group falls silent. You look at a stunned Nayeon, then an amused Tzuyu. I marvel at Tzuyu, who turns to me and asks,
“So, what are your plans for today?”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts before replying, “Well, I was planning to visit a couple of tourist sites, play some Commander, and then catch the Rockets game tonight.”
Tzuyu eyes me cautiously before responding, “Okay, but get back as quickly as you can. I have some things I want to discuss with you for tomorrow’s concert. We have a soundcheck today.”
I nod and ask when the soundcheck is. She gives me the time, and I reply, “Oh, I can make that.”
Tzuyu smiles and says, “Perfect!”
  After breakfast, we all split up. Tzuyu corners me, and I can see the arousal in her eyes.
“Do you think you could spend more quality time with me tonight?” she asks. I nod, and she smiles before kissing me. Her tongue pierces down my throat, leaving me breathless.
“Be ready. Yesterday, I only got a taste, but tonight I'm going to devour you,” she says firmly, making me squirm. I nod and give her a timid thumbs-up, fighting the urge to let her have me right there. Tzuyu smiles as she walks away.
When I get to my rental car, you manage to find me.
“My boss has been looking over your work, and he's impressed. He wants to offer you a spot for the rest of the tour,” you tell me. I sit in the car, shocked, before responding,
“How much would the pay be? I’d have to quit my job.”
You eye me nervously and ask, “How does USD 150,000 for the rest of the stops sound?”
I blink at you a couple of times, then calmly say, “That works.”
You also hand me a check for $30,000 to cover the rental, gas, and any other minor expenses. I look at you and sigh.
“I’m going to use this to buy more professional camera equipment since everything else is already accounted for and budgeted,” I reply.
You smile and say, “Well, then you'd better hurry.”
I nod and leave, allowing you to go back to Nayeon with a dumb grin on your face.
Nayeon smiles and says, "Based on your look, I assume he took the deal."
You laugh, relieved, and nod, replying, "Yes, and the dummy is using the money to buy more professional gear."
Nayeon gives you a confused look before asking, "Wait, why is that dumb?"
"Well, short answer: we were going to have him use the gear we already had. But since he's doing all this work to get better, newer gear, we get a return on the rentals. So he's saving us money, and we don’t get used gear. Plus, he's the only one liable,” you say, elated.
Nayeon nods and laughs at my over-eagerness. “Okay, great! Now we 
have some unfinished business,” Nayeon replies.
You approach your starlet with the fervor she deserves. She smiles as she watches you strip bare excited to have you inside her once again. You approach her bare body and begin to kiss her feet, because if there is one thing that Nayeon loves it's being worshiped. so you start with kissing her feet, then you meander to her thighs where you let loose upon them. You spent almost an hour kissing biting and licking her thighs until Nayeon couldn't take it anymore
"Fuck me till I beg you to stop" She whined. You smiled before taking your cock out and plunging into her. 
"Ah Fuck," Nayeon moaned as her pussy acted more like a constricting snake than the bunny she moonlighted as. you moan as you impale her. 
"how are you still so tight?" you ask. Nayeon laughs as she coils around you tightening her pussy even more. 
You two begin to fuck in earnest. You grind ruthlessly into each other's hips as both of you attempt to maximize pleasure for yourselves. You loved that you could be as selfish as you wanted being Nayeon's lover because she was equally as selfish. it made all things with her so honest. you lift her hips to get deeper trying to hit her cervix which Nayeon loved despite the soreness it gave her. when you feel your tip hit her cervix Nayeon moans, and you keep pounding into her tight pussy. 
Her walls continue to get tighter miraculously as you push in and out of her forcing her to take more and more of you. her eyes roll into the back of her head as her tits bounce due to the force of your thrust into her. her blissed-out face makes you smile, and yet somehow her pussy tightens around you again. As she starts convulsing she starts cumming violently around your cock. you groan and push through feeling her walls forcibly trying to milk you. you push past the tightness and look at her.
"I love how fast you cum Nabong. It's so hot," you say as Nayeon moans all around you. you keep thrusting into her while her mind is broken by the pleasure she feels. eventually, you can't hold it anymore and you cum inside of her. You moan as she moans your name before flooding her guts with your seed. After that, she begs you not to go again due to her sensitivity.  
While Nayeon and you were having fun, I was getting a myriad of things done throughout the city. After finishing lunch, I got a text from Tzuyu asking me to meet her at the soundcheck, which was a bit earlier than anticipated. So I headed to the venue. I was stopped at the gate by security, but just then, Jeongyeon arrived. She laughed at me waiting and said to the security guard,
"Why is Tzuyu's photographer being held up by you?" The man went pale. Jeongyeon grabbed me and took me with her.
"You're lucky I was here; otherwise, you'd have been stuck until we left," she teased.
"Thanks, Jeongyeon-noon," I said. Jeongyeon looked at me, disgusted.
"Nope, I hate it. Just call me Jeongyeon," she said firmly. I nodded.
"One last question. Do you know where Tzuyu will be?" Jeongyeon nodded and had me follow her.
We arrived at the staging room. She opened the door, and Tzuyu looked up, making eye contact with me before her face erupted into a smile and a light giggle. Jeongyeon smiled and said, "Don't have too much fun, lovebirds," and then left for another area.
Tzuyu scowled, then turned to me with a happy smile, beckoning me to sit next to her by patting the couch. She hugged me and said, "What took you so long, babe?"
I replied plainly, "I didn't have any credentials according to the security guard, and Mal couldn't vouch for me." Tzuyu nodded as she cuddled me.
"Did you have fun before at least?" she asked happily. Dahyun walked in before I could answer.
Her cute, bewildered look was adorable as she asked, "OH! Am I interrupting something?" I shook my hands, and Tzuyu confirmed she wasn't.
Dahyun sat next to us and pulled out her phone. "I was mostly doing banking stuff since Mal gave me a check for helping you all."
Tzuyu nodded and smiled, "Okay, well, it's good to see you." I gave Chewy a thumbs-up, and she smiled. Dahyun took the lull in the conversation to talk to me.
"So, DJ. How are you feeling about all of us so far?"
"I love it. This is the most... interesting time I have had in a while, so I can't complain too much." Dahyun smiled and said,
"That's great."
I nodded at Dahyun as Chewy nestled closer. As we settled in, a camera flashed. Stunned and confused, I waited for my eyes to readjust, then saw Sara and Sana holding their phones, laughing.
Sara turned to Sana and said, "Oh, got the two lovebirds nesting." Sana laughed with Sara as they walked out. Chewy held me tighter. About 18 minutes later, all of the girls were called for the full run-through. I got up, but before I could join them, you stopped me and handed me multiple badges.
"Here are your badges for the soundcheck and tomorrow's concert," you said firmly. I nodded.
You nodded then said, "Now I know you are hired to be Tzuyu's photographer, but feel free to get some shots of the other girls here and there." I nodded in affirmation.
"Great. Now, last thing: have fun. This is meant to be work, but nothing says we can't enjoy it. Although, based on the noises I heard last night, you certainly know how to have fun."
I laughed and threw you a curveball, "Yeah, I’m sure you do as well with Nayeon." You looked at me, shocked.
"You picked up on that?" you asked, bewildered.
I nodded and said, "Just because it seems like I am not paying attention doesn't mean I am not."
You nodded before saying, "Remind me not to underestimate you."
I smiled and said, "Don't worry, everyone does."
You furrowed your brow, then said, "I won't make a habit of it. So, what did you get today?"
"I got the Nikon Z6III, a Z8, and Z9 cameras, and five various Z-mount lenses."
"Wow, you must like Nikon, but question. Why only on hold? You need them, right?"
"I do, but not right now, and I am waiting for the check to clear. So if you are messing with me, I'll know beforehand."
You considered my words. "Hm, that's quite cunning of you."
I shrugged and replied, "If you think so." You laughed before signing off.
I spent the rest of the soundcheck recording videos and taking pictures while weaving in and out of the "crowds." You watched from afar and noticed my shooting style. It's exceptionally patient, which you found surprising, but you didn't watch me for long as your manager duties and your love for a specific bunny-associated idol forced you to pivot your focus constantly. after the Soundcheck, I head back to my rental followed by Chewy, Mina, and Chaeyoung. we hop in and Mina says, 
"So Mr. Bram if that is your real name I have a question for you. What are your intentions without Maknae?" I look at her then Chewy then at Chaeyoung. I consider saying something dumb but decide on the rational option. 
"I like her and I hope she likes me back. otherwise, just take it slow I guess," Mina eyes me suspiciously but relents.
When we arrive back at the hotel I was expecting a quiet night with Chewy, but I am quickly thrust into a party with the rest of Twice as they get out their pre-concert jitters. 
it was hectic among other things. there was drinking, karaoke, dancing, and other shenanigans. I was able to steal a few moments with Chewy and we were able to discuss the photos I took today. She also liked the photos I took of the other members. 
"Hey, lovebirds. No discussing work," a drunk Nayeon said to us as we chatted on the edge of the "party." 
I tapped out at about 12:45 AM, while the Extroverts of the group plus Nayeon (she is an honorary extrovert) Mina, Jeongyeon, and Momo kept going. I got to my room and was surprised to hear a knock on the door. I open it and Chewy is waiting outside. I wince before saying,
"I am sorry Chewy but I can't do anything else tonight." Chewy smiles before saying
"Good me too. I just wanted to cuddle tonight." I give her a thumbs up and we get in the bed before passing out. I wake up before her and shower. after the shower, she looks at me with a hungry look. I sigh and say,
"As much as I would like to spend more time with you I have too much to do." Chewy rolls her eyes before getting up to kiss me and then shower herself. 
"Fine but can I ride with you?" I nod and we get ready.
fast forward we pick up the cameras and lenses. I also pick up more memory and a few other essentials. I charge all of them at the hotel as Chewy and I float around doing our various concert preparations. When we have to leave you and Sara ride with me while the girls ride together. We arrive at the venue and it's on from there.
I hustled around the venue, my camera clicking away as I captured the energy of the final preparations. The air was thick with excitement and a touch of nervousness. Tzuyu spotted me from across the room and made her way over, her face lighting up with a smile.
“Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Her eyes sparkled with determination.
“You don’t need it, but good luck anyway,” I replied, grinning back at her.
The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd surged through the arena. The concert had begun. I moved through the crowd, capturing the electrifying performances, the fans’ ecstatic faces, and the sheer energy of the night. 
Now and then, Tzuyu would glance my way, our eyes meeting for a brief moment amidst the chaos, a silent connection that kept me grounded.
After the concert, the atmosphere was jubilant. The group members hugged each other, celebrating their success. 
Tzuyu found me in a quieter corner, her face glowing with happiness and exhaustion.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Not just for the photos, but for me.”
“Anytime,” I replied, holding her close. she tried to protest due to being sweaty and smelly but I informed her that we were well past that
Just then, you approached us, holding an official-looking document. “Well, you made it. (I nod) I take it you had fun? (I nod again) Good well there is only one last bit of business. Are you willing to do the rest of the tour?”
I looked at Tzuyu. Her eyes were hopeful, yet she remained silent, not wanting to sway my decision. I thought about the journey, the connections I had made, and the possibilities that lay ahead.
“I’d love to,” I said, smiling as I took the contract. Tzuyu beamed with joy.
As the celebration continued, Tzuyu and I slipped away to a quieter spot on the rooftop, overlooking the city lights. The night was cool, and the city seemed to sparkle just for us.
“We did it,” Tzuyu said, leaning against the railing, her hand entwined with mine.
“We did,” I agreed, looking out at the horizon. “And it’s just the beginning.”
“Promise me something,” she said, turning to face me. “No matter how crazy things get, we make time for moments like this.”
“Promise,” I said, sealing it with a kiss.
We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights casting a soft glow around us. At that moment, I felt a sense of peace and anticipation. The future was uncertain, but it was bright, filled with endless possibilities.
As the night wore on, I reflected on my journey. From a chance encounter to this incredible moment, I found love, friendship, and a new path in life. And for the first time in a long while, I was truly excited for what lay ahead.
Tzuyu and I shared a final kiss under the stars, ready to face whatever the future held, together. 
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queensunshinee · 4 days
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His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader
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Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.
Word Count: 6.5k
(part 1)
His favorit toy- Part 2:
Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.
Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?
A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.
Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.
"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.
"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.
"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.
"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.
"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.
"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.
"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.
"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.
"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?
"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.
Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.
That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.
"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.
"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.
‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.
‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.
‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.
"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.
“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.
“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.
All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.
“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.
“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.
“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.
I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.
“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.
His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.
He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.
“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.
"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .
The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-
'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-
'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.
I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.
The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.
"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."
. . .
So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys
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ellatoone7 · 6 months
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❄︎ Close Call ❄︎
Alexia's favourite girls series
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You and Alexia have a scare on your way to Alba's
It was only a ten-minute drive to pick Isabella up from Alba’s. She had looked after her goddaughter for the night while you and Alexia celebrated your Anniversary. You had been fiddling around with the radio until you found a station that you liked when Alexia passed you the aux. You leaned over to kiss her cheek gratefully as you quickly threw on your playlist. Alexia’s hand was settled on your thigh while you stroked her forearm comfortingly. 
“I really needed that last night Ále, thank you baby.” Alexia bit her lips gently at the memory of her hips meeting yours repeatedly. It had been the first proper time since your daughter was born and she was nervous but so caring. You had wanted her to make love to you and that she did and God she did it well. You shifted in your seat trying to calm yourself down before you make her pull over and take you again. 
“You are not sore, you promise you’re okay?” She asked for the millionth time, and you squeezed her arm in reassurance, “Yes, I promise, I feel good, nearly too good so please stop looking at me like that.” She laughs loudly before taking your hand and kissing the back of it sweetly. “Echo de menos a mi niña.” Alexia confessed and you nodded hurriedly, completely understanding her and wanting to be back as a family as soon as possible. 
“I hope she’s awake.” Alexia huffed amusedly, “She is with Alba, she is going to be knocked out mi amor.” Alba claimed the fun aunt from the very start, and she had stuck to her word as she had gone and bought a countless number of toys for the 6-month-old who could not properly appreciate them. It was clear from the start that Alba was just as protective as her older sister and would do anything for her family and that had always included you and now her heart and soul Isabella.
You had no doubt that if anything was to happen to the both of you that your daughter would be taken care of. That was something you never had to think about until you saw a car barrelling towards you as you shouted Alexia’s name in pure fear. You think you might have blacked out for the next few minutes. The only thing you could feel was the strong beating of your heart as it raced in your chest. 
You were terrified to open your eyes, you may not be dead but if your wife was then you might as well be. You were so unbelievably unaware of your surroundings. The images tearing through your mind were crushing the air from your lungs. Your ears were ringing, and you didn’t feel or see any signs of life from the woman next to you. You were choking down a sob as your reality sank in. You were begging whoever could hear you for your wife to be okay not yet able to open your eyes. You felt your car door open and a familiar voice frantically calling your name.
Alexia’s hands were everywhere as she pulled you out of the car, thankfully unharmed as her eyes scoured your body. “Bebita! ¿Esta bien? What hurts? Are you okay?” Your body was overwhelmed at the sight of her in front of you that you didn’t register the fact that Alexia had managed to swerve completely out of the way and only bumped into the barrier at the side of the road. Alexia nearly ripped the car door off as she got to your side, pure terror spreading through her at how you were not responding to her. Her hands shook as they hovered over your face, and she was absolutely trembling at the lack of response from you. “¿Mi amor?” It came out as a broken sob and that’s what snapped you out of it. “Ále! I…Are you okay?” Alexia couldn’t even comprehend the relief that flooded her body as she cried. “Sí, sí, I’m fine. I was so worried! You weren’t answering me.” 
You collapsed into her, the absolute terror of what just happened knocked the wind from your lungs and you felt like she couldn’t breathe. “I love you.” Alexia’s handheld your head so gently as if any touch would harm you when it was the exact opposite. You gripped onto her so tight, “I love you, Ále I love you.” You chanted like your life depended on it. 
“Te amo, te amo, te amo, te amo mucho, mucho.” Alexia squeezed you, making sure you were actually alright. “Issy, Isabella, Mi niña pequenita. Necesito ver a nuestra nińa!” Alexia frantically ranted as she looked around panicked. “Ále…Alexia, look at me! We are fine, you made sure of that. You protected us, you did so good!” You stared up at her, making sure she knew and understood everything that you were telling her. Alexia took a deep breath as a paramedic came over to make sure the both of you were okay. Alexia also gave a statement to the police before calling Alba. 
Eli drove Alba and Isabella to where Alexia had told her to meet them. She had just about calmed down, her hands still shaking slightly at the thoughts of what could have happened if Alexia didn’t swerve. She looked back at the little girl snoozing away in her car seat and it felt like a hand had wrapped around her heart and squeezed. 
Alba was frantically tapping her leg, asking her Mami about a million questions to calm herself down. When they had arrived, she bolted out to throw herself into her sisters’ arms. Alexia held her just as tight, reassuring her that it was fine until Alba was out of her arms and into yours. “Issy?” Alexia asked before racing over to where her mother was standing with her daughter, “Mami, I…Issy, Te amo, te amo mucho.” Eli shushed her eldest as she pressed a kiss to her forehead before handing her Isabella. 
Alexia cried silently into her daughter’s shoulder, pressing soft kisses against her chubby cheeks. ‘Mi niña perfecta, mi princesa. Te amo bebita, te amo mucho.” She cooed holding her closer to her body as Issy blinked up at her, not understanding anything that was happening but grateful to see her mother. 
She nuzzled her little face into her neck, something that Alexia had not known she needed until her little girl had completely calmed her down. “Let’s go see Mama, sí.” You were surrounded by your family as Alba still clung onto you. You had always been such a huge figure in Alba’s life, and she loved you just as much as she loved her own sister. Eli as calm as ever was stroking your hair and making you smile just like she used to when you were younger.
Your eyes lit up when you saw your two girls. Alexia’s arm wrapped around you as she made sure you could see Isabella. “Hi, Is, are you sleepy? We need to get you home huh? I love you so much my darling.” Alexia kissed your forehead before inviting her mother and sister into the hug. 
It might not have been a serious accident and luckily you and Alexia were fine, but it was still terrifying and as you held your little girl closer to you, you couldn’t help but feel a new sense of appreciation for the life you built.
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voltas-do-mar · 7 months
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are you shared by anyone saying a volta, or are you uniquely the lieutenant's?
i am many voices / a past of creation songs sung through an air of mystique i can draw from sources outside on occasion and i'm far from exclusive technique but in terms of collective / i bear no relation i am - to my pilot - unique
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hoomandoescosplay · 8 months
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On The Air | Alastor x Reader Oneshot
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In the early morning I feel Alastor get up from our bed causing me to slightly groan and pull the covers up a bit more.
I hear a muffled laugh come from him as he walks into our bathroom to get ready for work. I shift my position a bit, getting more comfortable to drift off again.
Eventually he comes back in, one more time, and leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I love you my darling. I’ll be back home before you know it.” I mumble an incoherent response back, still being half asleep, before he leaves heading out to the radio station.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
I wake up noticing the empty, and slightly cold spot, next to me. Sighing I sit up to stretch before getting out of bed and walking into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.
As I enter the kitchen, I see a tray of toast with butter and jam, an omelette, and a plate of sausages and potatoes. Alastor even prepared my coffee just the way I liked it.
After taking note of the thoughtful breakfast I noticed a note as well. I picked it up to read it as a smile engulfed my face.
Don't worry about breakfast, I prepared it for you, my darling.
I shall be home later today as the radio station has requested for me to stay longer tonight.
I’m sorry I won’t be home as soon as I originally thought today.
I’ll make it up to you darling. Kisses.
- Al ♡
Ever since we started dating, before that even, Alastor always tried his best to make me happy and put a smile on my face.
While I’m a bit sad he has to work a few extra hours today it also gives me more time to get some last minute gifts I wanted to give him today.
I stretch once more before grabbing the plate of sausages and potatoes along with the omelette to heat up over the stove.
I flick on the radio and start humming along with the song that is playing. As I continue to heat up the food, I hear something over the radio. It's Alastor's voice, he's on air at the moment making me smile.
“And that was some wonderful music for you. Now back to your wonderful host, here's me, Alastor!” A clapping track plays after he finishes his sentences causing me to roll my eyes playfully.
“How is everyone doing today? I'd hope well considering it’s Valentine’s Day.” He takes a second to pause. “I'd like to talk with you about something important as always - it's not the time to panic, but I think we should all remain vigilant because of the terrible events happening in nearby cities.”
I turn off the stove and slightly tune out his voice talking about the recent murder spree happening around our city.
Placing my food onto the dining room table I walk back into the kitchen to bring the radio with me into the dining room as I catch the last bit of his spiel on the recent murders.
“As always, I urge you all to stay cautious. And if you want to, you can always call in here and we'll chat. The police have assured us that they are working hard and that we should have no grounds for concern... But still, stay vigilant, my friends, stay vigilant.”
Taking a breath he starts up again. “Onto some lighter news, let's talk about Valentine’s Day. anyone want to call in and tell us what date you have planned for your special someone?” he asks in his radio voice as I start to eat my breakfast.
Not long after he asks for people to call in, someone's voice is already being heard through the radio.
The woman on the line is excited and speaks quickly: “Oh, I’ve got the best plans! My boyfriend and I are going out for dinner at a fancy new place we’ve been dying to try and to top it all off he said he would take me to one of his favorite spots. It's going to be so romantic.” She swoons and I can only assume blushes as well.
“Ah, how romantic. I do hope you have a wonderful time.” Alstor says as she thanks him before hanging up. A he takes a few more callers before he starts introducing the next song he has lined up to play.
I finish my breakfast and start to pick up the tray to bring into the kitchen for me to start cleaning.
I take the radio with me once more back into the kitchen. “Coming up next, the most romantic song I’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. All the ladies, all the men, get ready cause this song is going to just melt your heart. This one’s for you, everyone, and you especially, my love. This song is just for you. I hope you enjoy it.” I blush and roll my eyes playfully as I start to wash the dishes.
“Such a lover boy.” I mumble with a smile starting to spread on my face. The song ends much too soon and Alastor starts to talk on the air a while longer once more.
I shut the radio off after drying my hands and head into our bedroom to get dressed for the day. Getting dressed quickly, I check the time. It's still early morning which gives me more than enough time to do some shopping before he gets home.
I finish getting ready quickly and start to walk to the shops nearby to get a few things. I’ve been eyeing some new bowties I’ve seen and decided it would be a good idea to get him a new one along with some other small gifts.
The short walk ended as I walked into a store. As I browse I immediately see the bowtie I’ve been eyeing for weeks. It's a beautiful piece and I think that he would love it.
I also see some other romantic items, like a box of chocolates, a teddy bear, and a beautiful bunch of flowers. I decide to get all of the items and head to the register to check out.
I am happy with the selection I’ve made, and I feel like Alastor is going to be very happy with his gifts as well. The cashier rings up my items quickly. I pay the cashier and leave the shop with my bag of gifts. Satisfied with the amount of gifts I found I decide head back home.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
Opening the front door I walk inside making sure the door closes behind me before I place down the bag in the living room.
Glancing at the clock I notice I have a bit more time before Alastor said he’d be home. I decided to relax with the extra time I have by reading a book.
I unpack the gifts and set them on our bed for Alastor to walk into as a surprise when he gets home. I grab the book off of my nightstand and head back into the living room, sitting down and starting to read.
A few hours pass and I get through most of my booth until the phone starts to ring. Closing my book, I place it on the table next to me and walk over to the phone.
I picked it up and said a small “Hello?” waiting to see who is on the other end of the line.
“Hello my darling, I just wanted to give you a quick call to let you know that my day is taking longer than expected.” He pauses to sigh as I lean against the wall. “I’m sorry, I had so many plans for us today and it’s just not seeming to work out.”
I put a smile on my face hoping I can convince him I’m not disappointed we probably won’t be doing anything tonight.
“It’s alright Al, I promise. Don’t stress yourself out over this. Well just do something tomorrow.” I can hear him sigh again, clearly disappointed he has to stay late.
“Are you sure?” he asks, “You’re not disappointed?” I feel my heart melt a little at how much he cares. “Not at all,” I reply, trying to convince him.
Alastor pauses and sighs again. “I really wanted to do something special for you today. I wanted today to be special and romantic…”
“I know, I know. But it’s okay. We’ll do something extra special tomorrow alright?” I say trying to make him relax a bit.
He sighs again, but this time he sounds slightly more relieved when I assure him that I’m not disappointed. “Alright,” he says, “You’re right. Tomorrow, definitely. I love you.”
I smile. “I love you too Al. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up after and head back to where I was sitting in the living room.
Sitting back down I decide to go back to reading my book. A few hours pass, and as the afternoon begins to roll around.
Looking out the window an idea pops into my head causing me to grin. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” I say to myself as I get up and head into the kitchen.
I grab a small basket and start putting together a small dinner. After finishing making the simple meal I pack up the basket with the food, a bottle of wine, and some plates and utensils.
The dinner looks lovely, quite a romantic gesture that he is sure to appreciate. Deciding to bring a small romantic dinner to Alastor at the radio station was a brilliant idea on my part I think as I take one last look around to make sure I’m not forgetting anything before I head out.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
Upon arriving at the station a few of Alastor’s coworkers greeted me and some even engaged in some small talk.
After getting past the lobby and some of the offices I start making my way to where Alastor’s studio and office is. I take a peek through the window connected to his office and see he’s not live right now. Taking the opportunity I opened the door.
He jumps in his chair, quickly turning to me with a surprised look on his face. Seeing me standing there with a basket filled with a romantic dinner causes that surprise to quickly turn into a big smile.
He stands up to come over to greet me, kissing me on the cheek as he wraps his arm around my waist.
“You didn’t have to come all the way here to bring me dinner darling.” He rubs small circles on my waist with the hand wrapped around me as I smile up at him.
“I know but I felt bad that you had to cancel our plans due to working late so I wanted to bring the dinner plans to you.” I grin at him as I lean into his touch a bit more.
He stares at me with utter adoration as he speaks up. “Happy Valentine’s Day my darling. I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise today.” He says pulling me in closer to him as he kisses my lips quickly.
I smile during the kiss and it grows wider as we part. “Oh trust me this isn’t the only surprise.” He raises an eyebrow at me causing me to laugh. “I got you a few more gifts. You’ll have to wait to see what they are until we get home though.”
Alastor’s face lights up when you give him that hint. “This day just keeps getting better and better.” He says excitedly. He gives me another kiss on the lips, but this time it lasts longer.
“I guess being on the air today was worth it then.” Alastor replies as I start to laugh again.
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hauntedhowlett-writes · 6 months
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the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun
pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 6.5k
summary:
Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.
A Twister (1996) AU
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author’s note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!
amazing title art by @atinylittlepain
tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of reader’s parent’s deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.
masterlists: all characters | joel miller
support for palestine
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The first person to notice Joel’s truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. “Had no idea you were comin’ out here.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. “But I can’t get her to sign ‘em unless I track her down myself.”
The expression on Tommy’s face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. “She’s around here somewhere.”
“Probably hiding from you,” another voice chimes. Tommy’s wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. “Welcome back, Joel.”
“I ain’t back,” he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. “How’re you, Maria?”
“Sweaty,” she replies. “Heard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.”
Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.
“The prodigal son returns!” Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time he’s seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same. 
He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike. 
“Joel,” you say, a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wasn’t expecting you out here.”
“You won’t answer any of my calls,” he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. “Have you looked at the papers?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there a reason you haven’t signed them?”
“Been a bit busy,” you say, gesturing to the camp. “I got something you’ll want to see.”
You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.
“She’s here, Joel,” you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. “ELLIE.”
“No shit?” Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. “I’ll be damned. You really did it.”
“We did it,” you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that he’s grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.
“We’ve got action!” Tess yells. 
The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isn’t fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.
He’s so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still haven’t signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.
“You comin’ with, brother?” Tommy’s voice crackles over his truck radio. 
“She didn’t sign!” Joel says back. 
“Keep lying to yourself, Joel!” Maria calls back. 
It’s a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.
“Son of a bitch,” he snaps. He grabs the radio. “We got company!”
The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joel’s in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRA’s corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said. 
“What’s Marlene doin’ here?” Joel asks. 
“Bet she’s wondering the same thing about you!” You chime in.
The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.
“Fuck!” He shouts. His tire has gone flat.
This is the last thing he needs.
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You watch Joel through the window of the little diner you’ve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. He’s across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.
“Hey,” Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. “Weird. It feels weird.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s in a suit.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“He looks good.”
“Sure, if you like ‘em with a stick up their—“
“What’s channel four doing here?” You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, who’s gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your life’s work sitting in the bed of your truck. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you snap, racing for the door. 
“This is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. It’s built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,” Marlene says proudly. “Inside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.”
“Hey!” Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
“Cut!” The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.
“You really think you can get away with rippin’ off our idea?” Joel snaps. 
“I only took your idea and made it a reality,” Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. “Face it, Joel. Your team doesn’t have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.” She laughs. “Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. ELLIE isn’t just a dream anymore. We’ve got her here.”
Marlene’s smile falters. “Is that so?”
“Yep,” Joel says. “And she’s going to be the first in the air.”
“We’ll see about that, Joel.” She steps back, addressing her crew. “Pack it up. Let’s hit the road.”
You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When they’ve disappeared from sight, you give Joel’s shoulder a tentative pat. 
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you tell him. “Hopefully you’re right.”
The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. “But we got another development on the radar.”
“Alright, let’s get her,” you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. “You just gonna stand there, or are you coming?”
“You still haven’t signed the papers!” He shouts back.
“I can sign them in the truck!”
He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driver’s door. “I’m drivin’,” he says.
“No,” you argue. “This is my truck.”
“You think I forgot how to drive this thing?”
“I think you’re out of practice!”
“You’re wastin’ time, just get in the fuckin’ truck,” he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.
Some things never really change.
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“You have to get ahead of it!” You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.
“I know!” He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. “I can’t fuckin’ see anythin’!”
“Just cut across the field!”
“I can get us further ahead on the road!”
“We’re going to get stuck alongside it!”
“Do you want to drive?!” 
“I’d love to!”
Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.
“What are you doing?!”
Marlene’s team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joel’s attention remains fixed on the tornado. “It’s goin’ to shift its path.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, squinting. 
“Look at it, it’s a sidewinder. It’s headin’ left,” he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road. 
“There it goes!” You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. “Alright, tell us what you’ve got, Maria.”
“F2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,” she says, voice crackling over the speaker. “You guys have a shot but you’re going to be cutting it real close.”
You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination he’s always admired, even loved, and he knows he can’t say no. Not to you.
“Let’s get it.”
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“We’re running out of time,” you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. “We’re not going to make it.” 
“We will,” he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and you’re out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop. 
The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. You’re removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.
“We have to get it on the ground!” You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.
Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. “We have to get out of here!”
“But ELLIE—“
“Now!” He shouts. 
A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch. 
“Get up,” Joel urges, helping you to your feet. “We gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!”
Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joel’s jacket tightly. 
You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake. 
Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joel’s chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.
“You okay?” Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. “Good. That’s…good.”
“Hey! You’re alive!” You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. “Tommy owes me twenty bucks!”
“He should know better than to bet against me,” Joel says. His attention returns to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didn’t deploy.
“Fuck,” you curse. “All of that and it didn’t even open.”
“There’s always next time,” Tess assures you.
“You know…we could all use a shower….and a meal,” Tommy says. You shoot him a look.
“No.”
“Come on,” he needles. “You’re covered in mud. We’ll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.”
“I said no.”
“We haven’t had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,” Maria adds.
“You must really want a hot a meal if you’re willing to face Uncle Bill.”
“That a yes?” Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.
“Fine,” you sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
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Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesn’t take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn that’s become more for show than for function in your Uncle Bill’s older age. 
When the van pulls up to the house, Bill’s husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.
The front door opens, Bill’s large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state you’re in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He won’t go so far as to say he’s hiding, but it’s a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.
“Joel,” he says, crossing his arms.
“Uncle Bill,” Joel replies.
“Just Bill is fine.”
Joel clears his throat, avoiding the man’s gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension. 
“I’m going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,” you tell Bill.
“Who said I was feeding you?” 
“Frank did.”
“Sorry, honey!” Frank yells from the kitchen. 
Joel escapes Bill’s attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted. 
“Didn’t expect to see you back,” Frank comments, tone light. 
“Didn’t expect to be back,” Joel replies. 
“What brings you here, then?”
“Got tired of waitin’ on her to sign the divorce papers.”
Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.
“It’s a real shame,” he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. “You two were really good together.”
Joel doesn’t reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you. 
It’s what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasn’t as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.
“Shower’s free,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud. 
“My turn,” Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesn’t say anything about his silence and swift exit.
Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.
He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.
He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.
There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.
You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. You’ve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.
“Hey,” he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.
“Hey.”
You shift your weight until you’re lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. You’re both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood. 
“When will it be enough?” Joel finally asks. You sigh.
“Not this again,” you complain. 
“What is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?”
“Retirement doesn’t scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but that’s not what I want. It’s never been what I want.” You take a deep breath. “So stop acting surprised that I won’t change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if that’s something that you can’t love about me—“
“It ain’t about not lovin’ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,” he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. “But I can’t ever be enough for you.”
Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m gettin’ older, I’m not as good at this gig as I used to be.”
“That’s why you left? Because you think you’re…what? Holding us back?”
“Wasn’t I?”
“No! You big fucking idiot,” you snap. “I can’t believe this.” You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasn’t faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. “You will always have a place with us. With me.”
Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.
You come to him easily, your lips finding his.
It feels like coming home.
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Joel’s mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul. 
He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is. 
Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots — just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots he’s left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans. 
Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.
“Still so sensitive,” he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. “Quit it. Be a good girl or you won’t get your reward.”
“Yes, sir,” you murmur. 
“That’s it, knew you could be good for me.” He squeezes your breast in one large hand. “Just needed the right motivation.”
He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. “Somethin’ you want? Somethin’ you need?”
“You,” you mumble.
“Louder.”
“You, Joel.”
He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat. 
The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until you’re squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit. 
He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you don’t tip over before he’s ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.
“Joel,” you cry, his name a plea. “Are you going to let me come?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. “But not yet.”
“Fuck!” You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body.  His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. It’s too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.
He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.
“Missed this,” Joel murmurs, watching you intently. “Missed you.”
“Missed you,” you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until you’re cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. “Missed this, too.”
He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when he’s coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.
Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.
“Joel,” you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. “Joel.”
“I know,” he says. “God, I know.”
When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body. 
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” Joel groans. “Can you come for me, baby? One more time?”
“Mhm,” you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like you’ve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.
Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, it’s with a smile on his face.
“That was—“
“Yeah,” you agree. “See? You still got it, old man.”
“Nevermind, I still want a divorce.”
You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.
A sense of home.
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The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joel’s lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. You’re smiling and he swears he’s never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.
When you break apart, you whisper that you’re going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you he’s going to clean up the mess to avoid Bill’s wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water that’s pooled in the hallway.
As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.
Joel smiles back.
For now, it’s their little secret.
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The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but it’ll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldn’t deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members aren’t looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.
When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill that’s a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by. 
“Alright, let’s head out,” Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. “Radar’s got something forming about twenty miles north of here.”
“What kind of something?” You ask.
“A big something.”
Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink. 
“Let’s go get ELLIE into the air.”
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The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. There’s a certain liminality when you’re driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you. 
“You okay?” Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. “Not gettin’ cold feet, are you?”
“About this?” You nod towards the sky. “Never.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Guys? You won’t believe this,” Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.
“What is it?” You ask.
“There’s two cells. Radar maxed out.” 
“They’re funneling back,” Tess adds. “This isn’t looking good.”
“You saying we can’t do it?” You ask.
The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, “If anyone can, it’s you two.”
“What are we up against?” Joel asks.
“Cell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,” Maria continues.
“Joel.” You tap his arm. “Look.”
A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. It’s only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in. 
“What’s the trajectory of this?” He asks.
“Northeast.”
It’s heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE — Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.
“Let’s get her down!” Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.
Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cyclone’s path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.
“This is it!” Tess shouts through the radio. 
You grab Joel’s hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.
“It’s too light,” you murmur. 
“No it’s not,” Joel says confidently. 
Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesn’t lift from the ground. You’re biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.
“We’ve got a shift!” Maria says. “We’ve got a shift, due north. Due north.”
“Fuck!” Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.
“Guess who just showed up?” Tommy adds.
Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone. 
“What channel are they using?” You ask. There’s a brief silence until Tess calls back, “Six. Why?”
You switch the channel. “Marlene, you have to anchor the unit.”
“I’m a little busy right now,” she calls back. “Trying to make history over here.”
“Listen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, it’s not going to get picked up. And if it doesn’t pick up, it doesn’t deploy.”
“Maybe that’s just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.”
“Goddamnit,” you snap, tossing the transmitter down. 
“Can’t fix stupid,” Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. “Let’s load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.”
Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest. 
“Do you see what I see?” You ask.
Joel watches the twister, then Marlene’s team. He grabs the radio. 
“Marlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, you’re in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.”
“Radar isn’t showing a shift. I’m not missing this chance,” Marlene replies.
“You gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. You’re goin’ to get yourself killed!”
“Clear this channel, Joel. I’ve got work to do.”
“Fuck!” Joel snaps. 
Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. 
“I know,” he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. “We did what we could.”
Joel switches the radio back to your team’s channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Maria’s voice snaps your name.
“Do you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.”
“Copy that,” you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. “What’s it looking like?”
“Too soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.”
Joel drives parallel to Maria’s path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. It’s one of the biggest you’ve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.
“Wind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. We’ve found ourselves an F5,,” Maria says. “She’s slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.”
Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it. 
“ELLIE needs an anchor,” you remind him.
“I know,” he says, looking over at you. “I’m giving her one.”
“We’re using the truck?”
“You got a better idea?”
“No, no, go ahead. Can’t wait to explain this one to insurance.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. “We’re sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.”
“Roger that,” Tess replies. “Ready for the feed.”
Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.
“One,” Joel shouts. “Two!”
“Three!” You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When you’ve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.
He’s kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.
“Go, go, go!” He shouts. 
The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Maria’s eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.
Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.
“I’m getting a read!” Maria shouts. “She’s up! ELLIE is flying!”
“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Joel, we did it.”
“You did it, baby,” he says. 
The twister doesn’t last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you don’t care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.
“You owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!” Tess shouts.
Joel pulls away with a laugh. “What did I tell you about bettin’ against me?”
“Does this mean you’re back?” Maria asks.
The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I’m back.”
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@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!
"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"
Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.
"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"
Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."
Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.
"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."
"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.
(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)
Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.
Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."
Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.
Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.
The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."
Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."
Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.
"Steve."
Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.
"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."
The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"
"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."
"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"
"Steve."
Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.
xxxxxxxx
Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.
God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.
After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.
He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.
Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.
Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.
"Da-dee!"
Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.
"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"
"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."
Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.
He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.
"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"
A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.
"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"
Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."
Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.
"Da! Da!"
Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.
Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.
"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.
Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.
"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.
Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.
Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.
"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.
Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.
"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."
He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.
When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.
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sideeve · 10 months
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ㅤ ㅤ ㅤPRAY YOU CATCH ME
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lulu's notes ! ; i am so srry for being inactive. i have no excuse tbh. but have this! based off of beyonce's pray you catch me
ingredients :: angst, cheating, mike having dreams abt cheating, breaking up, vanessa being that girl
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"i'm going to go find some blankets." vanessa stands up, walking away to retrieve blankets for abby's fort. mike's eyes focused on vanessa's backside as she walked away, hips swaying to a non-existent beat.
"i'm going to use the restroom." mike leaves you no room to comment before he runs away, heading away from the bathroom. you watch him with furrowed brows, trying to understand why mike was so weird recently.
since he had picked up a job at the pizzeria, the state of your relationship was declining. mike had barely made eye contact with you, he didn't notice your presence at all. whenever you did talk, it was all about vanessa.
vanessa this. vanessa that.
you couldn't remember the last time mike had been so passionate about something. let alone someone.
it might have been your paranoia but mike was taking a long time to be only using the restroom. "abby, how long ago did vanessa go get the blankets?" you interrupt abby and bonnie's play session. she shrugs, "i don't know. she's been taking too long."
you pout, thinking of the next course of action for you to do. trust mike and pray he's being faithful or investigate and bust his ass.
your gut was screaming at you to stand up and find out what was taking you so long. your body felt weak with each step to took, getting closer to the storage room.
"your girlfriend is right outside this room and you decided to make a move on me?!" through the closed door, you could hear vanessa's upset voice. your stomach sank. you fucking knew it. mike was a liar.
"look, i'm sorry. i-i don't know what came over me." mike stammered as he tried to de-escalate his current situation. "just don't say anything."
and he was a pussy?! you really do know how to pick them.
you humorlessly chuckle to yourself. all these times you called yourself crazy for suspecting he was a cheater. all the times you tried to push those feelings deep down in your stomach. it was all useless.
you heard them shuffling towards the door. in a panic, you rush back to abby's fort, painting yourself happy as if you hadn't just heard them arguing. "hey, baby." mike slides beside you, kissing your cheek. you force yourself to not cringe and let him kiss you.
walking behind him was a pissed vanessa. the both of you meet eyes, telepathically sending each other the same message. mike follows your line of sight, panicking as he thought vanessa was about to speak. "uh abby! it's past your bedtime isn't it?" he nervously chuckles, looking for a safe way to get the three of you to go home.
"but mike!" abby whines. "nope! you have school in the morning." mike stands up to scoop abby in his arms. gesturing his head to tell you to get up.
abby was asleep in the back of mike's car as he drove you three of you home. you looked out the window, watching the tree pass by in a dark night. the pregnant silence was making mike nervous. the only source of sound was abby's light snores and the radio which was playing a station mike despises. "did you have fun?" mike breaks the silence.
you hum in response. you knew if you spoke, you would've woken up abby due to your yelling. "you-you look pretty."
mike only stuttered around you if he was hiding something. "did you have fun, mike?" your eyes were still on the window. "yeah. i loved making the fort with you and abby."
"nothing else?"
"just you two." he smiles.
his dishonesty was on his breath; you could taste it in the air. and he passed it on so casually. every word he let out was a lie. it was like being truthful wasn't in his code.
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vanessa giggles as she straddles mike's hips, his hands softly gripping her hips. "are you sure she doesn't suspect us?" she whispers on his lips before closing the gap between the two of them. "she doesn't suspect a thing." he bites her lip teasingly.
this is how it was supposed to go. mike wanted to be this close with vanessa--this intimate. it felt right for him.
lips still attached to each other, mike sees you standing there, watching this unravel. "[name]!" mike quickly pushes vanessa off of him. as he scrambles to find the right words, he takes note of your face. you were upset but you were softly smiling. you took the opportunity to speak before him.
"what are you doing, my love?"
mike gasps awake, his chest heaving. "fuck." he groans, rubbing his forehead. on instinct, he rolls over to your side, hugging your body. except...you weren't there. matter of fact, none of your things were there. the slippers you left at the side of the bed. your favorite perfume you used to leave on his dresser. none of it.
"no, no." mike scrambles out of his bed, running outside to see if your car was still parked in his driveway. in defeat, he sulks back into his house. it felt so empty without you. you were what brought the house together. you made lively.
he was now facing the consequences of not cherishing what was in front of him--what he needed.
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reputationmunson · 1 year
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Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader
part one | part two | part 3 | part 4
series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating
chapter summary: time to meet the family!
content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)
word count: 4.7k
_
The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.
“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”
“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”
“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”
“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”
“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”
“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”
“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.
_
Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.
“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.
“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.
You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”
“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”
“That’s such a butthead response”
“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”
“Fine”
So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.
_
The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.
“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”
“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”
Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”
“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”
“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”
He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.
Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”
He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”
“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).
“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”
After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”
“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”
“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”
“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”
“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?
“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”
“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.
“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.
“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.
“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”
“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”
“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.
After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”
“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.
“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.
“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”
“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”
“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.
“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.
“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”
“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”
“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”
“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”
“You’re impossible”
“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”
“Gladly”
_
By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.
It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.
There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.
The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.
“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”
“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”
“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”
“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”
“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”
_
You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.
“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.
“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.
Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”
He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.
“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”
“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.
Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”
“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”
“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”
“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.
“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.
“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.
It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”
“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”
“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.
The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.
“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”
“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”
“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”
The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.
_
You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.
“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.
You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.
“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.
“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.
“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.
“Are you married to Steve?”
“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”
Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.
Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.
“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”
“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.
“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.
“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”
“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.
Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”
“Hm?”
“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”
“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”
“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.
“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.
You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”
His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.
“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.
He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.
“Goodnight, y/n”
“y-yeah, goodnight”
_
a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE
_
taglist: @freezaz123 @lovelyimpossibleobservation @johnricharddeacy @mjtalksaboutanything @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus (i hope i didn't miss anyone!)
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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year
Text
Beg Me
Fandom: Station 19
Pairing: Maya Bishop x female!reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 4.8k+
Summary: Maya fucked up and let her anger get the best of her. Now you two were broken up and you seemed to be moving on just fine. Only, that’s what you wanted her to think. In reality, Maya was seething with jealousy and you were just pushing her buttons until she finally made things right.
Warnings: jealous!Maya; unhealthy relationship dynamics; possessive!Maya; strap-ons (r receiving); light choking; mutual orgasms; top!Maya, bottom!r; rough sex; name calling; dumbification; breeding kink if you squint; semi-public sex; I probably forgot something…
A/N: as you can see I have a new angry blonde woman to obsess over. Anyways have some shameless smut on this fine Friday afternoon.
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Maya wasn’t sad, she wasn’t heartbroken. No, she was pissed. Only a couple months had gone by and you were already seen spending time with some unknown girl. Maya knew all your friends, she didn’t know this one. So, she felt it was a fair assumption to say the intentions between you two were all but platonic.
Maya wasn’t even sure how you and her broke up. It was a screaming match that she started. Unfortunately, she knew that part all too well. Words were said on both sides. Hurtful words; the kind that doesn’t just get forgotten when the fight eventually ends. Except, this fight didn’t really end at all. To be fair, you tried to settle the fight. You had asked for space and wanted to get out of the apartment before either of you said anymore that you’d regret. 
But then when you said you were leaving for the night, Maya said not to bother coming back. She wasn’t done with this fight and the heat of the moment got the better of her. Those words flew from her mouth before she could even process them. No way in hell did she mean them.They were only said as a means to hurt you. To make matters worse though, was the furious look you threw back at her and the simple “fine then” you muttered as you slammed the door. 
And then you actually didn’t come back. Maya thought you understood that it was said in anger. She didn’t think you’d take it so seriously. There was no doubt in her mind that you’d come back a couple weeks later. But a couple weeks turned into a couple months and she was starting to sweat. 
Lucky for you, the relationship was fairly new when it ended. You still had your own apartment and barely anything at Maya’s place. New didn’t mean it wasn’t serious though. Very early into the relationship, Maya blurted out that she loved you in the fit of a jealous rage when she thought someone was coming onto you. That should’ve been the first red flag: you two were fighting even when declaring your love for each other. 
After the night she told you not to come back, you were so utterly offended that you did exactly that. There would need to be a serious apology from Maya before you even thought about taking her back. Since she was the one to start the fight and escalate it the way she did, you decided it was her responsibility to reach out first. Deep down, you knew she didn’t really mean it, but you weren’t going to bet all your money on it until she admitted that she didn’t. 
Maya could be so fucking stubborn. When weeks went by with radio silence from Maya, you were about to give up. The sting of knowing your relationship was over so soon was there, but even bigger was the frustration that Maya so willingly tossed aside something that could’ve been good. Was all your fighting healthy? No, probably not, but it’s kind of how Maya functions. You were starting to learn that quickly and slowly trying to help her unlearn it. But in the typical Maya fashion you were semi-warned about, she pushed until she took it too far. 
When you started to give up, you also started to meet people. Nothing serious, most women you met didn’t make it past one coffee date. But then there was one girl who was… persistent. It was like she was smitten with you after a few text conversations and two casual dates. You didn’t feel the same, unfortunately. Maya was still very much on your mind and you weren’t over her at all. Giving up on your hopes that she would come to her senses was one thing, learning to unlove her was another. 
Though, this girl wasn’t the worst company. You tried to keep it friendly, realizing quickly she was way more into you than you were into her. She agreed to accept that, but you assumed she had the hopes that your mind would change. Honestly, you hoped for that too. 
She was attractive. You couldn’t lie that you thought that. Did you want to touch her? No, not when the only thoughts of being intimate with someone still led your brain to think back to all the times Maya touched you. But, she was still someone you could see yourself being open about it with. If you ever got over Maya, that is. 
This girl wasn’t as attractive as Maya though. She didn’t have the smug smile that you loved so much, or the flexing arm muscles that you fixated on, or the cocky attitude that you couldn’t help but love. All you could do was compare her to Maya. It wasn’t all downsides in your mind, though. She was more patient than Maya, more gentle and kind too. It was a breath of fresh air compared to how possessive and quick to anger Maya could get. 
But still that didn’t stop you from wanting Maya. God, how you wanted her. When you two were together, the way she made love to you made you feel like your entire being belonged to her. You missed that so much. There were times, when you remembered the way she touched you, that your resolve almost broke. 
A few times you went out for drinks with friends, you’d see Maya at the bar too. Joe’s was her go to and you purposely picked it so she’d see you and be reminded of what she was missing. Maya usually avoided eye contact with you then, but when you started going to the bar with just one girl instead of your regular group of friends, that’s when it changed. It was after your dates with her and after you asked to just be friends. When you went to the bar with her, it really wasn’t meant to be a date or even look like one. It was also supposed to be just one time, but then that one time turned into more when you discovered you could get a reaction out of Maya. 
The girl would often stand too close to you. She’d touch your arm and buy you drinks, despite your agreement to remain platonic. That first time, Maya passed you by in the bar and finally met your eyes. The fire you saw inside them nearly made you gasp. She seems furious. Even better, though, was that she also seemed extremely jealous. 
After that, you made it a regular thing to grab drinks with this girl. The more she saw you with one specific person, the angrier she appeared and the more triumphant you felt. Only problem was, seeing her like this was threatening to break your own promise to yourself. 
As fucked up as it sounded, it was turning you on. All you wanted was for her to grab you and fuck you in the bar’s bathroom. But that was a dangerous desire to have, so you tried to ignore it and made another promise with yourself: No being alone with Maya until she seemed willing to apologize. If she did actually act on her jealousy and anger and got you alone, then you’d be losing this battle. Not only did you make the “no alone with Maya” rule, but you also limited your visits to the bar with the other girl eventually. Time was stretching on with no apology, and you were losing hope in Maya. This couldn’t be healthy for you, so you decided this little game needed to end and distance would be a good thing.
What you really didn’t need was to be stuck locked in Station 19 with Maya. Of course, that’s exactly what happened when a snowstorm blew out your apartment’s power and even the backup generators too. You and a handful of your other neighbors, plus others in different apartment complexes with similar situations, were then forced to seek shelter and warmth in Maya’s station. It was the closest, after all. 
You weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that the girl you were definitely not dating but spending regular time with was also stuck there. She at least would serve as a barrier between you and Maya. Or so you hoped.
As time ticked by you were getting more and more frustrated and on edge. Maya’s eyes were always on you from the moment she realized you were trapped in the station with her. There weren't enough places to hide from her either. If you left one room for another room, a few minutes later she’d follow. 
It impressed you how neutral Maya seemed, though. What you didn’t know was Maya was seething on the inside, but she had to stay professional. She was captain after all and there were so many other people around. It would not be a good look for her career if she suddenly blew up at you and your new little girlfriend in the middle of the station. 
But she couldn’t stop thinking about the audacity this girl had in touching you so freely. Your hands, your waist, your arms. She was fawning all over you and it made Maya rage. It would be way easier if she just stopped watching you. She could hide in her office and it would fix everything. 
Except, she wasn’t about to take her eyes off the two of you. What would happen if she wasn’t watching? This girl might sneak off with you and do god knows what. Maya couldn’t have that. She wouldn’t. So, Maya kept watch over the two of you and took a small victory in knowing the way her gaze made you visibly uncomfortable.
Even then, as the hours ticked by, this girl was getting much closer. Maya was seeing red at this point. The thin string that was holding her together was about to snap and she wasn’t sure what she would do when it did. She kept trying to tell herself that professionalism was important, but then that fucking girl was whispering in your ear and Maya could’ve sworn you were blushing and then that thin string in side her just snapped. Maya slammed her hands on the desk next to her and caused everyone around to jump. Your eyes were on her now, eyebrows arched in a way that Maya took as your way to challenge her. It wasn’t, but Maya wasn’t exactly thinking rationally now. 
Maya wanted to yell at the person with you to get her damn hands off your body, but Maya waltzed right up to you and grabbed your arm instead. “I need to talk to you,” she said even though she was already hauling you away from everyone. She didn’t even bother to acknowledge the girl with you. Fuck that, Maya wasn’t going to give a shit about her reaction. 
You may have protested a little bit, but Maya didn’t seem to notice. She just kept dragging you through the station until you came to a door that said “off limits.” It was one of the private rooms Maya often slept in at the station during her long shifts. You’ve been in this room many times before. Often stealing moments in here with Maya when no one else was around. 
When she pulled you into the room, you heard the click of the lock. This really was not good. You two alone in a room together wasn’t going to end well. You had to stay strong. You had to keep yourself from falling into her arms. Not until you heard what you needed to hear.
She was rounding on you with such fury in her eyes that it caused you to take a step back. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Maya’s voice was not at all quiet as she took a step forward. 
You backed up and she still followed as she seethed. “She was all over you,” Maya snapped. “Practically fucking groping you in my station.” 
“Maya—“ you were cut off before you could even go anywhere with that. 
“Don’t even start with excuses.��  Maya took a step forward again as you took another back. “I know we’re broken up, but I thought you’d wait at least a little longer before you started fucking someone else.” 
“I’m not fucking her,” you finally snapped back. “It’s not like that.” 
Maya scoffed at that. She wasn’t buying it for a second. “Well, if you haven’t fucked yet,” Maya took more steps into your space until you were forced to back right up against a wall, “then she certainly intends to soon. Probably tonight even, with how her hands were all over you.” 
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“Am I?” Maya was right in your face now. “What did she whisper in your ear, huh?”
“What? Maya— it wasn’t anything.” God, she was testing your patience. “Plus, it’s not any of your business.”
“It is my fucking business,” Maya hissed.
“It’s only your business if we were together, but you ended that.” You were taking low blows now. “Remember?”
This was really testing Maya too. On the one hand, you were absolutely right. On the other, she was still livid that you came into her station and let someone else have their hands on you. “I thought you would come back!”
“Maya, why would I?” Finally, she at least admitted that part of your suspicion. “You told me not to. If you want me to come back so badly then you are the one who has to fix it.”
Maya just stood there in front of you now. Her eyes showed her angry disbelief and you were about fed up with it. Even if it did turn you on just a little. 
“I’m going back out there,” you sighed in resignation, trying to take a few calming breaths. “She’s probably wondering what’s going on.” You tried to take a step and push past Maya, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist halted you. 
“I’m sorry,” Maya practically growled. Your eyes went wide at that. That was something you really weren’t expecting to come out of her mouth. Sure, her tone was… aggressive, but you knew that wasn’t ever easy for her to say. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I fucked up and I took forever to fix things.” 
Well, that was better than nothing, you thought. Maybe later, when this heated moment was over, you could pry a less hostile apology out of her. 
Maya wasn’t done though, still enraged about the evening and that she was having to swallow her pride. “But you owe me an apology for flaunting this girl in front of me. You owe me an apology for even looking for other people to fuck. I didn’t do that to you, I was waiting. I—“ 
“I told you it wasn’t like that.” You really weren’t hiding your frustration in your tone.
“Oh, sure,” Maya snorted.
“Jesus, Maya, it wasn’t,” you yelled. “How could I fuck someone else? How could I even want to when all I think about is you? Not once could I even stomach the thought of someone else touching me like you do. Do you know how hard it was to lay my eyes on you for even a second and not fall on my knees and beg you to fuck me?”
The look in Maya’s eyes shifted at your rant. You knew that look well, it was one that made you squirm where you stood. With pure hunger replacing the anger that was once in her eyes, her hand moved from your wrist to push hard against your shoulder until you were pressed against the wall again. 
She took another step and was right up against you. Before you could react to your back hitting the wall, Maya grabbed your chin and pulled your face towards her with her grip. 
“Then beg,” She said in a low voice. “Beg me.” 
“Maya, is this really the time—“ 
“I don’t give a fuck,” Maya hissed. “I know you want me to give you what you’ve been missing. I know if I slipped my hand into your panties, you’d be wet. Tell me I’m wrong.” 
She wasn’t wrong. Jealous Maya always had you wet. The way she had a hold of your chin and was a breath away from kissing you had quickly broken your resolve by now too. You gulped as Maya’s eyes shifted to your lips before flicking them back up. 
“I said,” Maya’s thumb traced your lips now, “beg for me.”
“Yes,” you practically whimpered. “Yes, Maya I want you. I want you to touch me. Fuck, I’ve missed it. Please– I don’t care anymore. Just fuck me.”
“That’s the good girl I’ve been missing.” Maya flashed you a devilish grin before she pulled your face even closer and smashed her lips into yours. The way she kissed you instantly made you melt. Her tongue pushed its way into your mouth before you could even begin to part your lips. You met hers with your own, both of you moaning into the kiss. 
Maya’s hands moved to your hair and tugged and pulled as she kissed you with a roughness that you knew would leave your lips a little bruised afterwards. You didn’t care though, not when her tongue was in your mouth and her body was grinding on you and pushing you harder against the wall. 
All too soon, Maya pulled away, moving her hand back to your shoulder where she kept you pressed still. “Making me jealous the way you have…” Maya trailed off as she took a few steps back. “You’re going to need to make it up to me.” 
You huffed, but didn’t protest. It was far too late for you to turn back now. Honestly, you had forgotten all about the fact that someone out there might wonder what you two are doing or why you’re gone. All you were focused on was Maya and the way she was looking at you. 
She craved you. It felt like if she didn’t get what she wanted from you tonight in this very instant, then she’d explode. The possessive part of Maya was also still raging, but not at you now. Just at the idea of someone else touching you, no matter how innocent that touch might seem. 
You were going to make it up to her, that she was sure to follow through with. The question was, how did she want you to do that? All she could think to do right now, was fuck you with everything she’s got. She wanted to see you spread open and falling apart underneath her. She wanted to hear you scream her name as she fucked you in a way that only she could. She wanted to make you cum so hard you’d see stars. 
There was only one way to do that. Lucky for Maya, because of how often you two snuck away to fool around in here, she was still prepared. 
“Strip for me while I get something,” Maya ordered before walking away from you and fishing for something under one of the beds. You gave her a skeptical look for a moment, but still did as you were told. Not yet fully unclothed, you heard Maya pop the buttons open to her uniform. Then as you continued to get undressed, you heard some rustling of clothes, and what you thought sounded like Maya struggling with her belt.
When you heard Maya move to one of the beds, you finally turned around. Your eyes immediately met hers as she sat on the mattress. You started to take her in slowly. She was wearing a tanktop now and you admired the way you could see the muscles of her abdomen through the way it clung to her. You shifted your gaze down after a moment and they fell between her legs. When you registered what exactly you were looking at, your eyes practically bugged out of your skull.
“Maya, why do you have that?” Right between her legs was a rather sizable strap on. Maya just looked at you unphased. 
“I’ve had it hidden in here for awhile,” she shrugged. “We just didn’t get the chance to use it… yet.” The “yet” felt very pointed, like she wanted you to know just how badly you had been missing out on all the things she had planned for you. “Now, come here.”
“But what if someone had found that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maya huffed, getting frustrated that you weren’t on her lap yet. “Just get on it.” 
“What if someone finds it after,” you hesitated again. 
“For fuck’s sake!” Maya groaned. “Just shut up and ride my fucking cock.”
As much as Maya’s habit to bark orders at you like you were one of the team pissed you off, you did exactly as you were told. The way she said that made it impossible for you not to. The frustration in her voice and her phrasing definitely made you more wet than you already were. It took you two seconds to reach her with how eager you were for what was to come. When you did, you slowly climbed on top of her until you could angle yourself over her strap. Slowly, your body sunk down onto it.
 As Maya watched it disappear inside your pussy, her breathing quickened and she let out a desperate, drawn out “fuckkkk” before her hands grabbed your hips. With just one roll of her body, you felt the head of her strap hit deep inside you couldn’t stop yourself from falling forward onto her. 
When she asked you to fuck yourself on her, you had every intention to obey, but then you actually took her cock in. Within an instant you were too wrapped up in actually fitting it inside your tight pussy that fucking yourself with it too felt impossible. Plus, Maya was way too impatient to wait for you to even adjust to its size before she started to fuck it up into you. 
She loved the way you bounced with each time she thrust up her hips and pumped her cock into you. It was intoxicating, hearing the moans that fell from your lips and watching your body tense as you took it for her. 
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Maya taunted as you finally began to move your hips with hers. “I can tell you missed this. Missed me fucking you like the little slut you are.” 
All you could do was whimper as you moved your body faster on top of Maya. You felt her arms flex around you, pulling you in tighter. Your body was draped over Maya as you rode her and the only thing keeping you sitting up was Maya’s strong embrace. 
“But you’re my little slut,” Maya purred into your ear. “You can deny it all you want, but we both know you’re only ever going to be mine.” 
You were speeding up now, desperately rocking your hips into her as fast as you possibly could. Maya met your desperation with just as much force as she kept fucking up into you. Both of you were panting and Maya felt like she could cum just from watching you rut your hips into her to get off. 
The way you could feel her muscles flex and tense as she practically used all her strength to keep your hips rocking was making your head swim. She was practically just using you as her toy at this point. You had long lost the rhythm you started out with and now she was just making you fuck yourself on top of her with the sheer strength of her hold on you.
You buried your face into her neck because it was all you could do to muffle your moaning. It seemed like it should be impossible, the speed she was setting for you, but she just kept it going. As your body shook and your teeth sunk into the skin of her neck you heard her moan your name before she twisted around and fell forward onto the mattress, taking you with her. 
When your back hit the bed, Maya made quick work to grab both your thighs and hoist them over your shoulders. She was pressing your own knees into your chest, the way she had you bent underneath her. 
“Fuck,” She groaned. “You take it so well, baby.” She was fucking you deeper than you honestly thought you could take. The way you could feel her cock hit the exact spot that made you lose your mind was making it harder and harder for you to stay at a reasonable volume. 
The thought that everyone in the station could possibly hear you right now as Maya continued to fuck you into the matttress crossed your mind in that moment. You tried your best to move your hand to cover your mouth, but the moment you tried, Maya’s hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. Her other hand came up to grab your free one as well. She slammed both your wrists back down onto the mattress, holding them tightly there as she kept rutting into you. 
“Let them hear,” she growled, knowing exactly what your concern was. “Then no one will question who this pussy belongs to.” 
“M— fuck, Maya,” you whined. Your eyes slammed shut and your head fell back. All you could do was lay, pinned to the bed, and let Maya keep pumping her strap into you. 
The sounds you were making were getting louder, but so were Maya’s. She was groaning and grunting on top of you, fucking her hips into you harder with each thrust. Your body was shaking and your fists clenched in Maya’s hold.  
The choice to wear this particular strap was intentional for Maya. It was the one that had the base that hit her clit just right. So with each thrust of her hips into yours and with each time your hips bucked and you tried to fuck yourself on her cock too, she felt it. She felt everything. Now, you were getting close and she could tell, but so was she. The idea of you making her cum while her strap was buried deep inside your pussy was driving her to be a little rougher with you; a little more aggressive. 
“You’re gonna cum when I tell you to,” Maya panted as her own orgasm approached. You didn’t react to that, too cock-drunk on her strap to comprehend much else. Maya didn’t slow, but one hand that had a grip of your wrist moved to your chin and jerked your head up. Her eyes met yours and the look she had in them was fierce. “Do you got that?” 
“M-mhm!” Maya’s hand squeezed your chin and you realized she wanted a real answer. “Yes— god— Yes, when you tell me to.” 
She was satisfied with that, but her hand didn’t let you go. Instead, it slipped down and her fingers wrapped around your throat. There was barely any pressure from her grip onto your neck, just the slightest bit of restriction to your airway. That action alone brought you right to that edge. You didn’t cum yet though; you wanted to be good. 
“Fuck, baby, look at you,” Maya moaned. “Gonna make me cum. Would you like that?” Her pace was becoming erratic as she approached her edge too. “Want me to cum with my strap inside you? Bet you do, you fucking love taking it. Fuck, fuck, fuck— cum now. Cum for me!” 
And when you did Maya did too. The way she moaned out your name as you cried out hers had your whole body trembling. She pumped her hips into you a few more times as her orgasm ran through her body. 
When you had finally come down from your high, she followed soon after. Her body collapsed on top of you and you felt her place soft kisses on your neck. 
“Fuckkkk,” She sighed. “That was something. I bet the whole building heard you cum.” 
“God,” you groaned, burying your head in the pillow. “Don’t say that.” 
“What?” Maya smirked. “Worried that girl might hear?” 
“Shut up,” you playfully shoved at her shoulder. 
“Well, if she didn’t…” Maya leaned up to whisper in your ear, “then maybe she’ll hear it this time.” Maya’s tone might have been teasing, but you knew she was only half joking. Waiting out this snowstorm would take god knows how long, but Maya planned on fucking you for the rest of it. 
And she made good on that plan.
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