#Texas Hammer Roofing

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

[eisforeidolon]

Question: One of my favorite things about Supernatural is the music, and I was curious if you guys remember your first concert experience, and who was it that you went and saw?

Jared: Yep, I remember - I don't remember which one was first, but I [???] I saw En Vogue open for Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer.

Jensen: [makes face, covers his eyes with his hand]

Jared: [rests his arm on Jensen's back] And not a word of a lie, my mom - I don't remember which was first. But for my birthday I really wanted to go to this other concert, so my mom took me. And I like begged and my birthday passed, couldn't get tickets. Christmas came, I got tickets or whatever. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Jensen: [shakes his head]

Jared: I'm not fucking kidding. It was TMNT, yeah. And I'm proud of that!

Jensen: [incredulous] En Vogue?

Jared: It was a triple header, it was En Vogue, Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer. All of that [???]. It was probably like 92 or -

Jensen: Were you too legit to quit?

Audience member: You're never gonna get it!

Jared: [makes comically amused face and points, claps]

Jensen: [makes 🤯 gesture] [sings] Never gonna get it, never gonna get it ... Um, right. Mine's not quite as embarrassing. My first concert, my mother took me with her sister my aunt - and I don't remember the story, I forget why I went and why like my brother and my sister - well, my sister wasn't quite born yet. But I don't know why my brother didn't go.

Jared: He was at Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with me.

Jensen: [laughs] Yeah, he was at En Vogue with you. But I was six years old and it was - it scared the crap out of me. It was at Texas Stadium and it was Michael Jackson Thriller Tour. [Jared jawdrops] My first concert ever. And I was terrified because all the lights were down and then these big monsters started coming out on stage [makes weird vague movements to imitate monsters] and then, I mean, it was like, oh my gosh, what's happening, the roar of the crowd - I'd never been in a crowd that big, and then he came out and he just blew the roof off the place. That's why it doesn't have a roof. Um, and then the first concert that I went to on my own volition was Van Halen with Sammy Hagar.

[sixhours]

Chapter 5 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

Joel is waiting on your porch holding a large toolbox when you jog up at ten past the hour.

“Sorry, I’m late, got held up.”

He glowers, rumbling in his deep Texas drawl. “I said five.”

“And I said I got held up,” you reply easily, bypassing him to unlock your front door. “The kitchen’s through here.”

He follows with an exaggerated hmph and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“There,” you say, pointing up at the kitchen ceiling, a spot just above the cabinets, running down the back wall. “I think there was a leak at some point. Pipes froze, maybe.”

He walks slowly up to the wall and splays a hand against the drywall, testing its solidity. “Bathroom’s upstairs?”

“Uh-huh. Right above this.”

“Sounds like you already know what the problem is,” he says over his shoulder. “Whaddya need me for?”

“I need to make sure the floor in the bathroom is sound. And…I was hoping you could help tear out the old insulation and re-insulate so the pipes don’t freeze again.”

He shakes his head. “I told you–”

“I know, the committee, but I’m sure I can get the insulation for trade, and if you have a few free hours–”

“I don’t.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, hard.

God, he will not make this easy.

“Okay. Fine. But can you at least look at the floor?”

He sighs, “Alright. Lead the way.” 

You show him up the narrow staircase and into your bathroom. At the far end, a clawfoot tub and shower take up most of one wall. There’s barely enough room for both of you, so you let him go first. Yellowed stains creep up the floral wallpaper behind the tub, rippling across the floor underneath.

“If you step right here, you’ll see what I mean,” you squeeze tentatively past Joel in the tight space, using your foot to push down on the painted hardwood between the tub and the toilet.

You reach out to pull him toward you by the arm, but he jerks away as if burned by your touch.

“I can get it. Get outta there.”

You slide back out, hands up in mock defense, letting him take your place. He frowns at the dip in the wood when his boot puts weight on it, then stands up, hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling.

“Is there an attic in this place? Should check–”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’ve been up there. Just a bunch of junk. No water damage.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re sure? ‘Cause if there’s rain gettin’ in, there’s no point in fixin’ the floor until the roof is sealed up.”

“I’m sure. So...you think it’s safe, or…?”

“Only one way to find out,” he says, reaching for the toolbox and retrieving a hammer. He drives the claw into the wood and meets little resistance, pulling up on the first board, which bends too readily, like a twig. You wince as he goes back for more, ripping out three, four, five of the narrow oak planks like they were nothing. The subfloor underneath gives way just as easily. 

“Yeah, that’s all rot,” he says, digging into the hole he’s made, shining a flashlight into the gap between the floor and the kitchen ceiling. “You’ve got a joist here to support the tub…but it’s half gone.

“You’ll have to take out the wall on this side,” he stands up with a muffled grunt, the sound of a man with sore knees. “Plumbing’s on this wall, prob’ly leaked down from here.”

“Well…shit. I hoped it wasn’t that bad,” you lie.

“Look, if it were me, I’d ask to be reassigned,” Joel says, tucking the hammer back in the toolbox. “No shortage of houses around here.”

“I know. I’ve just…I’ve grown attached to this place,” you say, letting your voice waver. Even better if he thinks you’re crying. “It’s the first time I’ve had a…a real home in a long time, y’know? ”

You expect him to roll his eyes at this overplayed sentimentality, but he doesn’t, just considers you with that unreadable expression. You drive the point home with a shaky, hiccupy little breath.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I can do the work. It’s not gonna be pretty, drywall don’t hold up and we don’t have much. I need time to get the supplies, but–”

“Thank you!” you burst in before he can finish. “I mean, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” You squeeze his arm, and this time he doesn’t pull away, only flinches.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go usin’ that bath,” he nods toward the tub. “And I wouldn’t use the kitchen until we get the joist replaced.”

“It’s fine. I can shower at the clinic, and I’m no cook.” He scowls as though you’ve given too much information, but you press on. “How can I repay you? Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t drink,” he says. He’s already picked up the toolbox and is headed for the stairs.

“Well…think about it,” you tell him. “I owe you one.”

“Right.”

~*~

You thought cornering Joel into helping with your house would give you time to work your way into his good graces, but he doesn’t make it easy. When he’s not on patrol, he’s working on community projects, leaving only a handful of free evenings to focus on your house. You always seem to be working at the clinic during those times, and part of you wonders if that’s his intent.

In the meantime, you try to get information about Ellie through subtle questions of the community. You learn her schedule, and you know who she hangs out with, and where she volunteers, but no one seems to know anything about her past.

Over the next few weeks, you come home to find your kitchen walls stripped to the studs, a steel support post holding up the clean half of the rotted floor joist. The bathroom closed off with a tarp, a note stuck to the blue vinyl.

Mold. Stay out.

He’s left an old plastic joint compound bucket on the floor, the implication clear.

What a gentleman.

He always sweeps up, wipes down the dust, and stacks his salvaged supplies and tools out of the way before he leaves. He takes out the rotted innards of your bathroom in fat black contractor bags.

You occasionally cross paths with him as he’s packing up to go, and each time you try to engage him in conversation, he answers in monosyllabic grunts and makes a wide arc around you to get to the door. Too many evenings like this and you realize you need to step it up, or the project will be finished before you’ve had a chance to learn his middle name. So on a particularly slow night, you feign a headache and leave the clinic in Shiela’s capable hands.

The whine of a saw echoes down the hall as you close your front door. You hear Joel’s low voice talking from the kitchen and you move toward the sound, keeping your steps quiet, feeling like an intruder in your own house. Through the doorway, you’re surprised to see Ellie at his side, both of them crouched over something behind the kitchen island.

“You keep your fingers clear, hand on the grip; no, not like that. It’s not a pistol. Here,” he reaches over and adjusts her grip on the drill. “This is forward. This is reverse.”

“Righty tighty, lefty loosey,” Ellie says. “I got it, I got it.”

Joel grunts. “You want a ninety-degree angle or the screw’ll get stripped. Put some muscle into it–”

There’s a mechanical whirr as the drill springs to life, the grinding of metal on metal. Then from Ellie, “Ah, shit.”

“It happens, try again,” Joel says. His voice is soft, and patient, lacking his usual gruffness.

“Hey–”

The pair startles, standing and wheeling around. You recognize the soft snick of a switchblade opening at Ellie’s side.

“Whoa, sorry,” you say. “It’s just me, I got the night off, I thought maybe you could use a hand–”

“We’re good,” Joel snaps.

“Yeah, I see you’ve got it covered,” you say, turning to the girl. “Hey, Ellie. How’s it going?”

“It’s fine,” Ellie says, shrugs. “I read those comics. They were pretty good. Maybe not as good as Savage Starlight , but still…pretty good, yeah.”

She’s wearing a purple t-shirt and her sweatshirt is piled with Joel’s jacket on the kitchen island. You step forward into the room, eyeing her exposed, scarred arm.

“So…what’s the damage?” you ask, turning to Joel.

He runs a hand through his messy hair, looking up to the ceiling, where the drywall has been torn out to expose the underside of the bathroom subfloor.

“There was mold in the bathroom drywall and the floor’s rotted out about five feet from the wall. The joist’s gonna need to be replaced, but that’s a two-man job. I might be able to talk Tommy into helpin’, but he’s got a new kid so...” He trails off as if he’s offered too much personal information, wiping his hands on a rag before tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“This should hold her ‘til we can get a crew in here to replace the joist. But no baths, I don’t trust this thing with that kinda weight,” he says, gesturing to the temporary support.

“You calling me fat?”

“What?” For a moment Joel looks panicked, then he rolls his eyes. “I mean a tub that size weighs a shit-ton and you fill it with fifty gallons of water, you got yourself a problem. It’s a miracle the damned thing hasn’t already fallen through.”

He continues to detail the project status, but your attention drifts back to Ellie, who’s playing with the cordless drill, holding it out in front of her like a gun. This puts her arm on full display, and now you’re close enough to see the snaking, vining cordyceps blisters under the skin, the imprint of someone’s dental work in the flesh.

“I won’t have the insulation ‘til next week, Tommy says there’s some extra up in the rec center but god knows what condition it's in. Salvage runs don’t usually turn up anything worth a shit…”

There’s no mistaking it; that’s an infected bite…

No wonder FEDRA wants this kid , you think, a cold seed of certainty planting itself in your stomach.

Suddenly Joel is in your face, stepping between you, pushing you back. “Ellie, go home.”

“But–”

“ I said go home .”

“Fucking hell, man,” Ellie huffs, snatching her sweatshirt off the counter and stalking out of the room.

He waits until you hear the front door slam before he speaks, slowly and deliberately cutting his words. “I know what you’re doing,” he growls, still standing too close; you can feel an angry heat coming off his body, the faintest kiss of his breath on your face, and your back is inches from the wall.

You hate to admit it, but you’re almost turned on.

“And what is that, exactly?” you counter. “Treating your kid? Trying to get to know my neighbors? What exactly am I doing that’s so fucking objectionable, Miller?”

He seems taken aback at your sudden venom, the use of his name. There’s a glimmer of sorrow in his eyes, but it quickly turns dark. “She’s not your friend. We don’t need no friends,” he hisses, the Texan drawl thick with agitation. “Just…back off.”

You gape at him, barking a laugh. “Wow. You’re a piece of work, you know that? Does this moody, macho-bad-boy thing go for everyone? Or am I just that fucking special?”

“I’m…” he starts, swallowing hard. You wait for the rest, but it doesn’t come. He scowls, and you feel him edge back. The rush of cool air between your bodies should be a relief.

He doesn’t clean up, doesn’t grab his tools, just shoulders his way around you and out the door.

You seethe, barely containing a sudden urge to break your fist on the wall while pretending it’s Joel’s stupid face. You settle for a few deep breaths, unsure if you’re truly irritated with him, or with yourself for letting the arrogant asshole get under your skin.

The headache you were supposedly faking has manifested behind your eyes, and you don’t fall asleep for a long time.

~*~

He’s standing on your front porch in the morning, blocking the doorway as you’re leaving for the clinic. He jumps, caught off guard when you open the door and find him there, looking lost.

“What–”

“What are you–”

You speak at the same time, cutting each other off.

“I live here,” you say, feeling a fresh prickle of ire reseat itself in the pit of your stomach. “What’s your excuse?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I…yeah.” Joel rubs at the back of his neck, visibly agitated. There’s a long silence before he finally mutters, “I wanted to apologize.”

Another long pause.

“By all means, go ahead,” you prompt.

His eyes narrow. “...what?”

“You said you wanted to apologize, but I didn’t hear an apology,” you smirk, knowing you’re being pedantic, but it feels too good to watch him squirm.

He gapes, mouth opening and closing for a few delicious seconds before he huffs. “Whatever. Need my stuff.”

He invites himself in, barreling past you and straight toward the kitchen. You follow on his heels. You don’t know you’re going to ask the question until it’s out of your mouth.

“Christ, Miller, why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He’s kneeling, shoving tools and supplies into the toolbox with force, but his head snaps up at your words.

“Shut your damn mouth,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

But you can’t stop yourself. You’ve spent the night tossing and turning, angry at yourself for how much you’ve let this stupid man get to you, and now you have him cornered.

“You get off on being a dick? Is that it?”

He’s suddenly on his feet, crossing the distance between you in two long strides. He’s so fucking close you can feel his body practically vibrating with rage. His eyes bore into yours, lit by an angry flame.

You sneer. “You wanna hit me, big man? Go right the fuck ah–”

His mouth descends on yours before you can comprehend it: The press of lips, the hard clack of his teeth, the scrape of stubble against your chin. Rough and hungry, almost needy, the kiss shocks you into a numb silence.

Your hands come up to his chest, pushing him away, too stunned to speak. You’re both breathing hard. He licks his lips, watching you, something unknowable flicking across his face before he turns, grabs his toolbox, and walks out.

What…the fuck.

You’re still trying to catch your breath, to make sense of this strange and abrupt shift, when you hear his boots thudding on the hardwood floor. He re-enters the kitchen and looks at you, flushed and contrite.

“I shouldn’t’ve done that,” he says roughly. “That’s not–”

You don’t let him finish. You turn and grab him by the collar of his flannel, throwing yourself against him, meeting his ferocity with your own. You kiss him with tongue and teeth and bite, pleased when he doesn’t pull away when his hands find your hips and dig into the soft flesh.

That’s more like it.

You tug at his belt buckle with skilled fingers and have it off before he knows what’s happening. He moans into your mouth when you bite his lower lip. You soothe the nip with your tongue, diving in, tasting him.

“Fuuuuck,” he hisses, hands fumbling at the waist of your scrubs. You help, undoing the front tie, letting the soft fabric slip down your legs. You anchor your arms around his neck and he takes the hint, pulling you up so you can wrap your legs around him. He turns you both around, slamming your back against the wall hard enough to knock the air from your lungs.

More fumbling as he works his jeans down his hips–a challenge with you hanging off him, but somehow you manage. His breath is on your neck, the painful nip of his teeth at the hollow where your jaw meets your ear. Your panties are roughly pushed aside and he’s inside you, thick and hot, too full, too fast. You bite your lip to avoid crying out.

Braced against the wall, he thrusts into you, your head hitting the wall with each thrust. His brow furrows, head down in concentration, and you run your hands down his back, muttering encouragement. 

“Yeah, that’s right baby, fuck me,” you hiss, and his hand grips your jaw, covering your mouth, his eyes meeting yours in a silent warning as he punctuates his intent with a hard thrust.

Not a talker, should have known, you think, letting your teeth graze his palm, tasting salt.

You breathe, trying to stay open, to let him use you. A pleasant burn settles low in your abdomen as you get used to his invasion, but you’re barely there, just a vessel for him to fill.

His pace speeds up and you feel the telltale tensing in his back, his neck. Suddenly you’re unmoored, almost dropped, sliding down the wall. He turns away with a grunt, finishing in his hand. The emptiness between your legs throbs, half pain, half unsated desire.

There’s a long silence as the proverbial dust settles in around you. You feel a happy surge of triumph. After days of trying to breach his stony exterior, he’s finally in your territory.

“Miller–”

“I’m clean,” he says, moving to the sink, turning on the tap. His face is flushed, whether from embarrassment or arousal, you’re not sure, but his eyes are soft.

“Good. So am I,” you say brusquely, plucking your scrubs from the floor, pulling them up, and cinching them at your waist. “So this doesn’t need to be a one-time thing.”

He shakes his head, not meeting your gaze. “I’m not lookin’ for anything.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as if this encounter was the start of a romance, a prelude to anything but more fucking.

Barely passable fucking, at that.

“Neither am I,” you say. “But I have some experience with…relieving tension.”

This is as close as you’ll come to revealing your hand, letting your real-life identity bleed into this one. Not something you do as a general rule, but under the circumstances, you’ll take the risk.

He arches an eyebrow, and the expression is such a drastic difference from his stony glare that you allow yourself to admit that he’s incredibly attractive. He’s muscled from years of hard labor, hair just on the edge of salt and pepper, and when he’s not scowling, his eyes have a dark, seductive, come-fuck-me look that makes your stomach do pleasant somersaults.

“It’s a trade economy, right?” you continue, moving around him to wash your hands, smoothing loose strands of hair behind your ears. “Consider it a trade for work on the house. Payment for services rendered.”

He doesn’t respond, looks so confused that you have to bite back a smile, but you know he’ll take the bait. The desperation in his eyes, the frantic way he’d pushed inside you–this is a man who hasn’t had a physical connection in months, maybe years.

“Think about it,” you say flatly. “I’m late for work.”

You leave him standing in your kitchen, his belt buckle still undone.

~*~

He has you again two days later. You return from the clinic to find him in the bathroom on his back, wedged between the toilet and the tub. He grunts in acknowledgment when he hears you come in but doesn’t look at you, intent on his work. 

“You’re missing a shutoff valve for the shower. I’m not a plumber,” he says gruffly. “But I can do the work if we find the right fitting.”

“Oh?” you feign interest, seeing an opportunity, stripping off your scrub top and tossing it in the hamper.

“You’ve got three different kinds of pipe in here and they’re held together with fuckin’ bubblegum and spit,” he grumbles, as though the shoddy craftsmanship is somehow your fault. “No point in insulating until I clean this up and get the valve in, it’ll just leak again and you’ll be shit outta–”

When he finally sits up and looks at you, you’re standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a bra and panties. The nice ones.

“...luck,” he finishes, lips parting, eyes dark with desire, a catch in his breath. You bite back a smirk.

Men are so fucking easy.

“Wash up,” you say. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

There’s the brief sound of running water as you wait for him on the bed, then his footsteps over the threshold. He looks nervous, unsure, as though he hadn’t just taken you up against the wall two days ago.

You crawl to the edge of the bed, reaching out to undo his belt, and his jeans, sliding them down over narrow, muscled hips and thighs. He’s already half hard, not bad for a guy pushing sixty. You take him in your hand, watching his lids grow wanton, heavy with lust. You move to take him in your mouth, but he grunts and pushes you back on the bed, gripping your thighs to pull your hips flush with his. He’s inside you before you’re fully ready, and the sensation is more pain than pleasure.

Your hands come up under his shirt, running your fingers over the warm brown skin, the softness of his abdomen in sharp contrast to the hardness between your legs. You feel the edges of a scar.

A bite?

He’s lost in you so deeply, thrusting and churning, hips snapping against yours. He doesn’t notice you pulling the shirt up at first, doesn’t see you run your fingers around the outline of the bright pink, welted crescent.

“Fuck, so fuckin’…tight…”

Not a bite , you think, no teeth marks . Your doctor’s mind is already calculating the possibilities. Stab wound, maybe. Not a blade, too jagged.

He stills as he realizes what you’re doing, eyes meeting yours in furious betrayal before slapping your hands away. He pulls out of you with a low, angry growl, and strong arms flip you onto your stomach, gripping your hips where he’d bruised you yesterday. He re-enters you hard enough to take the breath from your lungs. His sharp, angry thrusts elicit a harsh cry from your throat, and this only serves to make him move faster.

“Fuckin’ whore,” he snarls. “Showin’ off your tits. Think you’re…so…fuckin’...smart…”

“You kiss your kid with that mouth, Miller?”

“Don’t,” he growls, a guttural warning, and you fight the urge to laugh as an almost vicious thrust pitches you forward, your hands splaying in the sheets to keep yourself upright. His fingers thread their way through your hair, pulling your head back, exposing your throat. His hand on your scalp is almost intimate, the way it kneads the tender skin, and you find yourself moaning with pleasure.

Before you can truly enjoy it, he pulls out and finishes with a groan on your back, warm liquid seeping down the crack of your ass. 

“So I take it that’s a yes?” you half laugh, half pant over your shoulder.

“What?” He’s pulling up his pants, fumbling with the belt buckle.

“Payment for services rendered.”

He glares at you and huffs an angry breath, but his final word is a whisper.

“Yes.”

~*~

There is a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth. You learn more about Joel during these brief encounters than you have the rest of the months you’ve lived in Jackson.

He likes you up against the wall, or on your hands and knees, fast and rough. He never completely removes his clothes, just enough to get the job done, his flannel shirts like armor guarding his heart.

He never undresses you, either, never does so much as pull down your panties, preferring to push them aside.

He likes you to be silent, but he has a dirty mouth. He smells like wood smoke and sweat and gunpowder.

He hasn’t kissed you since that first time. When you try, he pushes you away, turns you around, and takes you from behind. He won’t let you go down on him. Maybe he’s not into that, you know some guys aren’t, but you suspect it’s too personal, too intimate. Too vulnerable.

He never, ever comes inside you.

Somehow you think this isn’t what your superiors had in mind when they told you to find out who this guy’s daughter is, but it’s progress.

“Y’know, you don’t have to pull out,” you say, wiping ejaculate off your stomach with a tissue. You’re tired of washing his come out of your nice underwear, your bedclothes, your hair.

He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, pulling on his boots. You feel him pulling away, as always, and it’s a desperate move to try to keep him just a little longer, to edge your way into the cracks in his stony facade.

He scoffs at this, shaking his head, pulling the laces tight with a snap .

“I know condoms are hard to come by,” you continue evenly, the crisp voice of a practiced physician reciting rote facts, “but there’s no risk of pregnancy.”

He stiffens but doesn’t turn to look at you. “And I’m s’posed to believe that?”

You bristle, surprised to find this lack of trust stings…a little.

“What, you think I want a kid with you? You think I want a kid in…in this ?” you scoff, gesturing outside. “Don’t flatter yourself, Miller. I just hate doing laundry.”

“Accidents happen,” he grumbles, and you get the sense he speaks from experience.

“Was she an accident?” you ask, trying to imagine a younger Joel’s strong, calloused hands cradling the tender skull of a newborn Ellie, but you can’t picture it.

“Ellie? She ain’t mine.”

Oh.

You’ve touched on something, you’re so close you can taste it. What’s more, he doesn't leave immediately. He seems to be lost in thought, defenses down. He’s rubbing absently at his arm, his shoulder, kneading the muscle where his neck meets his collarbone.

“Well,” you say, clipped and final, “I haven’t had a period since I was 25. There are no accidents here.”

He looks at you with an unreadable expression; is that sadness…or pity? You don’t like the feeling it stirs in you, the twist in your gut. You suddenly wish you hadn’t started this conversation, hadn’t bared this much of yourself. It’s sloppy.

He opens his mouth as if to reply, but you’re unable to meet his eyes. You climb off the bed and head for the bathroom. Cold water on your face brings you back to yourself as you wipe off with a rough washcloth, then pull on your jeans and a soft, worn t-shirt.

Fuck. Too close.

By the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s standing in the hall. He looks like he wants to tell you something, and you meet his eyes, silently pleading.

Don’t.

Seconds pass, and you can almost see the moment his expression shutters, closes up, and suddenly he’s Joel Miller again, the neighborhood asshole. He scowls and makes for the stairs.

“You wouldn’t know it,” you say, in a desperate move to regain the upper hand, to find your footing on the roiling ground beneath you.

He stops on the first step but doesn’t turn around. “Wouldn’t know what?”

“That she’s not yours.”

~*~

When he’s gone, you walk up to the attic to check for new transmissions on the recorder.

You follow a straightforward procedure: Play back the tape, log the messages on a notepad, then wipe the tape for next time. You stash the logs at the bottom of one of the boxes of junk in the back of the attic. If someone did find the radio up here, you could get away with telling them it’s a hobby.

She ain’t mine.

His words ring in your ears.

Was the girl kidnapped? She doesn’t act like a victim, but maybe she was taken before she was old enough to understand what was happening. Maybe she has only ever known Joel as a father, and the mother is out there trying to find her. Were you chasing after some petty custody battle?

You brush the idea aside. You can’t imagine why FEDRA would care, and it doesn’t explain the scars on her arm.

You finish your notes and store them for the night, left with more questions than answers.

[catlucked]

█▐ 🐾 ▐     @batisms​​​​  sent     ┆     ›     ❛  i  really  appreciate  that  you’re  getting  into  the  halloween  spirit,  but  it’s  ten  in  the  morning.  please,  turn  off  the  slasher  films  so  i  can  eat  my  breakfast  in  peace.  ❜

selina  moved  into  one  of  the  bedrooms  at  WAYNE  MANOR  only  a  few  weeks  ago,  but  she  and  bruce  have  easily  found  an  almost  effortless  rhythm  and  go  about  their  morning  routines  as  though  they’d  been  living  under  the  same  roof  for  ages.  dancing  around  each  other  in  the  spotless  kitchen,  opening  different  cabinets  with  an  occasional  hip  bump,  fingertips  brushing  while  pulling  boxes  of  cereal  out  of  the  pantry…  and  for  once,  selina  doesn’t  really  mind.  there’s  something  about  this  domestic  feel,  the  safety  that  being  within  these  four  walls  brings  her,  that  puts  her  restless  spirit  at  ease.  at  least  for  a  moment.  that  being  said,  she  hasn’t  really  adapted  to  any  of  the  rules  that  alfred’s  set  for  bruce  —  she  never  eats  at  the  dining  room  table  or  even  in  the  kitchen,  she  devours  peanut  butter  straight  out  of  the  jar  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  she’s  never  in  bed  by  nine,  and  now  with  halloween  right  around  the  corner,  she  watches  all  the  forbidden  slasher  films  on  the  big  tv  in  the  living  room  from  the  moment  she  wakes  up  until  she  gets  sleepy.

❝   what?  does  a  little  bit  of  blood  bother  you?   ❞   she  lifts  an  eyebrow,  spooning  a  bunch  of  lucky  charms  and  stuffing  them  into  her  mouth.  she’s  perched  on  the  sofa,  still  in  her  pajamas,  with  a  blanket  wrapped  around  her  shoulders,  balancing  a  bowl  of  cereal  on  her  knee.  the  texas  chainsaw  massacre  is  unfolding  on  the  tv,  a  large  man  wearing  a  mask  made  of  skin  is  currently  attacking  some  scrawny  teenager  with  a  hammer,  and  she’s  watching  it  completely  unbothered,  her  expression  emotionless,  as  though  it  were  morning  news.  emerald  eyes  reluctantly  look  away  from  the  screen  and  focus  on  her  friend’s  features,  a  small  smile  blooming  on  her  lips.   ❝   oh,  my  —  you’re  scared!  is  that  what  it’s  about?  you’re  such  a  baby,  bruce,   ❞   she  giggles,  patting  the  spot  on  the  sofa  beside  her.   ❝   come  here.  this  is  a  classic  and  i  bet  you’ve  never  watched  it  before.  you  can’t  be  an  uncultured  swine,  you  know?  come  on.  the  best  scene  is  yet  to  come.   ❞

[isaacapatow]

with @adrixnadelgxdo | the daybreakers : adriana talks about ermano

ike apatow Have you ever done farm work before? -Ike's circling a structure made of sheets of galvanized roofing panels hammered together into a square enclosure, about six feet wide and tall on each side with a lower opening on one of the sides- This is sort of specialized, but also it's pretty easy if you've never done it.

Adriana Delgado Souza Can't say I've ever had the pleasure to do this. -Adriana glances around the structure, taking it in as she tries to work out what it is they're doing- What is it, anyway?

ike apatow We're setting aside fodder for the animals, for when there's nothing fresh for them to graze on. -he gestures at the enormous heap of various green weeds and stubble, the last of it all cut down from the forested places and wild hedges of the town- I'm gonna toss this stuff in the box, and you're gonna be in there stomping. Like how Italians do with grapes.

Adriana Delgado Souza You're right, the work does sound easy enough. -she shrugged off her jacket, figuring that the amount of stomping would keep her nice and warm once she got started- You know, I could have brought some of the kids along. I bet they would have fun stomping on some grass and hay.

ike apatow Next time. It's an experiment this year since we didn't have all these animals before, and I only made silage back when I was a teenager so -- in prehistoric times. -Ike snickers, lifting his chin towards the box- There's a layer in there so you can get started and I'll start loading as you stomp. Should go like gangbusters.

Adriana Delgado Souza Silage? Gangbusters? -Adriana was quite lost with both of those terms but it didn't stop her from jumping into the box and starting to stomp down on the stuff already loaded up while Ike got to work- What are gangbusters?

ike apatow Hoshit. Right, you're ... Brazilian? None of my usual vivacious circus tent vocabulary's gonna make much sense to you. -he snickers, then continues pitchforking greens into the box- When something's going along quick without obstacles, you say it's going 'like gangbusters'. I dunno where the saying came from, probably Prohibition when there were a buncha gangs in the States. Silage is what we're doing here, with this grass! The packed-down stuff at the end is what's called silage.

Adriana Delgado Souza I am. English is technically my third language. -the vibrant, descriptive words, while they made sense to her, were a bit confusing as to how they all linked together but she was slowly catching his drift- You learned that from the circus? I didn't know you were in one of those.

ike apatow I wasn't in a real circus. I just seem like a whole circus contained in one person. -he lets her tromp down the greens for a minute before adding more- Is that where you and Ermano met, in Brazil?

Adriana Delgado Souza Ahh, okay, I can see that. -she stops when he throws in more before continuing her crushing task- No, we met in Texas. Just a little bar outside the military town he was stationed at.

ike apatow And he danced. Did he dance? I feel like that's what you said.

Adriana Delgado Souza Yep, he did. He's quite the dancer. I should see about making it part of his rehab once he's cleared to move around without crutches.

ike apatow Is he back home now? I haven't been keeping up with the progress. -Ike leans into the box, pushing some stuff around, mostly to do it and not because it's really necessary

Adriana Delgado Souza Well, my home, yes. -she's mindful of his hands as she stomps around more- Renee didn't want him in his trailer and honestly, I agree. Someone needs to keep an eye on him so he doesn't go making himself worse. The man doesn't sit still.

ike apatow Him and David were making big noise about how scary you get. You scaring him into sitting still, Adriana?

Adriana Delgado Souza I'm not that scary. They just think I am. -she laughs a bit as she shakes her head- Oh no, I'm not scaring him into that. More like guilting him by reminding him of the stupid choices he made that put him in this position.

ike apatow -Ike squawks in triumph, leaning back out of the box- I knew it! Some men just don't know how to react to a woman standing her ground. You seem like the velvet glove sort. -Ike works for a minute before realizing that colloquialism might be lost on Adriana, so he pokes his head around the opening to look at her- Like, an iron hand in a velvet glove. Guilt and sweet talk seem like your weapons of choice.

Adriana Delgado Souza -At first Adriana was confused and she was sure it showed on her face as she glanced at him while trying to work out what a velvet glove could mean. But it seemed he realized it after a pause of silence and he explains, although it's still a bit confusing- I had to learn to stand my ground. My brothers made sure I knew how to. Especially Paulo. But yes, I find that a few well-placed words are more successful than yelling.

ike apatow -he nods, looking distinctly smug, and goes back to his task- He should move in with you.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana stumbles a bit but catches herself. It's not from his words - she just misstepped on a pile- You and me both. But he does love his airstream. It's his own little castle of solitude.

ike apatow That's idiotic. He's not an island anymore and it's clear he wants to pick things up with you again, so what's stopping him?

Adriana Delgado Souza Honestly? -she looks over his shoulder, not that she thinks Ermano would waddle his way to find them because he knows she would drag him back to her place and chain him to the bed if he did- I think he's still punishing himself.

ike apatow -Ike snorts, shaking his head- The way people in this town do exactly the shit they're always accusing me of. -that was mostly to himself; to Adriana, he says- Didn't he get enough of that being in a fuckin coma? Can't him and David, I dunno, timeshare the pointless guilt?

Adriana Delgado Souza -she doesn't hear the first thing he says and she guesses he meant to say it quietly so she doesn't ask. But she laughs as she pauses her stomping to fix her ponytail- Of all the years I was married to Ermano and known David, there is one thing I learned - they have such huge hearts. There is no telling them not to feel guilty about something because they're going to. Especially Ermie. He will carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and never ask for help. It's just who he is.

ike apatow Ohhh-kay, well -- no offense to your two enlarged heart boys, but that's a whole heaping steaming pile of bullcrap, miss missy. -Ike digs his pitchfork in, flinging the load of grass with more enthusiasm than strictly necessary- Who does that help, if he carries the world on his shoulders and falls down and breaks his ankle doing it and then rolls around never asking for help? People who never ask for help are only like that because they think everyone else sucks too hard to ever give them help. It's narcissism, not nobility.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana stands back and leans against the walls of the box so he could throw in more of the grass. It flies and she ducks, trying to avoid getting any of it in her hair, although his enthusiasm definitely covers her in stray stands- He thinks he's alleviating the burden off of others. But you and are in agreement - He's no good to anyone if he keeps pushing himself until he kills himself.

ike apatow That's only part of what I'm saying. The other part is that he doesn't trust anybody to be as capable as he is, which is a shitty way to look at it.

Adriana Delgado Souza I don't think it is that he doesn't trust other people to be as capable as him. Unless there's something I don't know that's happened in the past couple of years.

ike apatow Well, that's how I see it. But Ermano and me don't agree on plenty of things, so we can add this one to the pile. -Ike laughs, scraping the pitchfork around- Maybe he has some even MORE noble reason to never ask for help! Couldn't be me. But then I'm not a big ol' hero like he is.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana hums a laugh as she gets back to stomping- You know him and I still argue about the song we danced to at our wedding?

ike apatow Why would that be an argument? You guys are weird.

Adriana Delgado Souza Because if he had his way, we would have been dancing to Gasolina.

ike apatow I don't know it but I'm gathering you wouldn't have been too happy with that, huh?

Adriana Delgado Souza ANsolutely not. It's more of a club dance than it is a romantic song to share your first dance as husband and wife.

ike apatow Coulda been worse. Coulda been the macarena.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana laughed- You say that, but he did try to "serenade" me with that towards the end of the night.

ike apatow -snorts- You guys are cute. Hit all the romcom standards, huh?

Adriana Delgado Souza If that means we had fun together, than yes. You've only seen the broody Ermie. I'm gonna work on getting him to relax a bit. Hopefully having Bruno and now Allison around will help him relax.

ike apatow Sure, why not. You guys deserve a break.

Adriana Delgado Souza What about you, Ike? You seem to working extra hard lately.

ike apatow That's what happens when the two town bigshots fall down a cliff. All their responsibilities and hard work fall down the ladder on schmoos like me. -he scrapes caked grass off the pitchfork, then resumes tossing greens into the box-

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana glances at him, waiting for the greens to hit the ground before she stomped down on it- Well, after all of this, I guess you need your vacation. Although I wouldn't recommend going and flinging yourself off a cliff.

ike apatow Hah! No worries there. When I'm injured and supposed to be resting, that's what I do. Last thing I want is to run off and make things worse and be out of commission even longer. -he leans the pitchfork up against the side of the bin, picking up a bucket- Okay, I gotta pour this stuff on it before we get the next layer on. It's a mix of molasses and some other things. I had to fight Sol's nephew to get it. -he shakes his head, pouring the liquid over the stomped-down greens- Did you meet Cole, when he was breathing air?

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana quickly climbed out, albeit not gracefully in the slightest. She tripped but caught herself before finally getting out of the box. She dusted off her sleeves before shaking her head- I did not. He was Fleet's father, right?

ike apatow He certainly was. Not much else except an occasional nuisance. -since Adriana didn't know Cole, there's not much point talking about him, so Ike focuses on pouring the molasses mixture- How many people have you seen turn?

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana hums in thought as she recalled the past couple of years- No one, really. That's not to say that I didn't see anything before I got here. I saw people get eaten and I saw people killed but I never saw someone actually turn. You?

ike apatow Oh, yeah. Plenty. -he tamps down an area with the heel of his boot, then stoops to grab a handful of grass to wipe out the inside of the bucket- Killed a shit ton of em, too. But then that goes with the job. You and Ermano forgiven each other for all the things you did to fuck up your marriage?

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana stood back to keep from getting any of the molasses on her but her eyes were watching Ike instead and listening to him- Did it ever bother you? Killing them, I mean.

ike apatow Why? -Ike hops out of the bin, leaning against it to look at her- What does it mean if it bothers me? What does it mean if I like it? Does it make me something weird if I say I fuckin' love crushing in their rotted little cabezas?

Adriana Delgado Souza No, I'm just curious. -she was being honest- Just with everything I don't know if there's gonna come a time when I might have to be more aggressive and I want to be prepared, I guess.

ike apatow There probably will be. Your hubs can steer you on what would be the best way to prepare, or David, maybe. They like training people. -but after a moment he relents and answers her question- It's not pleasant, especially if they're fresh and they still look like people. But once you remind yourself there's nothing human in there, and they're anti-life, they're only disease in a shell, it gets easier.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana was getting the hint so she prepares to jump back in and get to stomping but he went on. Whether Ike knew it or not, his answer was helpful- That's actually really insightful.

ike apatow Even us schmoos get one in every now and again. -he snickers, waiting for her to find her footing again before he keeps loading-

Adriana Delgado Souza -she carefully steps into the silo and finds her balance before starting to stomp once again- What is that? Schmoos?

ike apatow -he considers for a moment, jabbing the greenage with his pitchfork before settling on- People who don't have big huge noble hearts and carry everyone's burdens without asking for help. I love asking for help. And my heart's about the size of a three walnuts crammed in a sock. -he grins and nods, pleased with this definition-

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana cocks her head to the side a bit as she tries to put the dots together- Wait, so then you're not a schmoo?

ike apatow I'm absolutely a schmoo, Adriana! I just said I love asking for help!

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana laughed- Desculpe, Ike. Did I mention English is my 3rd language?

ike apatow You did, and I am about twenty percent certain you understand English waaaaay better than you let on. -he squints at her, tapping the side of his nose and pointing- I'm onto you, missy.

Adriana Delgado Souza Eu não tenho idéia do que você quer dizer, Ike. -she smirks with a shrug-

ike apatow Supercalifragilistic back atcha.

Adriana Delgado Souza That's not even a word. -she laughs-

ike apatow What? You've never seen Mary Poppins? You'd love it. The husband and wife in it are just like you and Ermie. -Ike snickers to himself using the nickname that Adriana had, injecting it with syrupy sweetness- Anyhow, you were saying stuff you know I don't understand, so I was returning the favour.

Adriana Delgado Souza Oh, that's the movie with the cup of sugar thing, right? I think I remember it being played at the school one day I used to work at. -she stomps on the grass and quickly catches herself before she falls over- It's just a bit of Portugeuse. I'm sure you could pick it up in no time.

ike apatow I got no ear for languages. It sounded to me like you maybe said you don't know what I'm ever saying, but that could be way off. And yeah, a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down! Sounds like your marriage.

Adriana Delgado Souza Not far off. I said I have no idea what you're talking about. See? You're learning already. -she angles her head a bit- How so?

ike apatow -Adriana is unruffled by his pretty rude comment, and Ike gives a sidelong smile, more affectionate- You're the spoonful of sugar, he's the medicine. You're the one who smooths over bitter situations that might very well be good for you in the long run, but could use some sweet.

Adriana Delgado Souza -she casts him a look as she registers the comment- Are you saying Ermie isn't sweet?

ike apatow Are you kidding me? -Ike looks over at her- Adriana, even if he's sweet to you, you gotta see how he is with everyone else.

Adriana Delgado Souza Which is?

ike apatow Uhhh ... decidedly not sweet?

Adriana Delgado Souza -she waves her hands towards him- Do you have an example?

ike apatow -he snorts, redirecting his attention to his work- Listen, I doubt you two sit around and discuss my finer personality points, so I'm not about to do that for Ermie.

Adriana Delgado Souza -she holds her hands up- Alright, fine. I won't ask for your point of view so I can discuss things with him.

ike apatow Jesus christ! -Ike stops, staring at her with his mouth agape- SHIT no, don't do that! If he wants to know what people think of him -- and I guarantee you he gives less than a sliver of a fuck about that -- then he can ask us himself!

Adriana Delgado Souza And you have not been married to him for years and know how he thinks or works. You know how many boneheaded mistakes he's made and been completely oblivious about until I pointed them out?

ike apatow That's your job, sugarplum, not mine.

Adriana Delgado Souza You're right - your job is to stop trying to cover me in strands of grass when you throw it in here. I'm gonna be picking sticks of it out of my hair for weeks.

ike apatow Getting lightly decorated with grass comes with the territory, princesa! Maybe Ermie can pluck them out. See, I'm creating fun date night opportunities for you!

Adriana Delgado Souza Mmhmm. Hopefully the cows don't try to eat me on the way out.

ike apatow Being licked by cows is very fun. That's how I do my hair in the morning.

Adriana Delgado Souza Oh, is that why it's called a cow lick?

ike apatow That's exactly it. -he pauses to slap at the hair sticking up all over the back of his head, in demonstration- You should give it a try.

Adriana Delgado Souza And rob you of that beautiful look on you? I think I'll give it a pass.

ike apatow Take Ermie to the cow pasture and let em see if they can get through that mop of his, heh heh.

Adriana Delgado Souza They might eat his hair before they lick it.

ike apatow Live dangerously, Adriana! Get him a new haircut via moo cow!

Adriana Delgado Souza That is to say I can get him to sit still for a haircut.

ike apatow That's the beauty of letting a cow do it.

Adriana Delgado Souza By watching him run away from cows in a cow field?

ike apatow -pauses, asking very seriously- Is Ermie afraid of cows?

Adriana Delgado Souza I don't think so....?

ike apatow Then why would he run away from them?

Adriana Delgado Souza To avoid getting his hair eaten by them.

ike apatow Jesus shit, this is more than I ever wanted to talk about Ermano and for absolutely no purpose. -Ike goes back to his work, flinging the greens with even less precision now-

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana hums softly as she ducks to avoid the grass being flung her way- And yet you were there when he woke up.

ike apatow I happened to be there! And he still pretended to be in a coma cuz he wanted to hear me talking about him. The guy's a narcissist. You're probably gonna scamper back to him and relay all of everything I said, sitting at his knee hoping for him to actually notice something about you.

Adriana Delgado Souza He notices plenty of things about me, Ike, but I appreciate your concern.

ike apatow No arguing with the rose-colored glasses of love, huh?

Adriana Delgado Souza Well, I'm curious what you think he doesn't see because he's wrapped up in his narcissism.

ike apatow I already said I'm not gonna give some speech about him. The truth is I don't know shit about who Ermie is or isn't, because he doesn't care to let anyone know him. And talking to you equals talking about him, so I don't know shit about you either.

Adriana Delgado Souza Alright, no more talking about Ermano. I will avoid mentioning him. -she eyes him as she holds onto the edge to stabilize herself as her ankle twisted from the unbalance of the ground she was standing on- Honestly, I'm used to people wanting to talk about him and it's easier talking about him.

ike apatow Is that what married life is about? Everyone wanting to know about your husband and it being your job to pump him up to them? -Ike pauses to go over and watch as Adriana restabilizes, just in case she needs a hand-

Adriana Delgado Souza Not all the time. -she holds out her hand to balance herself before looking over at Ike- Most military wives liked to sit around and gossip and talk about their husbands and stuff like that. The special moments behind the scenes and memories built together.

ike apatow -he holds back a shudder, but can't hold back the grimace as he reaches in to grab Adriana around the middle and dance her feet against the silage until she finds better footing- Sounds wonderful. That's how you define yourself, huh? A military wife.

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana is grateful for the help- Obrigado. -she finds her footing before stamping down on some of the silage- Well, not anymore. But before it was nice to be like that. Surrounded by people who know what you're going through instead of being the weird outsider.

ike apatow Hunh. -Ike looks at her for a moment, then shakes his head and picks up his pitchfork again- All right. We can talk about something else. I shouldn't have pushed

Adriana Delgado Souza -Adriana shrugged- I don't mind. As you mentioned, you don't know anything about me. You can ask whatever you want. Unless you're uncomfortable.

ike apatow A little bit. I didn't expect your driving way of identifying yourself to be your husband's job.

Adriana Delgado Souza -she looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk- Then I won't mention anything more about it.

ike apatow We've only got a little ways to go, anyhow, so it's okay there's nothing to talk about if it's not about Ermano! -he smirks back at her, tapping the end of the pitchfork handle against his forehead, and gets to work finishing up putting everything in the silage bin-

Adriana Delgado Souza And here I was gonna ask about the next time I can get you to the daycare and read another book to the kids. -she laughs a bit as she steps on the last bit- But honestly, I'm glad this is just about done. Nothing against the work but it's gonna be a pain in the head to clean the molasses off these boots.

ike apatow Ahhh, I don't have time for that anymore -- now that my head's healed up it's back to my own work and picking up after the two men with huge hearts who went out and fell down a cliff. -Ike does the last forkful of greenery and gives a whoop, wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist- Sweaty work. Give those boots to the cows and horses to lick and you won't have to lift a finger -- grass and molasses is like candy for em.

Adriana Delgado Souza Awww, that's a shame. -she climbs out of the silo and stumbles a bit but catches herself before trying to pick some of the grass out of her coat- The kids loved your visits. But I understand. Hopefully after this is all sorted you'll get the time again. You're good at it.

ike apatow It was fun! Some day. When things settle down. -the possibilities of that are slim, but Ike leaves it at that-

Adriana Delgado Souza I will hold you to that. -she steps up and gives his cheek a kiss- Adeus, Ike. Don't work yourself too hard.

[ginanddonuts]

It’s been a minute since I did one of these, but in a year that started with the death of a legend , and saw music infrastructure fracture even further into hyper-niche corners, I found myself more engaged than I’ve been in a while with new rap. Maybe the sheer impossibility of staying on top of everything freed me up to just hear what I hear and rock with what I like, or maybe I just finally burnt myself out playing Starlito tapes on repeat and needed something to switch it up with, but picking 50 was actually kinda tricky. Who knew?

In alphabetic order. Got em’ in a YouTube and an Apple Music playlist for easy listenin'

Armand Hammer - Y'all Can't Stand Right Here (prod. Steel Tipped Dove & Messiah Musik) AyooLii - Shmackin Town (prod. 2PHONENOAH) Baby Osama - Only Girl in the NBA (prod. ?) Babyface Ray ft Los & Nutty - Luh Tyler Flow (prod. TanaFyeThatShitUp2) BabyTron ft Luh Tyler - Kai Cenat / Old Days (prod. Hokatiwi) billy woods - Rapper Weed (prod. Kenny Segal) Bobby Too Tact - Real Facts (WhoRunItNYC Performance) (prod. Lowkeymali) 2HUMPY x 2RARE - 2HUMPY Anthem (prod. 2HUMPY) Certified Trapper - Over Seas (prod. Certified Trapper) Christ Dillinger - Ima Go Out Fighting Like King Von (prod. Seepy) Connie Diiamond ft Jenn Carter - Ghetto & Ratchet (prod. DJAaronOnDaBeat & Milan Made It) CrackWhite - Black Pain (prod. RAN) Danny Brown ft Bruiser Wolf - Y.B.P. (prod. SKYWLKR, Kassa Overall) DJ Fresh ft E40, Larry June & Dreebo - Pop My Shit (prod. DJ Fresh) Earl Sweatshirt - Making the Band (Danity Kane) (prod. Evilgiane) FLEE - Hunnibun (prod. Natt Carlos) Gabe 'Nandez - Long Reach (prod. Argov) Ice Spice - Deli (prod. RiotUSA) IceColdBishop - Last Night (prod.BREGMA, Jeremy Uribe, David Emanuel & Bubbs) ICYTWAT - Black Card (prod. Rocco Roy) Jay Hound ft Jay5ive - Ukraine (prod. DoubleM) Kari Faux ft Devin the Dude - DOG (prod. Phoelix) KARRAHBOOO - Running Late (prod. Gentlebeatz & Yovng Blake) Key Glock - In And Outta Town (prod. BandPlay & Hitkidd) Killer Mike ft. Future, Andre 3000, Eryn Allen Kane - Scientists & Engineers (prod. André 3000, No I.D., DJ Paul, James Blake & TWhy) King Vision Ultra ft Lord Kayso - Media Training (prod. King Vision Ultra) Maiya The Don - Dusties (prod. Pliznaya & Derrick Milano) Maz G x AyooLii - Jack TAP (prod. AyooLii) Niontay ft Earl Sweatshirt, El Cousteau, & MIKE - Real hiphop (prod. Tony Seltzer & Vinny Fanta) Noname ft $ilkMoney & billy woods - gospel? (prod. Gaetan) NR Boor x OT7 Quanny - Body 4 Body (prod. Pyro-Z5) Oodaredevil - No Regular (prod. Cade, Giannii) Paris Texas ft Kenny Mason - DnD (prod. Paris Texas, Dilip, William J. Sullivan, Julian Ali, Romil Hemnani) Rent Check ft Baghead & Vazh - Full Court(prod. Baghead) RXKNephew - Matching moncler (prod. Warheart) Sexyy Red - Shake Yo Dreads (prod. Kat Lightning & AyoCBass) ShyBelligerent-Trynna Make It Out (prod. SheeeshJon) SieteGang Yabbie - Everybody Eats B (prod. 500K?) Smokingskul - Blue Zan (prod. Pdf) Stonedda5th - Changed (prod. CYOUNGBEATZ) That Mexican OT ft Paul Wall & Drodi - Johnny Dang (prod. TobiAli) Tisakorean ft Sunny Galactial - uHhH HuH.mP3 (prod. TisaKorean) TREE x Vic Spencer - Suede on the Roof (prod. CJ the Kid) Treety - "Making Love" (prod. Blaqnmild) Valee ft 03 Greedo (prod. Harry Fraud) Young Nudy - Pancake (prod. Coupe) Young Thug ft Slime & Lil Goth - Hoodie (prod. Southside & Metro Boomin) Zelooperz - 4Inju (prod. Carlo Anthony) 41 - Run That (prod. Touchamill, Jake Krumm, Kshawn Van Huner & Hunter Tomeo)

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[robertreich]

The Freedom to Freeze

Texas’s prevailing social Darwinism was expressed most succinctly last week by the mayor of Colorado City, who accused his constituents – trapped in near sub-zero temperatures and complaining about lack of heat, electricity, and drinkable water -- of being the “lazy” products of a “socialist government,” adding “I’m sick and tired of people looking for a damn handout!” and predicting “only the strong will survive and the weak will perish.”

Texas has the third-highest number of billionaires in America, most of them oil tycoons. Its laissez-faire state energy market delivered a bonanza to oil and gas producers that managed to keep production going during the freeze. It was “like hitting the jackpot,” boasted president of Comstock Resources on an earnings call. Jerry Jones, billionaire owner of the Dallas Cowboys, holds a majority of Comstock’s shares.

But most other Texans were marooned. Some did perish.

The Electric Reliability Council of Texas, which manages the flow of electric power, exempted affluent downtowns from outages – leaving the thriving parts of Austin, Dallas, and Houston brightly lit while pushing less affluent precincts into the dark and cold.

Like the poor across America and much of the world, poor Texans are getting hammered by climate change. Many inhabit substandard homes, lacking proper insulation. The very poor occupy trailers or tents, or camp out in their cars. Lower-income communities also are located close to refineries and other industrial sites that release added pollutants when they shut or restart.

In Texas, for-profit energy companies have no incentive to prepare for extreme weather or maintain spare capacity. Even when they’re able to handle surges in demand, prices go through the roof and poorer households are hit hard. That’s what’s happened in the wake of the deep freeze. If they can’t pay, they’re cut off.

Rich Texans take spikes in energy prices in their stride. If the electric grid goes down, private generators kick in. In a pinch – as last week -- they check into hotels or leave town. As millions of his constituents remained without power and heat, Senator Ted Cruz flew to Cancun, Mexico for a family vacation. Their Houston home was “FREEZING,” as his wife put it.

Climate change and income are together splitting Americans by class more profoundly than Americans are split by politics. Yet the white working class has been seduced by conservative Republicans and Trump cultists, of which Texas has an abundance, into believing that what’s good for Black and Latino people is bad for them, and that whites are, or should be, on the winning side of the social Darwinian contest.  

White grievance helps keep Republicans in power, protecting their rich patrons from a majority that might otherwise join together to demand what they need -- such heat and drinking water.

Lower-income Texans, white as well as Black and Latino, are taking it on the chin in many other ways. Texas is one of the few states that hasn’t expanded Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, leaving the share of Texans without health insurance twice the national average, the largest uninsured population of any state. Texas has double the national average of children in poverty and a higher rate of unemployment than the nation’s average.

And although Texans have suffered multiple natural disasters stemming from climate change, Texas Republicans are dead set against a Green New Deal that would help reduce the horrific impacts.  

Last Wednesday, Texas Governor Greg Abbott went on Fox News to proclaim, absurdly, that what happened to his state “shows how the Green New Deal would be a deadly deal for the United States.” Abbott blamed the power failure on the fact that “wind and solar got shut down.”

Rubbish. The loss of power from frozen coal-fired and natural gas plants was six times larger than the dent caused by frozen wind turbines. Texans froze because deregulation and a profit-driven free market created an electric grid utterly unprepared for climate change.

In Texas, tycoons are the only winners from climate change. Everyone else is losing badly. Adapting to extreme weather is necessary but it’s no substitute for cutting emissions, which Texas is loath to do. Not even the Lone Star State should protect the freedom to freeze.

[coronerandundersheriff]

Sensual Sunday

My favourite place

Summer days in Texas were hot or humid or wet.

Today you could have a little bit of everything. In the morning it was already more than warm, around noon it became oppressively humid and in the afternoon the heavy rain began to pelt the heated landscape.

But two people didn't really care, because they had two days off in a row: the coroner and the undersheriff. 

And the rain tapped almost melodically on the windows of the small bungalow. No one was on the streets. The sky was completely darkened, heavy grey-black rain clouds hung low over the small town. 

"Now sex!" With these words, Dorian put his dessert spoon aside, dabbed the corners of his mouth with the pretty lilac napkin and grinned into the face of his counterpart. 

"I'm so full, I don't even know if I can, darling." Trevelyan replied to him, stroking his full stomach pleasingly.

Silvery eyes stared at him in disbelief.

"Hmmmmm, this would truly surprise me, my dearest colleague!!! Days off, delicious food, lovely company and the invitation to uninhibited, delightfully dirty, wildly wet and delicious sexual intercourse do not immediately make you jump out of all the clouds and over me...? This is most astonishing...." Pavus shook his head in disbelief and unbuttoned the top buttons of his fine shirt.

"Oh Dori..." Trevelyan was interrupted. 

"Silence! I'm a randy bitch already and I'm going to show you where my hammer hangs!!! I'm going to have fun with myself in front of your truly divinely beautiful eyes until you just can't help but come all over me and really go down on me!" Dorian spoke sternly but in such a velvety voice that his guest felt hot all over. 

Meanwhile, the man with the dapper mustache had unbuttoned his shirt almost completely and was now reaching out with his right hand and caressing his silky, golden-brown and muscular chest. 

Dorian seemed to enjoy this immensely, for David saw how his friend's nipples had already become wonderfully shaped hard pearls under his caress. And also Trevelyan felt something. His own nipples were beginning to harden and something further down was also stiffening in a very pleasurable way. 

A soft sigh escaped David's half-open lips. 

Lasciviously, the host stroked his own cheek with his left hand and then playfully nibbled on his little finger. Meanwhile, his right hand had moved further down and was now out of sight under the table.

A comforting grumble could be heard from Dorian's direction. He rolled his eyes. 

"Okay okay okay.... Enough already!"

With those words David jumped off the chair, and in no time at all round the table, pulled Dorian backwards with his chair, grabbed his beloved and carried him in strapping arms towards the bedroom. It was a good thing the door was only ajar, otherwise Trevelyan might have just kicked it in. 

Arriving at the bed, he threw Dorian onto it with a strong jerk and jumped right after him. 

It was dark in the room and outside the rain was pelting wildly on the roof, but all the two of them heard were wet kisses and deep moans. Clothes were tugged at, hair was ruffled, teeth nibbled at lips, seductive perfume scent slowly mingled with tangy sweat smell.

"You are so... oh.... Oh Dori!" Trevelyan was unstoppable.

And outside, the rain was still pelting the world, but inside, two sweaty bodies lay close together in an intimate embrace.

"I've had a lot of bad experiences in my life, you know, David!" Said Dorian softly into the darkness of the room.

Without saying a word, David gently stroked his lover's damp and silky smooth skin, trying to make him feel secure and affectionate.

"I was an absolute fool... no, this doesn't even begin to cover it! I was a brainless idiot! Stubborn, gullible, simply blind to see the truth. Maybe I even saw it, but I refused to accept it. This is what fools do... I think..." 

Trevelyan pressed himself very close to his colleague's body. 

They were both silent for a few minutes. 

Suddenly David broke the silence: "When you're in a total slump, in a bad mood all of a sudden, and you could cry, yell and vomit all at the same time, you're supposed to imagine your favourite place really quickly. Where you are safe, where you are not vulnerable, where you feel free and strong and comfortable. That helps immensely! Do you have such an imaginary place in your imagination, Dori, my darling?"

David did not stop stroking Dorian tenderly. When no answer came, David thought Dorian had fallen asleep. 

But then suddenly a reply came. 

"Yes, I have such a place, David. Ever since I've known you, I've had such a place." Dorian almost breathed the answer, so velvety did he speak the words. 

"Oh Dori, this is the most beautiful compliment I have ever received. What does the place look like? Only if you don't mind me asking, of course." David snuggled even closer to his beloved. 

"It's your arms, David. It's where I feel strong and safe. Having sex with you is great, don't get me wrong, I'm really fascinated by the two of us, but the moments afterwards are those that give me strength, that are my safe place. Because I feel... no wait, I know you mean it with me, you're my friend and I..." Dorian fell silent in mid-sentence, again not having the heart to say the three little words. 

David came very close and pressed a little kiss on the coroner's cheek, "I love you too, Dorian. Now let's get some slumber. Sleep well, darling."

And then there was only the soft sound of the Texan summer rain splashing on the roof of the little bungalow.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 1/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall Summary: The year is 1886, William Mulder owns a horse ranch in northern Texas.  The widow of a neighboring landowner has something he wants. Notes: Please be aware that this fic will contain ‘off-camera’ references to violence and abuse of various kinds. I will not be tagging individual TWs on the chapters.

Prologue

Many years from now, when he tells the tales of his younger days, he will claim that this is the day that changed his life forever.  If that horse hadn’t thrown a shoe, well then.  His wife will roll her eyes at this, tell him that any number of events prior to that day had already changed his life forever.  The decision to leave Massachusetts for the open prairie, for example, had changed his life forever.  The fact that his father had sent him to live with his aunt in the countryside instead of keeping him in the city had changed his life forever.  The pony he received for his birthday when he was a child had clearly changed his life forever.

All of that will hindsight one day.  Right now, it’s just an ordinary Thursday, the 9th of September, 1886.  The weather is mild, almost cool compared to the heat wave that had hit in the latter half of August.  And William Mulder’s horse has thrown a shoe.

Chapter 1

Normally, Mulder (only his family ever called him William) sends his ranch hand, Melvin, to take care of small errands and menial tasks, but he hasn’t been to town in almost a month and he could use a change of pace.  He hitches one of his more reliable horses to his wagon and takes one of the ones in training as well, one he’s just broken in, to see how he handles on the hour-long ride.  Their first stop is Gray’s Blacksmith.

After tying the horses to the post, Mulder gives them both a good scratching about the neck for a job well done and receives a snort and whinny of appreciation.  “Well done, boys,” he says.  “Carrots and apples at home for both of you if you keep up the good work.”

The familiar sound of clanking and hammering and the crackle of fire greets Mulder as he steps into the open door of the blacksmith’s.  He tips his hat to the striker, who nods a greeting.  The blacksmith turns and nods as well.

“Mr. Gray,” Mulder says.

“Mr. Mulder,” the blacksmith answers, passing his tongs to his assistant and then removing his gloves to shake hands.  “What can I do for ya?”

“Faithful Jenny’s thrown a shoe.  Melvin’s fixing her up, but I figured it was a good time to pick up a crate of nails and shoes.”

“Come on back and take a look then.  How’s business?”

“Doing well.  We’re training up a half dozen draft horses for the postal service right now.”

“Is the rumor you pulled in a mustang a few weeks ago true?”

“Afraid so.”

“You ain’t got a broken neck far as I can tell, so you must be faring alright with him then.”

“You can see him for yourself when I take this cart out to the wagon.”

“You brung him with ya?”

“I did.”

“I’ll be.”

Mulder feels a surge of pride when the blacksmith comes out to admire the horse.  He slides the crate of shoes and nails into the back of the wagon and then shows off his friendship with the four-legged beast by rubbing his belly.  The horse scratches the ground with his front hoof and shakes his head.

“You sure got a way, Mr. Mulder,” Mr. Gray says.  “If you got any stock you’re looking to sell I heard there’s a new homesteader a ways south that was interested.”

“I’m on my way to the mercantile.  I’ll be sure to ask John.”

The two men shake hands once again before Mulder gets back in his wagon.  He smiles to himself when the blacksmith watches him leave.  He’s made a name for himself in the short while he’s been here breaking and training up horses.  Folks in the area have said time and again that there isn’t a horse he can’t tame, that it’s almost downright spooky the way he seems to be able to talk to them.

There’s a man being waited on in the mercantile that Mulder doesn’t recognize, probably someone just passing through.  He waits for John Byers to finish with the customer, browsing the Montgomery Ward & Co. catalog at the end of the counter.

“Mulder,” John says after ringing the man up at the till.  “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, John.”  He pulls a shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it.  “I’m sure you’re better at translating Melvin’s chicken scratches than me at this point.”

“I believe I can manage.”  John chuckles and takes the shopping list.  He pulls a crate down and begins to collect items off the shelves and William goes back to the catalogue, thumbing past the illustrations of ladies’ garments to find menswear.

“If I put in an order for denim trousers for me and the boys you think they’ll be in by winter?”

“I’d say it’s likely.”

“Mr. Gray mentioned there were some new homesteaders interested in horses.”

“He must mean Mr. Campbell.  It’s oxen he’s after, I believe.”

“If you hear otherwise, send him my way.”

“I’ll do that.  I suppose you heard about your neighbor?”

“What neighbor is that?”

“Jack Willis.”

“Haven’t heard a thing.  What about him?”

“He spent all of Saturday night at the saloon in a poker game and was found dead in a ditch just outside of town on Sunday morning.”

“Robbed?”

“I should actually say he spent all Saturday night losing in a poker game and downing whiskey like water.  I heard he stumbled his way into that ditch of his own accord and met an untimely demise.”

“I only met him the once, but that doesn’t surprise me much.  Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but the man had a disagreeable disposition.  He seemed like the type to get himself into trouble.”

“Well, the bank is soon to be after his widow.  I’ve heard he’s in arrears.  I’m actually surprised the Sheriff didn’t stop on at your place on his way out there to tell her about her husband’s death.”

“Didn’t know he had a widow.  And you know Sheriff Doggett, he’s all business.”

“My Susannah saw them together, he and his wife, the day they passed through looking for land, and you know Susannah, she was beside herself at the notion of another woman come to town, but then no one’s seen hide nor hair of her since.”

“I still regret having been back east when Old Man Goodwin passed.  I’ve had my eye on that land for quite some time.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it to you.”

Mulder rubs at his chin in thought.  “You say the bank is about to repossess?”

“That’s the rumor.  I don’t think Mr. Skinner would relish evicting a new widow, but there probably isn’t much he can do if the mortgage is late.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a ride out to pay my respects and assess the situation.  Thank you, John.”

Byers nods and gestures to the items laid out on the counter.  “I’ll have John Jr. load the cart for you.  Would you like this on your account?”

“I’ll square up everything now, but go ahead and order those trousers.”

The hour ride back home gives Mulder time to think.  He’s in a position to offer the Willis widow a handsome sum for his neighboring acres.  The one and only time he’d met Jack Willis he was immediately soured on trying to form any kind of friendship with him.  The man had been downright surly and abrasive and he sure hopes the widow is more neighborly.

Melvin takes over the wagon when Mulder arrives home and shows him the new shoe on Faithful Jenny.  The older man is at least a foot closer to the ground than Mulder and proudly displays a life-long love of hearty biscuits around his middle, but there’s no better right-hand man that Mulder could ask for.  He’s foreman and farrier, counselor and cook.  There isn’t anything Mulder doesn’t trust him with.  As they unload the wagon together, he tells him about what he heard from John Byers.

“Well, there’s no harm in asking,” Melvin offers as advice.  “If’n the bank really is after her, she might be grateful for the offer.  You should probably get out there as soon as possible in case anyone else might be sniffin’ around for them acres.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“You know if’n I’d heard about Bob Goodwin any sooner I’d have snatched up them acres for you before I could even send a wire.”

“I know, it’s not your fault.  Do me a favor, old man, tack up Blondie while I try to make myself presentable.”

“That could take hours.  Days even.”

“Decades, in your case.  If it’s even possible.”

The two men laugh over their gentle ribbing of each other and Mulder claps Melvin on the shoulder.  He parts from his friend to go wash his face, comb his hair, and put on a fresh shirt.  His horse is saddled and ready to go when he comes back out.

“Good luck,” Melvin tells him.

A narrow, slow-moving creek divides Mulder’s property from the Willis widow’s land.  It’s one he’s crossed many times when Old Man Goodwin was his neighbor.  He knows where the shallowest spot is to lead the horse and where the shrubs are too thick and have to be avoided.  He tries not to daydream about what he’ll do with an expansion, but he passes the spot he’d like to clear out for a better corral and where he’d like to add another stable and it’s hard not to hope.

The old sod house that Old Man Goodwin had slapped together is still standing, though it looks to have seen better days.  The roof needs patching and the walls are crumbling in spots.  He dismounts Blondie when he’s still a few yards away and leads the horse over to the post he knows is at the side of the house.  The nearby trough which is usually full of water is empty.  The chickens that were usually clucking and underfoot are nowhere to be seen.

Mulder knocks lightly on the clapboard door and moments later a woman with the reddest hair and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen answers.

↭

Katherine is expecting the knock when it comes, though it’s sooner than she thought it would be.  In the days since her husband’s death, she’s racked her brain for a solution to her current predicament, but has come up empty handed.  She doesn’t delay in answering the door.  She may be on the verge of being destitute and homeless, but she’ll face it with dignity.

“Uh, Mrs. Willis, I presume?” the man asks.  He stammers a bit but he has an easy, congenial smile that catches her a little off guard.  She’d been expecting the Sheriff she’d met on Sunday, but perhaps the bank manager in this town takes care of evictions.  

“Mr. Skinner, I presume?” she finally replies.

The man chuckles and removes his hat.  “Ah, no Ma’am,” he says, running his hand through his hair.  “I’m afraid I have a bit more hair than our dear Mr. bank manager.”

“Oh.”  She should have known.  The bank managers she’s had dealings with in the past were stuffy and pinched.  This man is far too rugged and handsome to be a bank manager.

“William Mulder.”  He holds out his hand to her and when she gives him hers, he bows slightly and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles.  Embarrassed, she pulls her hand back and closes it into a fist to hide her dirty and calloused palms from him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“I know we haven’t met before, but I happen to be your neighbor just to the south.  I heard about your husband and I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“I see.  Would you...care to come in, then?”

“Thank you.”

He has to bend to step through the low-frame of the door.  She has no candles, but there’s enough light from the open door and the unpatched holes in the walls that it’s unnecessary.  She watches him look the place over and she can tell he’s not impressed by the shabbiness of it all.  

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says.

He smiles politely.  “That’s alright, Ma’am.  I came to be neighborly, but there is also a matter I wanted to discuss regarding this land.”

“Oh?”  Fear grips her suddenly.  He may not be the bank man, and he may not be the sheriff, but he could be another kind of lawman.  Even if he was telling the truth that he was her neighbor, he could still be there to turn her out, or worse yet, remove her to debtor’s prison.  Unconsciously, she begins to tremble.

“Mrs. Willis?” he asks.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, pulling the tattered shawl draped over her shoulders a little tighter across her chest.  “A chill is all.”

He looks around again.  “You’ve no chair to sit on?”

“No.”

“Would you like to come back outside?  Perhaps it will be warmer.  You could sit on my horse.”

The absurdity of the offer makes her laugh and eases her anxiety somewhat.  He bites his lower lip almost shyly and tips his chin down as he turns the hat over in his hands again.  She stares at his mouth, thinking about how the slight overbite he has seems to suit him well.  She notes other things too, in the silence.  Like how his beard is well-trimmed and his nails are clean.  He presents himself as a cowboy, but she knows a city man when she sees one.

“Um, Mrs. Willis, I…”

She flinches at the name.  “Katherine,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d prefer you call me Katherine.”

He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles.  “Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,” he murmurs.

She can’t help but lift her right eyebrow.  It used to irritate her husband immensely when she pulled faces, as he called it.  “Rather Kate the Curst,” she replies.

His eyes widen and seem to brighten.  “You know Shakespeare?”  

“You look surprised.”

“No, no, it’s just...I haven’t had much opportunity to discuss the Bard out here.  Apologies for the Taming of the Shrew reference, but whenever I come across a Katherine, I can’t help but make the association.  Especially when it’s not altogether untrue.”

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks with the compliment that she knows is entirely unwarranted.  She was never very pretty.  Her mother used to complain about how wild and curly her hair was when she was a child, not to mention the dreadful freckles across her nose and cheeks.  It may have been quite some time since she’s been in the presence of a looking glass, but she doesn’t need one to know that her appearance is lacking.    

“I suppose I could have just as easily been a Viola or an Ophelia,” she says, avoiding his flattery.

“Hopefully not a Lady MacBeth.”

“No.”  The conversation stalls momentarily, but then she wets her lips and tightens her shawl again.  “You said there was something you came to speak with me about?”

“I was away on some business when Old Man...ah, that is, when Mr. Goodwin, the previous owner of your land, passed on.  I’d been eyeing this parcel for some time and had been planning to offer Mr. Goodwin a sum to sell it to me.  I’d like to make you that same offer.”

“Ah.”  She closes her eyes and chuckles mirthlessly for a brief moment.  “I’m afraid I can’t take that offer.”

“Have you sold to someone else?”

“No, but I’m not in a position to sell.  My husband leased this land and I have every reason to doubt he ever made good on the rent.  He drank most of the money and gambled what was left of that.”

“I see.”  

“I’m just biding my time now until the bank comes to collect and turn me out.”

“Do you have people back...wherever it is that you're from?”

“Virginia.”

“It’s not but a few days ride to Fort Worth, I could send a wire to someone for you.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“No.”  She shakes her head slowly and sighs.  “There’s no one back home, but thank you.”

He shifts his feet and tries to speak, but he says nothing.  He looks dumbfounded in a way that almost makes her feel sorry for him.

“Was that all?” she asks.

“Ma’am,” he stammers.  “Mrs. Willis...Katherine...I can’t...I can’t…”

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but she reaches out and puts her hand over his where it grips the brim of his hat.  He falls silent and stops his fidgeting.  She squeezes his hand lightly and lets her fingers rest against his wrist for a few moments before she takes it away.

“Since you seem familiar with the bank man,” she says.  “I’m sure you’ll get your wish soon enough.”

“But…”

“Good day to you, Mr. Mulder.  Thank you for coming.”

[hylianengineer]

Hello, friends, acquaintances, and people who are lurking on my blog for god-knows-what-reason! I’m guessing some of ya’ll need to hear this as much as I did: you know how economic forces have done really shitty things to the environment? Well, companies now have incentives to clean up their act: renewable energy is cheaper than fossil fuels, often it’s even cheaper to replace existing fossil fuel capacity than to keep running it! Clean energy is creating jobs faster than coal jobs are being lost. And that’s not even getting into the economic costs of climate-change related health problems and associated loss of work days.

A professor from Duke University presented testimony last August (2020) to the US House of Representatives Committee on Oversight and Reform arguing for the economic benefits of keeping climate change to the 2℃ goal set by the Paris Climate agreement. And that testimony contained this statement:

“It is sometimes claimed that we face a choice between the environment and the economy. This is false. Ask a delivery truck driver how easy is it to get their job done when it’s 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Find a construction worker hammering down a roof in the blazing sun in Texas and ask them how well they work when it’s 110 and humid. Ask a worker on a farm or on a giant factory floor too large to be air conditioned how many breaks they’ll need when temperatures rise even more in the summertime. Adding in the impacts of breathing dirty air, these productivity losses cost American businesses billions each year. The environmental costs of climate change and air pollution are also passed on to all businesses who pay in their higher health and damage insurance costs. Hence it’s not a question of choosing the environment or the economy – it’s choosing a healthy environment and a strong economy or a polluted environment and a weaker economy” (Emphasis mine).

Read that again: “It is sometimes claimed that we face a choice between the environment and the economy. This is false.” 

Mind-blowing, right? We don’t see this perspective very often when we talk about climate change. There’s a lot of gloom-and-doom out there. But to me, this represents hope. This means that the same market forces that have caused so many of these problems are now being utilized to help minimize the damage. Yes, it’s true that we still have a long and difficult journey ahead of us. Yes, it’s true that this doesn’t erase the damage that’s already been done. But it’s something. It’s hope, and I’m going to cling to it like my life depends on it because my sanity does. I hope it’ll give some of you hope too. 

Source: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwjdwabn6t7yAhXNdd8KHZc-AE0QFnoECAIQAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fnicholas.duke.edu%2Fsites%2Fdefault%2Ffiles%2Fdocuments%2FShindell_Testimony_July2020_final.pdf&usg=AOvVaw1k9EJGhxAANqHw7S5DGWbY 

And that source contains lots of citations for its claims as well as a detailed explanation of how they’re using climate change models to predict this stuff, so check it out if you’d like more info. The whole thing is a great read.

[obxparadise]

Rebel Love Song

JJ Maybank x Female Reader 

Word count: 3,836

~JJ’s had enough of his abusive father and life on the Cut, so he tries to convince you to run away with him~

Song: Rebel Love Song by Black Veil Brides 

A/N: Leave a comment please :) 

*GIF is not mine, but found on Google. Creds to the owner!*

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

I cannot hide what’s on my mind

I feel it burning deep inside

A passion crime to take what’s mine

Let us start living for today

“You are a worthless piece of shit.”

“Shut up!”

“Your mama knew!”

“Shut up!”

JJ’s fist strikes his bedroom door, although he wishes it were his father’s face. It probably wouldn’t be as painful, and he’d feel good about it. But his dad would retaliate like he always did, and JJ’s face couldn’t handle another black eye or split lip. Luke had already done a number on his face twenty minutes prior.

Luke turns up the volume of whatever rock song is playing throughout the house, and JJ clutches the sides of his head, digging his palms into his temples, the thoughts in his head drowning out the song. What the hell was he listening to anyway? Judas Priest? Black Sabbath? He had no fucking clue.

He should be used to it all by now. The loud music. The constant drinking. The verbal violence. The physical abuse. The mental manipulation. It’s been going on for years. And there’s no way to stop it.

The cut on JJ’s lip burns as a salty tear mixes with the dried blood. He drags his fingers across the bottom of his lip, wincing. Thirty grand in restitution for a boat he didn’t even sink. He should’ve seen the punch coming, anticipated it as soon as he slid in the passenger’s seat of the beat up pick up truck. But it happened so fast, over and over, until Luke’s knuckles were painted red with blood.

He doesn’t regret taking the blame, though. Even if he now has to scramble to come up with thirty thousand dollars, JJ’s glad that he did the right thing for once in his life. Pope was a good kid, had too much to lose. But JJ? He had nothing.

The music dies down in the living room and JJ peers toward the door, heart hammering against his chest as he waits for Luke to bust into his room. His fists are balled by his sides, ready to attack if necessary, but the door never opens.

JJ takes it upon himself to crack open the door, just enough for him to peer out into the living room and see Luke passed out on the sofa. Empty beer bottles are scattered along the coffee table and a pill bottle is just barely sitting in Luke’s hand that dangles off the couch. Just another typical Tuesday in the Maybank household.

It’s times like these JJ wishes he wasn’t an only child. Although he’s glad no one else is subjected to Luke’s abuse, the house gets lonely. Talking to his father is impossible. His mother is nowhere to be found, and he resents her for leaving him to live with a monster, to fend for his life.

He could always talk to his friends, though.

Ah, scratch that. They’re all busy tending to their own lives.

Pope’s in and out of scholarship interviews.

Kiara’s working overtime at the Wreck.

John B is glued to Sarah Cameron’s hip.

But there’s one more person left. One person that would always make time for him. One person he could confide in no matter the circumstances.

JJ retrieves his phone from the back pocket of his shorts, typing out a quick message.

Can you meet me at the dock?

He smiles as your name pops up on the screen, promising to meet him in ten minutes.

~

You watch from afar as JJ stands at the edge of the dock throwing rocks into the bay. The sun has begun to set, the sky now painted a light orange and pink, and there’s a slight chill in the air thanks to the open water. Tugging the sleeves of your hoodie down to cover your hands, you shuffle quietly along the wooden boards.

JJ’s body instantly relaxes when your arms circle his middle, forehead resting against his back. The cologne on his body mixed with his natural scent is what keeps you still against him until he turns around to hold you. He needs this hug. You can just tell.

“I owe thirty grand for sinking Topper’s boat.” His voice is defeated, arms limp around your body.

Wherever trouble was, JJ found it. He was always getting into scuffles with the teenagers on the other side of the island, parents turned their noses down at him, and the cops had no problem blaming JJ for crimes he didn’t commit. The boy was an easy target.

You shake your head, refusing to believe his story, but asking the question anyway. “Why’d you do it?”

JJ pulls away, stuffing his hands in his pockets, eyes downcast on the dock. He doesn’t want to tell you the truth, but you have a guess as to who he’s protecting. “Just sick of everyone treating us differently because we live on the poor side of the island. Money isn’t everything, but it’s all these people on Figure Eight know.”

He’s not wrong. The rich kids on Figure Eight can’t separate fantasy from reality. They’ve never known struggle. They’ve always had designer clothes, food on the table, a roof over their heads, plus the perks. Motorcycles. Boats. Cars. Status. Friends. Opportunities. So much more than the average person could afford, or wish for.

And you were one of them.

It’s a wonder how you and JJ became friends. You knew of his hatred for rich kids before you’d even met him. But JJ saw something in you. You weren’t like the rest of them. You had a pure heart, kind soul. Being rich wasn’t a personality trait for you.

“I just,” Dragging a hand through his hair, JJ gazes at you sadly. His frown tugs at your heart. “I just want to get away, you know? I can’t hide it, but I’ve had thoughts about leaving the Cut, the OBX in general.”

Now that’s something you never would of thought would come out of JJ’s mouth. He lived and breathed the Outerbanks. He didn’t know anything else.

“Where would you go?”

He takes a seat on the end of the dock, feet dangling just above the water. You join him, sitting close, head on his shoulder, toes skimming the cool water.  “Paris. England. The Yucatan,” JJ chuckles, nudging you. “That’s long term.”

“What about now?”

JJ exhales, thinking hard. “Maybe Florida. Or Texas. California, possibly. I want to go somewhere warm, like OBX, with a beach and some palm trees,” JJ looks down at the top of your head, resting his cheek on your hair. Your presence calms him. “And I’d take you with me.”

He knocks the breath out of you. You were never one to plan for the future, but the future is all JJ can think about it. And he sees you in his future, wherever he decides to be. How could you possibly tell him that the life that was destined for you would always be in the Outerbanks, breaking his heart in the process?

“Don’t you want to start living? The way we want to?” JJ asks softly, fingertips grazing your leg. Goosebumps rise on your skin at his intimate touch.

“I already am,” you say, considering his words. “My life is here, JJ. I can’t leave it behind.”

“No, it’s not,” JJ retorts instantaneously, voice unwavering. “This life you’re living? It’s not yours. It’s your parents’.”

Bringing your knees to your chin, you reposition yourself to look at JJ, whose staring out at the bay, blue eyes scanning the water, tuffs of blonde hair dancing in the breeze. It’s the first time that night you really took notice of his face. Dried blood dots the corner of his mouth, and a purple bruise rings around his eye. There’s a tick in his jaw and his fingers drum quickly on his leg. He’s tense. “How so?”

He’s never been anything other than blunt. He hides nothing, letting you know how he thinks, what he feels. “Because you don’t stand up to them. They drag you to yacht parties on the weekend because you’ve never told them who your real friends are. They think Susie Milligan and Delia Pratton are your best friends, except they have no idea that you can’t stand them and would rather be surfing with Kie and John B. They make you stay in and study your dad’s old college textbooks, convinced you’re going to be the world’s greatest attorney, but you complain to Pope that the material is dry and you’ll never be happy working as a prosecutor.” Pulling a cigarette from his pocket and then lighting it, JJ takes a drag, puffing out the smoke before turning to face you. “You let them dictate what should be your life. What is it that youwant to do? You never talk about the future, but one day it’ll be here, and it’s sooner than you think.”

His eyes are focused as he waits for you to consider his question. The truth is, you know what you want, but you’ve never said it aloud. No one ever cared to ask, except for now. Except for JJ.

“I want to be a marine biologist,” you’re confident in your answer, and it leads you to spill more. A weight lifts off your shoulders. “I want to go to school in Hawaii or Australia and learn about animals, nature, sea life. I want to surf, fish, and wear flowers in my hair, embrace my free spirit.”

JJ’s smile encourages you. Opening up to him is so easy because he understands. He listens. And he wants the same freedom as you do. The only difference is, JJ will chase after his dreams.

“I want to learn how to play guitar, climb a mountain, run a marathon, learn Chinese, ride in a hot air balloon,” you take a second to catch your breath, feel the chill of the breeze on your legs. “I want to find love. Maybe get married, have a kid or two. Adopt five kittens. Build my own home with a pool that has a waterfall. I want to try escargot, visit a rainforest, and see the Northern Lights. I want so many things, JJ.”

“Then let’s do it,” JJ says, standing and pulling you to your feet. A smile lights up his face as he grabs your hands in his. It’s the happiest you’ve seen him in the last hour, but it contrasts with what you feel inside. “Let’s start living.”

~

Never gonna change my mind

We can leave it all behind

Nothin’s gonna stop us

No not this time

“Hawaii, huh?”

You look up from your soup. Kiara leans against the bar top, watching you curiously. JJ has gone off to the bathroom, the perfect opportunity for Kiara to grill you with questions.

“He seems pretty adamant,” she remarks, flipping hair over her shoulder. “What’d you say?”

The spoon clinks against the metal bowl as you set it down, dabbing your lips with a napkin. “I didn’t answer.”

“Don’t you think you should?” Kiara asks, playing with the beads on her bracelet. “From what JJ said, he seems pretty sure that wherever he goes, you’re following.”

“Oh, he’s set on us moving to the west coast, but I can’t just leave the OBX,” you counter, shoulders slumping. “My life is here.”

“Then why did you tell him all the things you wanted to do if you don’t ever plan on doing them with him?”

The million-dollar question.

“Because I knew he’d listen,” you say quietly. “I didn’t think he was serious about us leaving together, though. We’re sixteen, Kie. What sixteen year olds do you know drop everything and leave their home behind? And besides,” your laugh comes out strangled, “My parents would never let me leave. You know how they are. They don’t even like that I’m friends with JJ. They think he’s trouble, a bad influence. How do you think they’d react if I just up and left with him?”

Kiara leans in close, whispering, “That’s why you don’t tell them.”

You roll your eyes as Kie laughs. “I’m not going to change my mind on this, Kiara.”

Her face turns serious as she chews on the corner of her lip. The gears turn in her head as she contemplates. “Would it matter if I said JJ’s in love with you?”

Your eyes roam her face, waiting for a laugh, a smile, a teasing wink, but her composure is kept intact as she stares at you. Your face falters. “He—what?”

She nods. “What boy asks a girl to travel the world with him if he’s not in love with her?”

Color creeps up your neck, mouth dry, heart beating irregularly. Your body is jelly, almost sliding off the bar stool, but you slink back further into the chair, hands gripping the arm rests. “Are you sure?”

“If I was a gambler, I’d bet it all. That’s how sure I am.”

“I—no,” you dig in your purse for some cash, slapping the bills down in haste. “I’m either going to disappoint JJ or my parents, and I can’t disappoint my family. So, no, JJ being in love with me doesn’t change anything,” you say, exhaling a breath. “I’m not going with him.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

Kiara’s eyes expand, and you freeze. JJ’s boots pad against the floor as he pushes through the front door, angrily stomping into the night. You thank Kiara for the dinner before rushing outside to chase a visibly irritated JJ.

“JJ, wait!” Your hand clamps down on his shoulder, spinning him around. The look on his face is disheartening. You try to cradle his cheeks, something you normally did to comfort him, but he pushes your hands away. “Please, stop.”

“You were never planning to come with me, were you?” JJ questions, twirling a few of the rings on his fingers. “You were just…what? Entertaining me?”

“JJ, my life is here, in the OBX!” The words that use to flow perfectly off your tongue don’t even sound right anymore. Part of you doesn’t believe them. “I can’t just leave it all behind. And my parents…God, JJ, they’d never let me go with you. I mean, we’re so young.”

JJ nods, although he doesn’t understand. He knows you. He knows your heart. He knows where you really stand. But he can’t persuade you anymore than he’s tried. “I’m taking my dad’s boat and I am leaving tomorrow. I’m getting out of here because I know what I want and nothing is going to stop me.”

JJ turns, and your heart squeezes as you watch him leave. Your fingers twitch, begging to reach out to him. This can’t be it. He can’t be leaving you. “Is it true?”

He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder.  “Is what true?”

You choke back a soft cry, voice croaking. “Are you in love with me?”

JJ faces you, staring absentmindedly. He wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms, kiss your breath away. But he keeps his distance, shoving his hands back into his pockets, whispering, “It doesn’t matter, because it wouldn’t be enough, anyway.”

~

Back home, you’re surprised to see your parents still awake, chatting softly at the island in the kitchen. You hastily wipe away any leftover tears before they can hound you with questions.

“You’re home late,” says your father, giving you a look. He’s the stricter parent of the two. “I assume you have a good reason?”

You keep the conversation short. “I got caught up talking to JJ. I lost track of time.”

Your mother wrinkles her nose, wine sloshing in her glass as she takes a sip. “How many times have we told you to stay away from that boy, Y/N? He’s trouble.”

“He’s not trouble,” you fire back, wishing you had come up with a lie instead of telling them the truth. “You’re just judgmental.”

“That’s enough,” your father snaps. He runs a hand over his tired face. Being an attorney has aged him ten years. And to think he wanted to send you down the same dreadful path. “I’m having lunch tomorrow with DA Lance Nicholas. I figured you could come along, ask him some questions--.”

“No.”

Your mother stares at you quizzically. “No?”

“Is tomorrow a bad time?” asks your father, loosening his tie. “I’m supposed to meet with him next week as well, if that’s better for you.”

You feel the rage building up inside of you as you remember JJ’s words. You let them dictate what should be your life. What is it that you want to do? “No, dad, there will never be a time that’s good for me to meet the DA, because I don’t want to meet him. I don’t want to be a lawyer.”

You’re sure they’ll yell, give you a hard time, but the laughs that come out of their mouths are surprising. You don’t understand why they’re laughing, but you’re determine to stand your ground, speak up.

“You’ve never once asked me what I wanted to do with my life.”

“Well, yes, because—.”

“Because you planned it for me.”

Your mom glances at your dad, unsure of how to continue the conversation. “Sweetie--.”

“I’m not going to law school,” The light dims in your father’s eyes, face growing red as your tone grows serious. He’s silent, but it doesn’t scare you. “Because I want to be a marine biologist.”

“Honey, listen,--.”

“I want to travel, see what the world has to offer me. I’m tired of being your puppet. I’m tired of pretending to like Susie and Delia. I’m tired of going to stupid yacht parties with out of touch rich people. I’m tired of reading college textbooks about a career I don’t even want while I’m still in high school. This is my life, and you don’t get to choose how I live it.”

Your mom speaks up after what feels like an hour of silence. Her eyes are full of sorrow, voice low, disapproving. “What happened to you? You’re so…outspoken.”

“It’s that damn Maybank kid,” your dad’s forceful voice cuts right through you. He slams his fist on the counter, startling your mom. You stand your ground, unflinching. “I always knew he’d corrupt you sooner or later.”

“Corrupt me?” A laugh escapes you. He can’t be serious. “He helped me, dad. He taught me to stand up for myself, which is what I’m doing right now. He taught me that there’s a life outside of our world in Figure Eight. JJ helped me realize that I don’t belong here,” your mother’s face drops. Guilt briefly flickers across your face. “I belong with him, wherever he goes. Whether it be California or Texas or Hawaii. I belong with him.”

“You are sixteen years old,” your father reminds, looking at you in disgust. “You have no clue what you’re talking about or what you are doing. Go on, get out of my sight.”

You shake your head, turning your back on your parents. It didn’t matter what they said. They wouldn’t be able to stop you from chasing your dreams, from living your life the way you wanted to. They could say you were too young, too naïve, until they were blue in the face. But you know what you want, and no one, especially not your parents, would stop you.

~

So take your hand in mine

It’s ours tonight

This is our rebel love song

Staring down at the note in your hand, you exhale a sigh before dropping it on the kitchen counter. You sign it with a kiss, letting your family know you love them, before venturing outside, quietly closing the door behind you.

The last night in your house was spent packing, constantly checking that your bedroom door was locked to keep the helicopter parents away. There wasn’t much you could fit into the duffel bag, but you squeezed as much as you could, the contents varying from clothing to toiletries to small mementos you didn’t want to leave behind.

The plan was to surprise JJ at the dock. Tugging your duffel higher onto your shoulder, you walk with a content smile.

When you reach the dock, your heart rises to your throat. JJ stands with his back to you, one foot on the dock, the other in the boat. He’s ready to take off, and your legs break out into a sprint, daring him to leave you behind. “JJ!”

The voice makes his ears perk up. He turns, wide-eyed, smile brighter than the gleaming Carolina sun. JJ’s heart swells as he watches the girl he loves run after him, one hand waving frantically in the air, the other tugging the bag higher on her arm.

“JJ, wait!”

But he’s not going anywhere. He’d never go anywhere without you.

You drop the bag onto the dock, launching yourself into JJ’s body. He wobbles slightly, arms coming around your middle, pulling you as far into his chest as you’ll go. You fit perfectly.

“You came,” JJ breathes into your hair, kissing your forehead. The soft pecks are quick, friendly.

It’s not enough for you, though.

You grab his cheeks, pressing your mouth to his, hard. Your heart reacts, beating wildly. The feeling in your body, the sensation you get from kissing JJ, it feels like sunshine. Warm. Blissful. Happy.

There’s no hesitation as JJ kisses you back. His hand creeps up your spine, pressing you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he’s testing to see if you’re real.

It’s all real. You, the kiss, the moment.

He pulls away, slightly breathless. His eyes flicker to the dandelion lying on his drawstring bag, and a smile tugs at his parted lips. He’d picked it for you on his way to the dock, just in case.

“It’s true,” JJ says, reaching down to tenderly pick the flower. Doe-eyed, you watch as he tucks the dandelion behind your ear, shielding the stem with a few strands of your hair. “I am so deeply in love with you.”

“And you were going to leave without ever letting me know.”

“A part of me hoped you wouldn’t let me leave without you,” JJ answers, helping you settle into the boat.

“You’re right,” you smile. “I couldn’t let you leave without knowing I’m in love with you, too.”

The kiss that follows is better than the first. It’s softer, more intimate, and it feels like a rainbow.  

It completes him.

It completes you.

After grabbing your bag from the dock, you help JJ untie the boat before joining him at the wheel. The boat rumbles to life, sailing slowly across the open bay. A new life is just in the distance.

“You ready?” JJ asks. There’s nothing in his eyes other than hope, nothing in his grin other than happiness.

Taking his hand, you smile. “I am now.”

[thisissirius]

Eddie in Vermont please and thank you. 032: "Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death."

of COURSE you want vermont

icicles and SNOW eddie/buck, vermont!verse

Buck’s phone rings. 

Slipping the hammer back in his belt and jamming the pencil between his teeth, he frowns as he stares down at his cell. It’s skidding across the wood, Eddie’s name flashing. Buck rolls his eyes. It’s not like he needs to panic about anything happening to Chris; Bobby’s got him all day, and there’s no way Bobby’s not calling Eddie and Buck. 

When his phone rings again, and then a third time while Buck’s trying to section off the beams, he curses and snatches the phone off the worktable.

“What?”

“Who changed the thermostat settings?” Eddie snaps immediately. Seriously? “I’m freezing to death!”

Buck tries not to bang his head against the not-quite-wall. “Eddie, I love you, but it’s not that cold.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a minute. Two. “I have two blankets and I’m still cold.”

“Nobody messed with the settings,” Buck says, putting the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Chris doesn’t know how, and why would I do that, when you keep calling me to complain?”

Another pointed silence. “You’re the worst husband ever.”

“Uh-huh,” Buck says, narrowing his eyes at the beam. It definitely needs another cut somewhere, and he runs his eyes along the roof. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“You’ve been working on the house for hours already,” Eddie whines. Yep, definitely sulking. “Can’t you come home and cuddle me?”

Buck pauses, smiling to himself stupidly. Eddie knows how to ask for hugs and kisses, does so on a regular basis, so it’s not that. “I thought you were growing to love Vermont?”

Eddie huffs. “That doesn’t mean I love the weather. The house is too big and too cold. Chris isn’t here and you’re at the house and I hate this.”

The house is coming along nicely, Buck reasons. it wouldn’t hurt to cut stuff short today. “Fine. I’ll be home in a half hour. But if we don’t sell this house on time, you don’t get to complain.”

“Can you bring home some dumplings from Bobby’s?”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You just want me to check in on Chris.”

“No!” It’s too quick and Eddie knows it, because he huffs, and says, “fine, but don’t tell him that.”

“I’ll be home soon, dear.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie snaps, and hangs up. 

Buck does swing by Bobby’s for some dumplings. He doesn’t know what it is about them that Eddie loves so much, but Buck’s not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. If Eddie’s stuffing his face with food, he’s not using it to complain about how cold Vermont is. 

You could just move, Bobby had told him once. 

Eddie’s face, and Chris’ quick refusal, had been the only answer Bobby needed. 

Eddie likes to complain about Vermont; the weather, the trees, etc etc, but when it comes to actually leaving the state? He’s quick to point that as if he’d move anywhere without Chris and Buck. 

(Buck knows they’re going to retire in Vermont.)

Chris knows exactly why he’s in the diner, and sighs. “Dad needs to get a life.”

“You and I know that,” Buck says, leaning across the counter. Bobby smacks his hand before he can steal a cookie. “Your dad just needs time.”

Chris sighs. Buck smothers a laugh behind his hand, thanking Bobby for the dumplings he passes across in a bag. “Tell Dad I love him?”

“Will do,” Buck promises, and presses a kiss to the top of Chris’ head. “Have fun with Harry.”

Eddie looks ridiculous.

He’s swathed in blankets on the couch, hair sticking up in  myriad of directions, like he’s been buried. The house is, actually, not that hot and Buck frowns. “Did you turn up the thermostat?”

“No,” Eddie says, grumpy, “I thought I’d leave it fucking freezing just to make a point.”

“Well,” Buck starts, avoiding the kick Eddie aims at him when he passes, and heads for the thermostat. It’s definitely saying it’s supposed to be hotter, but the house is pretty cold. “Your house is a money pit, Diaz.”

“Shut up, Diaz,” Eddie says, looking at Buck over the top of the back of the couch. He looks ridiculous, frankly, and Buck laughs gently. “You’re my contractor husband; if it’s broken, it’s your fault.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll fix it later.”

Eddie pouts. “Why not now?”

“Because now,” Buck says, resting the dumplings on the table in front of the couch. “Is time to eat.”

“You brought them,” Eddie says, tugging the bag towards him. He still looks ridiculous, so Buck has to lean in and kiss him. Eddie hums against Buck’s mouth, lifting a hand to Buck’s shirt and holding him in place. “What was that for?”

“I love you,” Buck says easily, sliding in under the blankets next to Eddie. “Even when you’re being dramatic about the weather.”

“It’s so cold,” Eddie whines, but he nestles close to Buck, cradling the styrofoam container of dumplings on his lap. 

Wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, Buck kisses his temple, stealing one of the dumplings and focusing on the TV. It’s a show about trails in Vermont and Buck smiles. “This looks interesting.”

Eddie shrugs, shovelling a dumpling and sauce into his mouth. He lets out a noise that doesn’t belong outside of the bedroom in Buck’s opinion, and then smirks at Buck. “I need somewhere else to walk when you piss me off.”

“I, the husband who brings you dumplings, could piss you off?”

“You do when you’re so inconsiderate about me being cold!”

“You lived in Texas,” Buck points out, “not the Sahara Desert.”

Eddie kicks him. “I hate you.”

Buck rubs his finger over Eddie’s wedding ring. “No you don’t.”

While Eddie polishes off the rest of the dumplings, pointedly not offering Buck any or answering him, Buck plays with Eddie’s hair, watches the showcase of the Green Mountains and their wonderful trails. When he’s done, Eddie drops the styrofoam back onto the table and turns to Buck. 

“I don’t actually hate it,” he says quietly. “Vermont, I mean.”

“I know.” Buck keeps his voice just as low. 

“I also don’t hate you,” Eddie says, leaning in for another kiss. He tastes like Bobby’s famous sauce, and Buck licks into his mouth, hand on the back of Eddie’s head tightening in his hair. When they part, Eddie’s eyes are dark. “Want me to show you how much I don’t hate you?”

It’s ridiculous, but Buck laughs, dips in for another kiss. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

[halo-jpeg]

Could you by any chance, do slashers with a shy, twink SO?

I love this yes!!! I FINALLY finished this, jeez!!! This took a looong time. All my asks all for all the slashers I write for so it’ll take a long time for me to get the content out! Sorry for the wait!

Slashers with a Shy Twink S/O

Michael Myers

He’s a sucker for height differences, so a short guy is absolutely his type. He’d hold you close at all time, sitting you in his lap and never letting you get up.

You’re shy? That’s perfect, who needs to go outside into society anyways? He’d much rather keep you at home where he can make sure you’re safe, so don’t worry about having to go talk to people other than him.

Will protect you until the end of time. He’s super paranoid that you’ll be hurt or attacked for any and all reasons, so he’ll be close by no matter what, making sure no one makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Whether it’s comforting or unnerving to know hes always close by, it’s the undeniable truth. Just shout for him and he’ll be there. Dip momentarily into a quiet place and he’ll be there. Talk aloud, he’ll hear you.

Jason Voorhees

Right away he knows you’re different from other campers. You’re short, fragile, and completely afraid to be out with the other teenagers. You aren’t as overly-confident and obnoxious like they are so that grants you bonus brownie points.

Again, you’re fragile and small, along with the purest babey in the world. The forest is dangerous; even before you know Jason is there he’ll be protecting you.

After you actually meet and get to know each other, he’ll be at your side no matter what, even if trespassers need to be dealt with. If it makes you happy he’ll do whatever you want him to.

He’s pretty shy himself, when he isn’t killing of course. He understands the whole ‘not too keen about attention’ stuff, so he does his best to keep trespassers away unless you want to be with them- until they’re killed.

Brahms Heelshire

He L O V E S Y O U. You are the cutest most adorable little thing hes ever seen and he will 100% love and cherish every single little thing about you.

You’re so tiny compared to this tower of a man and he LOVES to tease you about that, leaning his elbow on your head and purposefully placing stuff just too high for you to reach.

He’ll curl his entire body around yours like some human cocoon and you’ll be stuck there until he says otherwise.

Will always want to have tea parties and is always saying you’d look good as a doll, like his mini-Brahms self. Has scoured the internet for a custom-doll maker.

Billy & Stu

Protectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotect-

Billy likes to tease you for being so small and shy when he’s generally outgoing, and finds it almost weird that you’d go for someone like him. After all, you’re basically polar opposites.

Stu makes you feel loved every second of the day, making sure no one makes you uncomfortable and always asking to hold your hand.

Both boys are so glad to have someone like you tolerate them and their stupidness. They don’t know how they got so lucky.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a big man, and he loves tiny little you and your nervous personality.

He’s always afraid that you’ll get hurt if you leave the house, so you rarely do, and only when he’s with you, glued to your side like a protective tick.

He’ll pick you up and seat you on his shoulder, carrying you around like a parrot or something. Tommy loves to take walks with you like that.

Any and all teasing from his family will result in him punching them. Hard. He won’t take anything, not wen it comes to you because you’re his S/O and no one gets to tease you >:(

Bubba Sawyer

Another sucker for height differences!! He’s TALL, so he’ll always want to compare heights, seeing if you’re going to grow as tall as him some day. Even when you tell him you won’t, he still has hopes that you’ll grow as big and strong as he is.

No matter what Drayton says you are NOT doing any chores that are even remotely dangerous. If you ever try to help hunt trespassers or use a saw or hammer, Bubba will erupt into a series of panicked whining, and then he’ll drag you away into the safety of home.

Even though you’re so small he still likes to be the little spoon sometimes. It makes him feel even more loved and valued than ever. On days where he’s the big spoon, he loves that too, because then he knows you are feeling just as loved.

He’s shy too, so he knows how you feel!! He’ll take you on walks through the sunflower fields if guests ever come over, or if you want to get away from the shouting of his brothers.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Twink? Y E S. Danny is pretty twink-y himself, so you go perfect together. Everything about your personality is entrancing you him.

Will teach you how to use your height and weight perfectly; if you’re short, you’re harder to spot, and you can learn how to walk silently no matter your weight.

Danny is the polar opposite of shy, but he absolutely respects that you aren’t as confident around people as he is. He’s a natural attention whore, so he’ll absorb it all and keep peoples eyes off of you.

Some days where you’re really reluctant to go into public he’s perfectly content with chilling at home with a movie.

Billy Lenz

Will 100% call you Twink. All the time. Every day.

Makes fun of how short you are even though he’s pretty short himself, doing whatever he can do sabotage your daily life while still being convenient for his own- a lot of things are going to be placed just out of your reach.

Shy? Good, you don’t get to go outside anyways. It’s always attic time for Billy, and attic times means him, you, and the rocking chair, much too small for two people.

The ultimate little spoon. Cradle him in your arms or suffer 😡

Leslie Vernon

He’s a very outgoing, loud person; your polar opposite, so he can be a little overbearing. He draws a lot of attention (and loves it all) as well, so you’re often put out when you don’t want to be simply because he doesn’t notice that you’re uncomfortable.

He always makes it up to you with cuddles and love, feeling bad for making you uncomfortable.

Short? Okay. That’s fine, he doesn’t tease you or anything, you’re too good for that.

His favourite thing EVER is planning out his little hunting games. He usually lets you pick out the group (after he’s chosen his final girl, of course). You always think up different ideas than he does.

Vincent Sinclair

L o v e l o v e l o v e

He will cherish every single little thing about you because he’s never seen anyone as naturally perfect as you are.

Models 80% of his wax figures after you!!! There’s a lot of different mini figurines with your features, even if he tries not to let you know that.

He’s so shy, so he doesn’t ever want to go out of the basement. Now, you don’t ever want to leave either, and he loves it. Your personality is so easy to handle, it’s not overwhelming in the slightest and he loves you.

Bo Sinclair

Endless teasing. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this nasty texas man.

He’ll randomly rip things out of your hands and hold them too high for you to reach, laughing all the while.

He can be soft though, and he’s softer around you than anyone else. He’ll cuddle you and tell you how he’ll keep you safe no matter what.

He locks you in your room whenever people stumble across Ambrose. He won’t risk getting you hurt.

Lester Sinclair

You’re just the cutest to him!! Compared to his brothers he’s tiny, so he loves that you are too!

He’ll bring you with him on his work rides, cranking country tunes through his old tinny radio and singing along loudly.

It’s nice and secluded all throughout the work day, so you won’t have to worry about much social interaction.

On the day Lester runs into someone he intends to lure back to Ambrose (like offering a ride) he’ll make sure he takes all the attention, talking non-stop so you didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to.

Norman Bates

He himself is pretty twinky if we’re being honest. You’d totally click personalities.

He’s shy too, so there would never be the problem of having to talk to other people. The two of you make do with simply being around one another.

He’ll read you books and make tea, along with constantly buying you flowers. He’s so in love with you.

The most gentlemanly gentleman on the earth. Absolutely no teasing from this guy, and he’ll beat anyone who teases you to a pulp.

Pyramid Head

S m o l b o i = p r o t e c t

Super territorial and constantly worried about you. If you ever leave his sight he’ll flip, his anxiety blasting through the roof. He’ll spend hours tearing the town apart to find you.

He’ll pat your head as his main sign of saying ‘I love you’. If he could speak he’d shower you with endless praise.

He’s so big and strong and brutal, but when it comes to handling you he’s so careful and gentle, like two different sides of a coin.

[captainsassmanes]

Part 4 to this

Michael woke up feeling like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer. His mouth was so dry it took effort to remove his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Refusing to open his eyes, he buried his head further into the pillows, remembering where he was and choosing to stay in the safety of Alex’s scent for just a little while longer.

The sound of nails tapping against cardboard had his eyes snapping open.

Maria looked beautiful, if not a little tired. The sunlight was streaming in through the blinds, painting her golden, glowing where she sat. Michael lay clutching the blanket while he scanned through every excuse he could think of to explain what she was seeing, why he was there.

“You’re a mess.”

Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sad as she stared at him, making his cheeks flush red. He could only imagine what he looked like.

All he could do was nod and force himself to shuffle into a seated position. He kept his eyes on his hands, fidgeting with the oversized blue comforter, sweaty curls sticking to the back of his neck.

He cleared his throat and risked a quick glance at Maria who remained unmoved with the same, even expression. “How did you know where to find me?”

Sipping her coffee, she tilted her head and licked her lips. “Liz called me. She said you ran out of the diner, really upset. We searched all over last night, tried a few of your regular spots. Kyle suggested this place.”

Michael scoffed. “Traitor.”

Maria shook her head. “Not really. It was like pulling fucking teeth to get it out of him.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, imagining Valenti having a moral dilemma on his behalf.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.”

Michael wasn’t ready for the conversation. He was exhausted and confused but still riding an underlying buzz of fear. Without time to prepare and with Maria’s dark eyes trying to dig into his soul, the truth was the only option.

“Alex left. Again.”

Maria nodded, the set of her mouth relaxing some.

“I didn’t want him to go.”

She leaned over placing her hand on his arm, gently moving her thumb back and forth over the muscle there. “Me neither. None of us did, babe.”

Michael shook his head. He couldn’t think of the right words, couldn’t figure out how to say what he was feeling. Frustration clawed at his insides.

“But you lied to me.”

He held his breath and looked to Maria whose hand still rested on his arm, albeit with a slightly tighter grip. “For years now you’ve made it seem as though you and Alex had a high school thing, hooked up a few times on and off over the years.”

“We did!”

“But that wasn’t all, Michael.” He lost the eye contact, anxiety creeping up his spine. “When I realized I had feelings for you, I beat myself up for weeks. Weeks! I went back and forth, turned it over and over in my head. I wanted to be happy, to have someone in my life who loved me, who wanted me, who took care of me now and then. But how could I do that to Alex? How could I risk losing my best friend?”

She put her coffee down on the bedside table, hands visibly shaking as she regained her composure. “I made my choices, but I used your bullshit as a comfort, Michael. I was able to hide behind the fact that Alex’s feelings for you were one sided, had been for a long time. That you didn’t love him, you loved me, and he’d eventually get over it. Like you did.”

A tear landed on his arm where Maria’s hand had rested moments before. He stared at the wetness, spreading, making the hair on his arm a shade darker.

“You loved him. You still do.”

Michael wiped the dampness on his arm onto the blanket, sniffing and willing away a sudden wave of nausea.

Long, lean fingers pulled at his t-shirt. He watched Maria’s face brighten with a smile. “I bought him this. Gave it to him when he came back home for the first time, years ago. Stupid gag gift.” Michael looked down noticing the shirt he grabbed last night had a picture of a smoking Martian with the caption your planet or mine?

He groaned before tossing his head back and covering his eyes with his arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Michael? For which part?”

Banging his head lightly against the headboard, he mumbled, “for hurting you. For denying the truth. For letting everything get so out of hand. For letting everyone down. Again.”

The room was quiet, Michael’s breathing and the birds happily chirping outside the only noises to be heard.

“Why propose?”

Michael smiled. “Because I love you. You make me happy.”

Maria shook her head. “That makes no sense.”

He sat up higher and twisted his body to see her clearly. “You’re amazing and I’m lucky you ever looked at me twice. I’ve been happy, Maria. You made me happy.”

Maria bit her lip as a tear slid down her cheek, mascara drawing a line in its stead. “I was happy, too. But I’m no one’s second choice.”

He reached out and wiped away her tear. “I’m so sorry, Maria. My history with him is so…complicated. I don’t even know-”

“When I was little, I thought I was gonna marry Alex. Did I ever tell you that?”

Michael chuckled, relieved by the interruption and shook his head.

Maria smiled, too, pushing away another stray tear and wiping her hand on her skirt. “Yeah. I thought he was perfect. Smart but rebellious. Handsome but with his own style. There was no one else like Alex. He was amazing. Is amazing.”

She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “He told me, months ago when this all started, that he couldn’t be angry with me for falling for you. He said it was easy.”

Michael blinked, surprised that Alex would say such a thing. Maria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know that I would say that but…”

They both laughed, Michael’s chest filled with warmth for them both.

“Michael?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s easy to fall for Alex Manes, too.” She slid her hand into his and tucked a piece of paper between his fingers before she stood and grabbed her coffee, throwing her purse over her shoulder.

He turned it over and realized it was a photo, printed on ordinary paper, worn and fuzzy. Michael couldn’t remember taking it, but it was the two of them, him and Alex, faces too close to the camera, but all smiles with their eyes closed in laughter, happiness radiating from them both.

“Where did you get this?”

Maria tipped her head. “I was looking for a tissue. It was in the drawer. Next to his bed.”

Michael’s mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it, biting his lip hard to hold back the sob threatening to burst out.

“You’re an asshole, Guerin. Stay away from the Pony for a while, alright? I need time.”

Michael nodded, that familiar feeling of regret and shame pulling at his throat.

“Now get your ass out of that bed. Shower, shave and put some clean clothes on. If you’re not on the road for Texas in the next hour, I’ll call Isobel.”

She turned, moving toward the door, but stopped suddenly. “If you hurt him anymore, I’ll kill you.”

With that she was out the door.

Michael allowed himself ten minutes to cry. Cry for the end of his relationship, for hurting Maria, for deceiving so many people, himself included. For losing Alex.

But he got his ass up, dried his tears with that ridiculous alien shirt and did exactly as DeLuca told him to.

[joelmillerthirstqz]

marlene, ma’am, i am trying to look respectfully and you are making it difficult. 

Ideal

Extrinsic from all my Joel content but hey, the other Miller is just a different type of pretty and could respectfully get it. Canon leaves Firefly-Tommy pretty open, so I'm electing to believe his idealism saw Marlene's idealism and they mutually went oh, no, they're hot.

-----

Tommy hisses as he lies back against the heap of clothing, cradling a sleeve stiff with the dried blood injured arm beneath.

Marlene paces, hands on her hips in her particular way, the way that said she would be more at ease with her hand on her gun.

Tommy laughs, initially a low chuckle that blooms into a lopsided grin.

“Fucking what, Tommy?” Marlene snaps, irritable and on edge from the night they’d had so far.

Tommy gestures infuriatingly at her whole person, like it explains it, smile not fading. Marlene narrows her eyes to a squint, sizing him up like she’s going to shiv him if he so much as giggles.

“This is a bad situation. We are in a bad situation, because it is snowing, this place is fucking freezing, and you’re laughing,” Marlene lists, gesturing to his splayed legs like they’d particularly offended her.

He adopts a serious face.

“Yes ma’am.”

Marlene gives him an inscrutable look, seeming to take each of his features in one at a time before registering his whole expression.

“C’mon. We’ll be able to get out in the morning. Sure as shit no infected busying themselves with all this,” Tommy encourages, always optimistic. Always a calm different than the edge of control Joel seemed to hold. When Tommy wanted to be at ease, he could still summon it in little bursts. Marlene has been noticing this quality, and how readily he shared it, and biting her own lip to stop noticing it.

Suddenly though, his face darkens.

“Jesus, fine,” he grouses, moving his hands like he’s swatting away a fly.

“Okay, listen,” Marlene gets his attention back.

Tommy looks around as if to indicate his lack of choice.

Marlene pinches the bridge of her nose and looks up at the ceiling like she’s stemming a nosebleed.

“I’m ‘bein’ weird’ because I’m remarkably attracted to you and it is distracting me,” she grits out, like she’s reading off a list. Earlier, he’d thought he murmured the “bein’ weird” comment to himself.

Tommy looks blankly at her and scoffs.

“Fuck, no need to go to that kind of fuss, you can just say it’s a Firefly secret without the theater,” he rumbles.

Yeah, Joel caught him looking and gave him a good-humored nudge earlier in the week. Maybe a few times that week. He didn’t want to fuck this up, so he sat on his hands and overcorrected when he’d slip into flirting with her. He’d gotten intense looks in return, but never the laugh he was hoping to elicit, so he shrugged and assumed she wasn’t noticing or wasn’t interested.

“Hey,” Marlene says, soft offense in her voice. “I’d tell you, if it was that. It’s yours to know, too.” She toys with her pendant, the room incredibly tiny to her now.

Tommy’s eyes widen and he gets to his feet, taking the time afforded by the motion to figure out what to say.

He gestures to himself again, lingering on the blood stains on his shirt, poking the small bun his hair was in, the multiple holsters on his legs. He furrows his brows and raises one as if to ask “you sure?”

Marlene fidgets with her coat, rolling her eyes and trying very hard to look at his eyes.

When her sightline clearly goes to his mouth, Tommy closes the distance and kisses her. He’s gentle, seeming to consider the right way to approach it, but his hand on the back of her neck is firm and makes her shiver. Marlene’s hands fly up to his hair, working her fingers in and dismantling the tie carefully holding his shaggy winter-long hair back.

Tommy advances until Marlene is pinned against the table behind her, each drawing back to catch their breath in the wake of their bodies aligning fully.

“The balls on you to start the night stuck in a storm like that, if you were wrong,” Tommy mumbles against her mouth, getting swatted in the chest for it.

“Texas? Shut up,” Marlene says frankly, nipping his lower lip and going for his coat purposefully.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, shrugging out of it willingly and kissing her with both hands on either side of her face. She’s nearly a foot shorter than him but all animated, electric force, and he wants to rise to meet her.

Marlene presses her tongue into his mouth and he outright moans. Whether it’s just been too long or his crush being consummated was really that good wasn’t something he could say in the moment.

Tommy’s hands traipse over her body, tugging at layers as he goes to get closer as she does the same. He gets enough of a hold on her tongue to suck it, hard, at the same time he gets one hand under her shirt.

A little gasp and a quiet fuck, Tommy and Marlene pulls back, breathing hard and meeting his eyes.

“This isn’t stupid, right?” she asks with sincerity. Tommy looks at her dumbly, flushed across his high cheekbones, spectacularly hard and now very confused.

“I’d uh, prefer it bein’ weird tomorrow over you stayin’ quiet any longer,” he echoes her earlier words and shifts, hands not fully off of her. His pupils are huge, but he clears his throat and steps back respectfully.

“Not gonna go tellin’ anyone, if that’s it,” he adds, hearing himself near-whine.

“I haven’t had a lot of normal, I’m sorry. I really like you,” Marlene is the most open he’s ever seen her, voice low. He could listen to the woman talk for hours, might honestly be enough after a few minutes the way his heart hammered now.

“I really like you. Dunno ‘bout normal, but I’d like to kiss you now and continue doin’ so later,” he replies quietly, pulling closer to her again and palming her jaw.

Marlene fists a hand in his shirt and crushes their mouths together. Tommy lets her lead him a moment before pulling back again. Marlene grunts in frustration at him, thinking they’d gotten everything out of the way.

“Just don’t want to shoot you,” he explains, disarming and laying out weapons on the shelf in what he was realizing now was a stand-alone guest house. Marlene’s quick tension melts into a laugh as he smiles at her, pretty blue eyes sparkling.

Fuck, that’s going to be hard to ignore around the others, she thinks. Then again, he’d passed the difficult to ignore threshold weeks ago when Luce had shoulder-checked her for incautiously staring at all of him as he walked away. Marlene spent the rest of the day thinking about the breadth of his shoulders every time she’d had a moment to collect her thoughts between issuing orders and keeping a frequently hobbled organization alive, to her extreme chagrin.

Tommy eyes her impatiently as she does the same, unclasping a holster replete with a row of shivs and tossing it aside. He quirks a smile, familiar with her usual arms, but still finding it endearing as hell in this new context. Endearing for a woman orchestrating an insurgent group; endearing for a woman whose proud thrust of the chin made his spine stiffen before he realized the full extent of why. He’d not noticed she was a full head shorter than him before, never felt relevant. Until, tonight, he was relieved of the burden to avoid thinking of ways to please them both.

She barely has time to toss it aside before his hands reach her thighs and haul her up onto the table. Marlene smiles bigger than he’s seen, and it’s almost a shame to cover her mouth with his until he feels her.

Marlene strokes the roof of his mouth pointedly and he leans his weight into her to avoid his knees buckling. Tommy kisses her back with just as much need, yanking her sweatshirt’s metal zipper down so hastily it’s slightly warmed as it goes.

Meanwhile, Marlene gets through his shirt’s buttons with no problem, finding him cooperative in shrugging one shoulder and arm free. She pauses carefully when she gets to his injured arm, looking up at him for permission to finish removing it, irrespective of her ankles locked behind his hips already.

Tommy burrows his forehead into her opposite shoulder, kissing along her clavicle and tugging her shirt to expose the top of her back. Marlene efficiently removes the fabric, avoiding too much contact.

“Tommy, I need to wrap this,” she murmurs into his hair.

“Hmm?” he looks up at her like he hadn’t torn himself open while prone on a broken patch of floor enough to need stitches.

“Let me,” she untwines her legs, Tommy almost pouting, shifting his belt to accommodate the loss of friction.

“Here,” she identifies a packaged sponge from a shelf nearby—close enough to sterile—and tears the bloodied end off of Tommy’s shirt. He watches her with consuming focus, eyes on her neat eyebrows, gorgeous lips…not wincing as she tugs the makeshift bandage tight. Without taking his eyes off of hers, this woman that made him think hope was even conceptually in his grasp, he thinks it might hold through the night.

Marlene looks back up at him when she’s done, and Tommy doesn’t bother to inspect her work, kissing her and pushing her right back where they were on the table. She likes watching him move, and more now, loves the feel of it. His stomach is all wonderful cords of muscle between her thighs, and his callused hands stretch and flex over her abdomen, begging their way higher.

He catches both nipples in his index and thumbs and she bites his lower lip in instant reciprocation, fingers at his belt. Tommy pulls her shirt off without patience, bra following once he accepts that there’s no clasp and it has to go over her head. He runs his fingertips down the length of one leg appreciatively. Marlene adores his complete lack of focus—he’s fully with her, taking the chance to feel everything he can as its presented. She wants to do the same to him.

Tommy grunts in irritation when his fingers find the top of her hiking boots, realizing they both still have boots on and they’d have to pull apart again. He kneels and sits back on his heels, pants open, and pulls one boot into his lap, tearing at the laces. Marlene watches him appreciatively, something remarkably sweet about and absolutely unnecessary—he can absolutely just bend her over the table, now—but he finishes quickly.

“C’mere,” she reaches out to him, intending to be polite. She tugs off her boots with practiced ease, dropping them to the floor.

Tommy steps towards her, jerking one boot off with one hand in a practiced separating of his laces, toeing it with his other foot. He repeats it and doesn’t return to her waist, instead snatching at both ankles and pulling her jeans away in one motion before moving between her knees. Marlene inches close to him, first knuckles hooked greedily in his pants and tugging him closer.

He takes to one knee, urging her leg over his shoulder and kissing her thigh before resting his head on it and giving her a pointed look. Marlene nods, sighing into the warm oscillation of his fingers outside her underwear. He sucks her through them, pulling her lips into his mouth and causing her to jump.

“Fuck!” she hisses, tilting her hips and wriggling closer to the sensation. Tommy hooks his thumb inside and draws them to one side, tongue following closely along his path.

He works slowly, appreciatively, pretty blue eyes watching her face as he slips his tongue just past her entrance. Marlene sighs and shakes, dropping her knee over his shoulder. He huffs a laugh through his ministrations and laps at her openly, bringing his fingers up to stroke her, trying just one at first.

“Tommy—” Marlene starts, temporarily distracted by his fingers finding the right spot to press on all of her nerves, “please, please,” she finishes weakly, losing her train of thought.

Tommy rises suddenly, fingers still playing at her, curling inward once he worked them in fully.

“I’m not planning on stoppin’ tonight,” Tommy starts, cut off by Marlene kissing him again, voracious. He was starting to notice how determined she looked before she’d lunge in at him, and it turned up the corners of his mouth to be the target of it.

Fuck it, Tommy thinks, getting his cock free and lining up to her, reciprocating her kisses all the while. He tries to pull back, ever careful and more mindful this far into the apocalypse to not compromise anyone’s ability to dead-sprint. Marlene scratches the nape of his neck as she tugs his hair, anchoring him back and gripping his shaft to guide him in. They moan together, open-mouthed and adjusting to the angle and each other.

Tommy grips her hips and thrusts a little erratically, hilariously close. Marlene holds onto him, the sensation and stretch of him making her mouth fall open with soft sounds in his ear.

“Get on your back, Miller,” Marlene hisses, nipping his ear.

Barely slowing his pace, Tommy looks amused, then comprehending, then stirred up. He pulls out, breathing hard, and does what he’s told. Marlene strips off her remaining layers before making her way over to him, a nest of their clothing slowly accumulating where he leaned back on his hands.

Tommy’s throat goes dry—she’s scarred from things he witnessed. Composure and strength radiates off of her. He sits forward involuntarily, getting kicked gently in the chest for it. Unlike the relatively well-behaved Southern girls in his past, Marlene wasn’t looking to him to lead the whole time. That, and the intensity of trust between them made him like an animal showing its neck to a superior. His back flattens to the ground as Marlene straddles him, wasting no time to tease him.

Tommy arcs until the top of his skull almost touches the floor behind him, the way she rolls her hips and rides him sincerely unprecedented.

“Marlene—” he groans, reaching for her face, wanting her closer, as good as being fucked into the ground feels.

She gives him a warm conspiratorial smile, hands that should be bracing against him actually just taking the opportunity to feel up what she’d suspected was so nice for months. She rolls her head back, chin tipped up and long neck before him. Tommy fans his fingers over her throat, down her sternum, over her abdomen, mouth open with rapt attention.

Marlene cries out, freezing and shivering above him, hips pounding against him every few seconds like it was beyond her control. The way she clenches down on him and rolls her hips combined with her moving above him, sweat beginning to bead—Tommy surges up and captures her mouth.

Once she begins to slacken with the rush of bliss, Tommy slams her down onto him with his hands digging into her ass, hard enough to bruise. It’s less strokes than he’d admit before he urges her of off him and comes with a shout onto his own chest, Marlene’s hand joining his through it. She kisses him through his peak, lamenting that they can’t just come for each other completely tangled up. Tommy leans into her even as she pulls back for a breath, full of need for her.

The chill of their surroundings takes back over as they come down together over minutes, mouths sliding over each others’ lazily, Tommy holding them up, Marlene’s hands in his hair. He trails one hand down to graze her ass, sucking the tip of her tongue as he does. Marlene makes a small surprised sound.

Against her mouth, Tommy murmurs, “I’m completely ready to see what this is about,” smiling up at her with his eyes sparkling as he gives her a lewd squeeze. Marlene silently reaches for his tossed shirt, pulling it around herself to fend off the cold.

She piques an eyebrow with intent, still breathing deeply and reaching to finish getting him undressed as he leans up to her again.