#do you have trigger points? POKE IT WITH A STICK

[messymaelstrom]

I've only had this trigger point massaging stick for 3 days but if anything ever happened to it I would kill everyone in the room and then myself

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shots

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda cries

You lift your arms up and Pernille swings you up into your car seat, buckling you in. You wiggle happily and Pernille pulls a silly face at you to get you laughing.

At a few months past one years old, you've been successfully booked in for your polio shot.

You've been fairly good all morning and get into the car happily.

Pernille turns around to get the other child in as well.

"Magda," She says," Get in the car."

Her girlfriend stands by the closed passenger door, arms crossed over her chest. "No."

"Magda," Pernille says again," The car. Get in it."

"You can't make me."

"Then don't come." Pernille doesn't really have time for this so walks around to the driver's side. "You can have lunch ready for when we come home."

"No, wait! I'll come!"

Magda finally slides into the seat, buckling herself in and still stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stop with the pout," Pernille says," She's going to get her shot. End of discussion."

"It's going to hurt her!" Magda insists," Why isn't there a spray we can give her? Why haven't they invented that yet?!"

"Because the injection remains the best way," Pernille replies," You can wait outside if seeing her cry really bothers you."

"No!"

Magda paces like a lion as you sit on Pernille's lap while the doctor readies your polio shot.

"It'll be quick," The doctor assures her," She won't even notice it."

You don't, not at first anyway.

Pernille clicks her fingers in the opposite direction to your shot and you tilt your head to follow the sound.

You don't see the needle go in and you don't react at all until Magda bursts into tears. You watch Magda cry and that immediately triggers your own crying.

"Magda," Pernille hisses as she bounces you," Why are you crying?"

"She's crying," Magda blubbers," She's hurt!"

"She's crying because you're crying."

"We're both crying," Magda agrees," Can-Can we cry together?" She holds her arms out for you and Pernille transfers you into them.

You're both sobbing by the time you get into the car and Magda insists on sitting in the back with you while Pernille drives.

Your own tears have petered off by the time you've gotten home though Magda still has a few spilling down her cheeks.

It's a little funny, Pernille thinks, that Magda burst into sympathetic tears thinking you would have already been sobbing which only triggered a wave of your own sympathetic tears straight back at her.

"Feeling better now?" Pernille coos at you as she picks you up out of your seat.

"She seems a bit feverish," Magda says, bottom lip being worried by her teeth," We should take her back. To check her out."

"The doctor told us this might happen," Pernille replies, unlocking the house with you on her hip easily," Which you would know if you'd listened when the doctor told us."

"Are you sure? What if she breaks out in hives?"

"Then we'll take her back but this is normal Magda. She's a little hot but that's fine. Anything else?"

Magda winces. "Her plaster's coming off."

"We've got puppy plasters in the bathroom cabinet. Why don't you grab one and we'll put it on her."

Magda all but runs upstairs to the medicine cabinet and Pernille shakes her head fondly after her.

She bounces you. "Your Morsa is such a worrywart sometimes. Honestly, crying because you got your shot. She's so silly."

You giggle a little bit. "Morsa silly."

"That's right, she is."

Magda comes slipping into the room, sliding along the floor in just her socks and nearly colliding with the tv. "I've got the puppy plasters! Do you want to choose which one you want?"

You lean forward in Pernille's arms as Magda shows you all the options, pointing towards the cartoon version of a spitz style puppy.

"Good choice!"

Magda unwraps it before sticking it straight onto where you've had your shot.

"Look at that, so pretty!"

You giggle again, poking your new plaster and Magda winces.

"Princesse!" She scolds," That will hurt you!"

"She's fine, Magda," Pernille says," She's forgotten it's even happened."

Magda frowns. "But how? It's traumatising!"

"Maybe to you but she doesn't care about much outside of cuddles and food. She's fine."

[writingwisterias]

Movie Nights

Leon Kenndey x Reader (Use's Fem pronouns)

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff! Girl Dad Leon Summary: Leon returns home to his girls who have built a fort and prepared a movie night (I thought of DI! Leon but any will do!)

Leon's keys were loud as he fiddled with the front door, your little girl giggled in your arms - the sound attempted to be muted with your hand over her mouth. Your own giggles threaten to spill as you watch her excitement. "Girls?" Leon's voice thundered through the house. Normally his baby girl would have bounded through the home, racing as fast as she could to launch herself into his arms. But there wasn't the sound of her footsteps slapping against the wood or her distant giggles from wherever she was in the house. His heartbeat quickened slightly panic trying to worm his way into his chest.

You both could hear his footsteps around the house, his biker boots thumping as he checked every room. You both giggled at the loud thud as they came to a stop at the doorway of the room you were in. Leon smiled at the sight of the fairy lights that gave the room a warm glow, only muted by the numerous bedsheets that covered the room creating a fort. His sigh was audible as he freed it, his anxiety now settling; the action making you feel guilty for insisting your little girl hid to scare him. "I wonder where my girl has gone" he chuckled, his words dramatised for effect. Leon's heart swelled as his daughter bounded out of the sheets, starfishing before him as she released the tiniest scream. The intention was to scare him but not trigger any of his PTSD that lingered after all his years of service. He pretended to jump, flinching away dramatically; holding a hand to his chest as he pretended to catch his breath.

You watched as they hugged each other, Leon's frame engulfing hers as he held her. Breathing in the sweet smell of the cheap body mist she insisted he bought her last week, she chirped, "Welcome home, daddy," she chirped in his chest. He muttered his own welcome, the sound muffled in her blonde hair. So, what's going on here, then pumpkin?" he asked her, pointing at the fort before them. The small girl giggled, "Mommy made us a fort to watch movies"

Leon smiled when he saw you, his eyes sparkingly with admiration as he saw your grin. "Did she now? I see you both have your Pj's on" He replied, his fingers rubbing against the soft fabric as he held her. She nodded, her hair flying all over her face as more giggles filled the room. This was why Leon kept fighting, in hopes he could protect the innocence of his little girl; to hide her from all the horrors of the world. "Yes! You have to wear them too or no cookies" She demanded, her little fingers poking his chest to prove her point. "Is that the rules?" He laughed. "No PJs - No cookies....no homemade cookies" You teased, a smile plastered on your features. Leon groaned but complied guiding his daughter back to you as he left to change.

He loved being sandwiched in the middle of the both of you. His little girl resting her head on his lap as she watched the same Disney princess movie, his heart melted every time he heard her voice sing along. Your head rested against his shoulder, your hands entwined as you took in this small little bubble, the fluffy blankets a cushions making it cosy and safe away from everything else if just but a moment. Leon never thought he would get the chance to have this, assuming her would be worked to the bone or drink himself to death. But since finding you, the speed dial on his motorbike lowered, and the levels in all the bottles never dropped, and finally home seemed more welcoming. Even if he did find pink glitter on all of his shirts, the specks sticking to his work boots. His laptop was covered in Disney-themed stickers; his head was constantly filled with that one annoying song he could never get rid of. He wouldn't change it for anything though- this is what he wanted; all tucked away safely in a fort....with Elsa serenading them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Aeternum

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: your life with Lloyd is a lot of work. Or rather, he is.

This is one of my birthday drabbles. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A birthday drabble for Carpe Noctem 

You stare at the small screen of the smart device. The smell of cinnamon fills the kitchen as you stand in wait of the baking desserts. You lean in to get a better view of the news segment. Your ears tweak at the reporter’s words. 

‘The sole survivor remains in the ICU with severe burns but healthcare personnel see a full recovery. As for those who passed, the survivor’s parents, they have been interred in the local cemetery and the service brought out hundred.’ 

They show images of the funeral; flowers, solemn faces, the front of a church.  

“Why are you watching that shit?” Lloyd, as always, knows when to barge in. 

“Alexa, stop playing,” you command the device and the screen returns to rest, showing the time and weather. “Just the news.” 

“I told you not to worry about that idiot.” He grunts as you face him. He tries to cross his arms then puts them straight, shaking out his left. He’s slick with sweat and his workout gear clings to his muscles. “I fucked up. Thought I killed him but the damn cockroach managed to drag himself out. What a pussy. Can’t even save his own parents.” 

“Lloyd. You--” 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, mimi, your soft heart.” He leers at you and winks. “Softer body.” He sticks his tongue out and wince. He bends his elbow and rubs it. 

“What wrong with your arm?” You sigh. 

“Nothing. Old college injury. You know I was varsity, right? Coulda gone national but I made more money... doing something else.” 

“Right,” you sniff and go to the oven. You peer through the lit window at the spiral cookies. 

“What’s the point of me putting in all this work in the gym when you’re just fattening me up?” He scoffs. 

“You don’t have to eat the cookies.” You glance at the time on the small screen above the stove. 

“I have a nose and a stomach. I can’t resist.” He shuffles around the kitchen and surprises you as he comes up behind you. “Just like I can’t resist you.” 

“The cookies are for the shelter.” You stiffen as he wraps his arms around you and pulls your ass against him. “I told you several times not to touch.” 

“Mimi, you’re spending all my money.” 

You huff and look around at the spacious kitchen; stacked ovens, a hug marble island, a fridge with a glass door, a whole other fridge for just wine, and every single appliance you might need but have yet to use. You grab his wrists as he squeezes your hips. 

“I think you have more than enough. What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Have some wine, put on a thong, hop on my dick,” he purrs and rocks you with him, locking his hold on you. “You got your choice. The hot tub, the pool, sauna, hell, sit out in the sun and read one of your Austen joints. Want me to dress up like Darcy? Bit of role play?” 

“Stop,” you push on his arms and writhe. 

“What’s a matter, mimi? You weren’t so shy last night. Or yesterday afternoon. Or after lunch. Or in the morning.” 

You sneer and tear his hands away from your hips. You turn to him and poke his shoulder. He groans and rubs it. 

“Ow, you know that’s still healing.” 

“I told you to go to a real doctor,” you snip. 

“Mimi, they don’t touch me like you do.” He furls his fingers and his throat bobs. He runs his thumbs along his shorts and tugs. “Damn, just the thought—how about a cool down? I just chugged a protein shake, I gotta get it out.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He tilts his head. “Mommy, please.” 

“No, especially if you’re going to pull that.”  

You spin as the timer dings and you grab the oven mitts. You shut off the buzzer and take out the cookies. You put the pan on the counter to cool and hang the mitts again. 

“Mimi...” Lloyd drawls out as he closes in. 

You evade him. Keeping a step ahead as you scurry along the island. He pursues and you turn to face him as you round the corner. 

“I said no. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Why? Because that limp dick is in the hospital--” 

“Stop.” You whine and backpedal away from him as his advance continues. “Lloyd, I’m telling you to stop. I have to make a trip downtown to deliver the cookies--” 

“Really? You do? Because you don’t leave without me. Remember? Those are the rules.” He gets closer and closer.  

You peer around as you feel blindly and walk back on your heels. You pass through the doorway into the front room. You barely dodge the sofa and the little round table next to it. 

“Lloyd.” 

“Mimi.” 

“Leave me alone. I’m telling you.” 

“Keep telling me. It's making me hard.” He snickers. 

You veer through the next doorway and stumble as he lunges. He pulls back and laughs again. He’s taunting you. 

“Oh, I like this game, Mimi.” 

“I’m not playing,” you reach to grab the banister as you step towards the stairs. 

He takes a deep breath and stops. “Neither am I.” 

His smirk sends a chill through you. You freeze at the bottom step and gulp. You look up then back at him. In an instant, you’re barreling up, desperate to get to the top. As your feet slap on the stairs, his treads trail you up calmly. 

Shit. This is the last thing you need. No matter what or when, you always manage to provoke him. Every breath, every blink, every word only entices him. It’s tiring. Without a job, without your friends, it feels like your nothing more than toy. Any search for a different purpose just amuses him. 

You race down the hall. You have to make a quick decision. You burst into the bathroom and spin to swing the door shut. It bounces back as Lloyd shoves his sneaker between it and the frame. He shoves in after you with a taunting grin. 

You stagger back and search for any form of defence. You know it’s pointless. There’s no escape, no fight to be had, but you just want him to let you think for two minutes without mentioning his dick. You grab the bottle of hair spray and aim it at him. You push down and he coughs, waving his hand through the cloud of stickiness. 

He swats the aerosol from your hand and grabs your other arm. You whimper as he wrenches you toward him. He turns and pens you in against the floating counter. He tuts down at you as you push on his stomach. 

“Oh, mimi,” his eyes flick above you. “That’s a great fucking idea.” He grips your shoulder and twists you around to face the counter. “I’d love to watch.” 

He keeps you trapped as you slap a hand on the marble and try to shove him away with the other. He stretches the elastic of his shorts and they fall to his feet. You wriggle as he wraps his arm around you and leans you against the counter. 

His other hand snakes under your skirt. One of the many pieces stocked in your closet. None of them fit right. They all flutter a bit too high on your thigh. 

“Lloyd,” you beg. “Later. Not—now.” 

“Too fucking late. My dick hurts.” 

“Stop!” You throw and elbow back into his ribs. He grunts and nuzzles your hair. 

“Don’t mess around.” He warns. 

He kicks your feet apart and peels your panties down your thighs. The strip of lace strains around your legs. He bends you further as he feels around. He brings his tip down to your cunt and prods you, tapping, and rubbing. 

“Mm, I feel you shaking for me, Mommy.” 

“Please--” you gasp. 

“You don’t gotta beg,” he boats. 

“Urgh, get—off!” You bend your arm awkwardly and once more poke at his shoulder. He exclaims but persists.  

He lines up as he bares his teeth, hooking his jaw over your shoulder. The anger pulses in his forehead as he glares at your reflection. He snaps his hips and impales you with a growl. You cry out and brace the counter as your legs buckle. 

“Ow!” You plead with him in the mirror. Eyes misty, eyes pouting. 

His lips curve deeper as he thrusts, jerking your hip bones into the marble. His hand crawls up to your chest and he squeezes your chest with a snarl. He tilts his head and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He ruts as his eyes blaze back at you from the glass. 

His hand snakes down your stomach and delves beneath your skirt. You hide beneath your eyelids as he finds your clit. He flicks over your hood and you spasm. You mewl as he does it again and again. Worse than his strength is his talent at toying with you. Even as you resist, he finds your weak spot and needles away at it. 

“Mmm,” he purrs as he unlatches his teeth and kisses up your neck. 

His mustache tickles as he pounds against your ass, fingers sliding around your slickness, breath fogging around your chest. Your thighs quiver and your feet arch. You bend forward a little more and he hits just the right spot. 

You cum in a ripple of pathetic moans. You’re breathless and weak. You slump onto your elbow and he growls as you open to him completely.  

He frames your hips and pumps into you until his motion turns erratic. He groans and grunts, digging his nails through the fabric as he pulls out. He cums down your thigh as you hang off the counter.

He lets out a gurgle and snaps his knuckles against your ass. He moves rigidly as he turns and leans his bare ass on the marble beside you. He rubs your back as you gulp and catch your breath.

You stand up but he stops you from grabbing a tissue to wipe up. He’s shameless as his shorts still cling around one ankle. 

“Hey, baby cakes, get my shorts for me? Think I pulled something.” 

You scowl at him as he emphatically clutches his side. You sniff and wave him off. You grab a washcloth and wet it under the faucet. You wipe yourself off and toss the balled fabric into the sink. 

“Pull your own shorts up,” you sneer. 

“I mean it, Mimi, my back’s all sorts of locked up. You got me all bound up.” He gives a pathetic whimper. “Please, take care of me like you always do.” 

You shake your head and squat down to grab the shimmering puddle of shorts. This is ridiculous. He lifts his feet to hook it through and as you tug them up his legs, an odd weight hangs in the flimsy fabric. His dick twitches just as you cover it up and let the elastic snap him meanly. 

“You feel that, Mimi,” he catches your hand and pulls it back to him. You try to shake him off but can’t. “Am I happy to see you or is that a ring in my pocket?” He brushes your palm over his dick and to his pocket. The shape you felt is sharper than you expect. You look up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to get on one knee.” 

He guides your hand to the top of his pocket and lets go. Your heart thumps as you reach inside and pull out the heart-shaped box. The lid opens like wings from the middle. You reveal the sapphire trimmed diamond inside. Each stone bigger than the next. 

You gape at the sparkling cluster. Lloyd chuckles and strokes your cheek. He cups your chin and raises it. As you look at him, he smirks again. 

“You take care of me, I take care of you,” he traces his thumb along your lip. “Speaking of, I’m fucking serious about my back. Can I get some help?” 

[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. 

[serasfanfiction]

Inspired by this Twitter thread.

Part 1

If asked about it later, Lucifer would have sworn it was an accident.

Well, his discovery was. Everything else? That was 100% on purpose.

The incident in question came about like most interactions with Alastor. Alastor messes with Lucifer (for no reason, Lucifer might add). Lucifer retaliates (with mixed results). Alastor tries to get under his skin. Lucifer casually reminds him can squish that little static bitch like a bug, thank you very much.

And so on and so forth, most only stopping when Charlie interrupts them.

It was all going pretty much to script. Alastor had just made a comment about his parenting skills - look, he knew he had messed up, but he was here, now, and trying! - to grind his gears when Lucifer found himself inspired.

Alastor wanted to rile him up? Well, fine! Two could play at this game.

Because while Lucifer's parenting skills - or lack there of - was a sore spot, Alastor wasn't without his own triggers. Case and point: The Radio Demon absolutely loathed it when men touched him. Granted, he didn't like it when anyone he didn't tolerate touched him, but men in particular was a hard no-no.

Lucifer honestly tried not to poke that beast. He knew why all of his people, these wretched and terrible sinners, were in Hell. All he had to do was take one hard look at any of them and he'd know. And oh, how he knew every single one of Alastor's victims. Could lay the names of all of them, especially that first one, at his feet if only he thought Alastor regretted even a single one of those deaths.

So he knew why the seemingly unflappable radio host hated to be touched and he genuinely tried to respect that boundary even when his own weren't respected.

But sometimes Alastor pushed and pushed until he got his reaction.

In this case, it was Lucifer in a small duck form landing right on Alastor's head.

Alastor froze as the Devil laughed at him, static emitting from him like he'd hit a bad station. Lucifer took advantage of the opening to nip at one of the tufts of hair he'd always seen sticking up on the guy's hair, only to realize:

"Are these ears?"

He let out a quack of pure delight. On either side of him, the little black antlers he'd never really paid attention to began to enlarge. Lucifer proceeded to put two-and-two together and got: "Wait, are you a deer? Does that mean you have a tai--"

He was cut off by an overly large black and red claw swipping him right off of Alastor's head. It was at this point, Lucifer realized that Alastor had grown in size, eyes manic and maw agape. He clearly intended to take his chances with attempting to eat his king.

Which, rude. Clearly, he needed to learn to take it if he was going to dish it out.

Lucifer easily shifted into a serpentine form, before slithering out of Alastor's grip. To avoid the drop, he shifted back into duck form, keeping just out of reach.

"Ha!" He taunted. "The dreadful Radio Demon, hell bent on treating everyone else like prey, when really--"

"Dad!"

Lucifer spun around, spotting none other than Charlie. While her interruption was indeed like clock work, the look of disappointment on her face was new. And so terribly damning.

Lucifer fluttered to the ground, taking to his humanoid form as he touched down. Behind him, his nemesis creaked oddly, as if his bones no longer had any cushioning between them. "Hey, Charlie, I..." He trailed off as his daughter didn't spare her hotel's manager the slightest glance. They all knew what to expect from Alastor. Alastor would always be none other than himself. She'd clearly expected more from her father.

Who'd just as clearly disappointed her.

Again.

Lucifer shrunk into himself, suddenly finding his victory tasted like ash.

Charlie placed her hands on her hips, stance . "Alastor, I know you like teasing my dad. And Dad, I know Alastor can take some getting used to, but can't you both please just try to get along?"

A figure in red came up beside Lucifer, the correct size and shape to indicate Alastor had returned to his normal shape. Lucifer didn't dare look at him, keeping his gaze fixed solely on His daughter's face.

"Ah, forgive us, my dear." Alastor says it like he'd never lost his cool to begin with, charm turned up to the nines. "We merely got a bit carried away. No harm done."

Charlie sighed, stance already softening. She never liked being stern. She much preferred to be a problem solver. She eyed the two of them. "I'm not going to ask that you like each other. Just promise me you'll at least try not to antagonize each other."

Lucifer side-eyed Alastor, who had the gall to appear serene as an untouched pond.

"Dad."

Lucifer's attention snapped back to Charlie. "I..." Her expression was bordering on disappointed again and he felt his arguments crumble. "Of course, Char-Char. Anything for you."

Her smile was like a sunrise dawning over Eden. Lucifer resolved himself to actually try to avoid fighting with his daughter's business partner.

Charlie turned that expectant look on Alastor. Alastor's smile softened into something fond and indulgent, true despite the slight distance to it. "Very well, my dear Charlie. I promise not to antagonize your father."

Charlie, always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, clapped her hands together. "Oh, thank you, both of you!"

Lucifer wasn't entirely certain he believed a word Alastor said, but that was between the two of them.

Tbc

Part 2

[imsobadatnicknames2]

What's OSR? I've seen you mention it several times in your RPG posts. Is it like a genre of rpg or...?

Hey, sorry I took so long to reply to this lol you probably already just googled it by now.

But like. Anyway.

OSR (Old-School Revival, Old-School Renaissance, and more uncommonly Old-School Rules or Old-School Revolution, no one can really agree on what the R means) is less like a genre and more like a movement or a loosely connected community that seeks to capture the tone, feel and/or playstyle of 70's and 80's fantasy roleplaying games (with a particular emphasis on old-school editions of Dungeons and Dragons, particularly the Basic D&D line but pretty much anything before 3e falls under this umbrella), or at least an idealized version of what people remember those games felt like to play.

There isn't exactly a consensus on what makes a game OSR but here's my personal list of things that I find to be common motifs in OSR game design and GM philosophy. Not every game in the movement features all of these things, but must certainly feature a few of them.

Rulings over rules: most OSR games lack mechanically codified rules for a lot of the actions that in modern D&D (and games influenced by it) would be covered by a skill system. Rather that try to have rules applicable for every situation, these games often have somewhat barebones rules, with the expectation that when a player tries to do something not covered by them the GM will have to make a ruling about it or negotiate a dice roll that feels fair (a common resolution system for this type of situation is d20 roll-under vs a stat that feels relevant, a d6 roll with x-in-6 chance to succeed, or just adjudicating the outcome based on how the player describes their actions)

"The solution is not on your character sheet": Related to the point above, the lack of character skills means that very few problems can be solved by saying "I roll [skill]". E.g. Looking for traps in an OSR game will look less like "I rolled 18 on my perception check" and more like "I poke the flagstones ahead with a stick to check if they're pressure plates" with maybe the GM asking for a roll or a saving throw if you do end up triggering a trap.

High lethality: Characters are squishy, and generally die much more easily. But conversely, character creation is often very quick, so if your character dies you can usually be playing again in minutes as long as there's a decent chance to integrate your new PC into the game.

Lack of emphasis on encounter balance: It's not uncommon for the PCs to find themselves way out of their depth, with encounters where they're almost guaranteed to lose unless they run away or find a creative way to stack the deck in their favor.

Combat as a failure state: Due to the two points above, not every encounter is meant to be fought, as doing so is generally not worth the risk and likely to end up badly. Players a generally better off finding ways to circumvent encounters through sneaking around them, outsmarting them, or out-maneauvering them, fighting only when there's no other option or when they've taken steps to make sure the battle is fought on their terms (e.g. luring enemies into traps or environmental hazards, stuff like that)

Emphasis on inventory and items: As skills, class features and character builds are less significant than in modern D&D (or sometimes outright nonexistent), a large part of the way the players engage with the world instead revolves around what they carry and how they use it. A lot of these games have you randomly roll your starting inventory, and often this will become as much a significant part of your character as your class is, even with seemingly useless clutter items. E.g. a hand mirror can become an invaluable tool for peeping around corners and doorways. This kind of gameplay techncially possible on modern D&D but in OSR games it's often vital.

Gold for XP: somewhat related to the above, in many of these games your XP will be determined by how much treasure you gather, casting players in the role and mindset of trasure hutners, grave robbers, etc.

Situations, not plots: This is more of a GM culture thing than an intrinsic feature of the games, but OSR campaigns will often eschew the long-form GM-authored Epic narrative that has become the norm since the late AD&D 2e era, in favor of a more sandbox-y "here's an initial situation, it's up to you what you do with it" style. This means that you probably won't be getting elaborate scenes plotted out sessions in advance to tie into your backstory and character arc, but it also means increased player agency, casting the GM in the role of less of a plot writer or narrator and more of a referee.

Like I said, these are not universal, and a lot of games that fall under the OSR umbrella will eschew some or most of these (it's very common for a lot of games to drop the gold-for-xp thing in favor of a different reawrd structure), but IMO they're a good baseline for understanding common features of the movement as a whole.

Of course, the OSR movement covers A LOT of different games, which I'd classify in the following categories by how much they deviate from their source of inspiration:

Retroclones are basically recreations of the ruleset of older D&D editions but without the D&D trademark, sometimes with a new coat of paint. E.g. OSRIC and For Gold and Glory are clones of AD&D (1e and 2e respectively); Whitebox and Fantastic Medieval Campaigns are recreations of the original 1974 white box D&D release; Old School Essentials, Basic Fantasy and Labyrinth Lord are clones of the 1981 B/X D&D set. Some of these recreate the original rules as-is, editing the text or reorganizing the information to be clearer but otherwise leaving the meachnics unchanged, while others will make slight rules changes to remove quirks that have come to be considered annoying in hindsight, some of them might mix and match features from different editions, but otherwise they're mostly straight up recreations of old-school D&D releases.

There are games that I would call "old-school compatible", that feature significant enough mechanical changes from old-school D&D to be considered a different game, but try to maintain mechanical compatibility with materials made for it. Games like The Black Hack, Knave, Macchiato Monsters, Dungeon Reavers, Whitehack, etc. play very differently from old-school D&D, and from each other, but you generally can grab any module made for any pre-3e D&D edition and run it with any of them with very little to no effort needed in conversion.

There's a third category that I wouldn't know how to call. Some people call then Nu-OSR or NSR (short for New School revolution) while a small minority of people argue that they aren't really part of the OSR movement but instead their own thing. I've personally taken to calling them "Old School Baroque". These are games that try to replicate different aspects of the tone and feel of old-school fantasy roleplaying games while borrowing few to none mechanics from them and not making any particular attempts to be mechanically compatible. Games like Into the Odd, Mörk Borg, Troika!, a dungeon game, FLEE, DURF, Songbirds, Mausritter, bastards, Cairn, Sledgehammer, and too many more to name. In my opinion this subsection of the OSR space is where it gets interesting, as there's so many different ways people try to recreate that old-school flavor with different mechanics.

(Of course, not everything fits neatly into these, e.g. I would consider stuff like Dungeon Crawl Classics to be somewhere inbetween category 1 and 2, and stuff like GloG or RELIC to be somewhere imbetween categories 2 and 3)

The OSR movement does have its ugly side, as it's to be expected by the fact that a huge part of the driving force behind it is nostalgia. Some people might be in it because it harkens back to a spirit of DIY and player agency that has been lost in traditional fantasy roleplaying games, but it's udneniable that some people are also in it because for them it harkens back to a time before "D&D went woke" when tabletop roleplaying was considered a hobby primarily for and by white men. That being said... generally those types of guys keep to themselves in their own little circlejerk, and it's pretty easy to find OSR spaces that are progressive and have a sinificant number of queer, POC, and marginalized creators.

[rowretro]

𝕾𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

✧taglist✧: @nxzz-skz   @nshmrarki @wntersm @eabananayoi

(anyone else? I think I may have missed a few names or tagged them on a dif post by accident)

WARNINGS: BLOOD, MENTIONS OF DEAD BODIES, nothing else I know of

✧CHAPTER 5✧

It was nothing new in the boys’ house. Waking up, doing a normal morning routine, then coming downstairs to find a whole blood bath in the living room.

 The girl stared, stunned as she watched Heeseung be so casual, laughing and joking with Jungwon as he poked one of the dead bodies with a stick “Painted our white sofa red. Broke whore couldn’t even be grateful enough to clean up after himself.”

 He scoffed, as he clicked his fingers at the guards “I want this room cleaned and the furniture replaced while we’re at school.” Heeseung ordered, smirking as he saw Babe step in, flinching at the sight of the gory scene. 

She silently grabbed her bag, and opened the front door, only for it to get slammed shut forcefully. “Where are you off to without us?! We’re going to the same school.” Heeseung simply said, his arm trapping her between the door and his body. 

“I-I need to get my uniform from home… I’ll meet you at school though-” she faked a smile as Heeseung scoffed “Fine… get in the car I’ll drop you off.” Heeseung coldly stated as the girl gasped. 

There was no way she’s letting them know where she lives. She can’t let them know where she lives, her home is her only safe place.

 “No need, seriously- it’s walking distance-” the girl added as Heeseung frowned at her attitude. “I’m being nice aren’t I? I’m literally offering you a ride babe, are you sure you want to miss out on it?!” He asked, his stare intense as the girl opened the front door “trust me, I’m fine… see you in school-” she said before leaving the building, and running all the way home.

. . .

Upon arriving at her place, she locked the doors and double checked that no one followed her. She peacefully took a quick shower, changed into her uniform and hopped onto her motorbike after rushing her makeup, speeding to the highest, and safest limit she could as she was practically already late. 

10 minutes after the lesson had started, Babe came rushing in, helmet still on her head, the girl out of breath “Sorry I’m late” she apologized through heavy breaths as the teacher blinked. “You forgot to take your helmet off,” the man pointed out, as the girl sighed, taking it off as she went to her seat beside Ning Ning.

 The girl was an extremely enthusiastic, outgoing extrovert, befriending practically everyone. However her energy can be a little too much for Babe to handle. In the nicest way possible, Ning Ning is annoying. “Ooh you even have gems and rhinestones on your helmet? That’s so cool!” she exclaimed quietly, not wanting to trigger the teacher.

 Babe sighed and faked a smile, before continuing to take notes. Ning Ning, however, was distracted, her head on the table, as she took a nap. That was the only time she’s ever been quiet, but the babe mentally admitted, she kind of missed her noisiness.

It was finally break time, the boys out of sight. It was weird. Ever since she arrived at school she didn’t see them anywhere, not even in the first 2 lessons.

 The girl shrugged, sitting with Eunchae where Ning Ning was enthusiastically telling the girls her latest gossip in school “Did you hear? Apparently they’re cleaning it up now! The boys got into a fight earlier, like right before school… there was so much blood everywhere I wouldn’t even be surprised if someone died!” Ning Ning exaggerated.

 “OOH and the person they beat up was a guy that was interested in Babe~” Ning Ning sang as her sentence was followed by the girls’ oohing her. Babe’s eyes widened when she saw the boy’s walk in. 

Just as Ning Ning was about to say something else so daring, Babe stuffed a bunch of popcorn in Ning Ning’s mouth, catching her off guard “YOU SEEM HUNGRY HERE TRY THIS- ITS BIBBLE FROM THE UK-” she exclaimed, muffling Ning Ning’s sentences.

 Jungwon glanced at them, weirded out by her behaviour, while Jay rolled his eyes, approaching them. “Babe Lee. did you forget where you sit or is this some kind of cry for attention?!” Jay asked coldly as he walked off, the girl hastily grabbing her things, running after him.

. . .

Babe was silent, watching as the boys played basket ball outside in the cold. No teachers or students were here as it was pretty late after school. Riki was still staying at home, resting as his fever was fairly high.

Sunghoon was simply smoking some cannabis, giggling with Jake about some random shit. Heeseung flawlessly shooting hoops, teasing Jay, as Jungwon also joined in by teasing the both of them, bouncing the ball out of their hands and running.

They looked so sweet and harmless that verry moment. Babe, looked in her small bedazzled Mirror she keeps in her pocket, frowning as she saw that her lipstick faded, her lips now deprived of the pretty nude-ish pink shade. 

She slowly applied the lipstick, making sure she doesn't apply too much. whenever she got some colour anywhere that's not on her lips, she softly wiped it away with her finger.

The girl applied some more lipstick on her lower lip, flinching as the basket ball hit the space beside her. "Go get the ball Jay-" Heeseung frowned as the male rolled his eyes. Babe frowned as she saw the stride of product on her face.

Just as she was about to wipe it away with her sleeve, the soft hands of Sunoo meet her cheeks, he smiled as he wiped it off properly with some makeup wipes. "Let me do your lips- it's so satisfying" he simply asked.

Quite taken aback by his sudden softness, Babe smiled and handed him her lipstick, lip gloss and lipliner. He was so focused, using his thumb occasionally to blend out the makeup.

he frowned looking through her collection of lip liners, noticing they were all pretty dark. Sunghoon who was witnessing the cute scene simply pointed at one for him, as the male took it and started reapplying the liner on her lips, blending it in so it won't look ridiculous.

He pecked her lips quickly, not ruining his artwork, before applying the lip gloss over it. "I've never actually done anyone's makeup before- you should start letting me do yours more often, your lips look prettier, even though they already were pretty-" He simply said as the girl thanked him.

Wasn't it just this morning that these boys who are seemingly sweet, innocent and carefree, were brutally murdering some bastards and enjoying every scene of it?.... 

✧𝕾𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗✧

[assortedseaglass]

The Ashes In My Wake

Request: Please may I request something with Billy Washington? Perhaps something where he is jealous/possessive over his lady. We don’t have enough Billy content and you write him so well!

@bouncehousedemons

Billy Washington x Unnamed OFC

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, Trigger Point spoilers(ish)

Word Count: 2K

Note: I’m taking so long with requests but c’est la vie

The bass from the speakers rattled his every organ, but the thrum of guitar and the singer’s rasping voice were warped by the breath ringing in his ears. All around him, the crowd brayed with laughter, pulsed and lurched, shouted words to songs Billy didn’t know. Some edged away from him with disgusted looks. Others laughed. A few were scrabbling at him, their hands pouring from the darkness to pull him away.

Billy hadn’t meant to do it. Not really. Dark spaces crammed with writhing, sweaty bodies weren’t his scene. Give him a pint of pilsner at the pub any day. But when she’d begged him, arms wrapped about the small of his waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing the freckles of his stomach, he’d caved. Surely he owed her something? She had dinner at his parents’, somehow got Lana to like her, let him fuck her. Even dragged him away from those pathetic, self-mutilating thoughts. One night peppered with furtive cigarettes in the piss-stained alley and a quick jägerbomb or three at the bar while she danced her heart out couldn’t hurt. Not him at least.

He'd been gone three minutes, fidgeting with the ring on his index finger, pint of whatever’s cheapest and some water, when his discomfort turned into something more sinister. Sure, he’d wanted to punch the twat’s teeth through the back of his skull the moment he sauntered toward her, the rock of his hips matching perfectly to the sway of hers. Yes, when the dickhead brushed her hair away from her head to whisper something, Billy wanted to pull that stupid fucking neckerchief so hard it made his eyes bulge. But when she threw her head back in laughter and the bellend, with his sleeve of stick and pokes, flashed a vulpine grin with those perfect teeth, Billy’s mind went blank with jealousy. He hadn’t meant to do it, but somehow, he knew that he had.

Over the heads of the crowd, Billy saw two men clad in black weaving towards them. She was screaming at him, hair whipping around her face as she hit his chest. Whatever she shouted was inaudible over the music, her spit flecking his cheeks. The dickhead, with his greaser’s hair and shit tattoos, clutched his nose. At his side, clenched into a ball of perfect rage, Billy’s knuckles were already purpling.

A wayward thud caught him in the sternum and, momentarily breathless, he looked down. Her eyes were red with fury, cheeks flushed from the exertion of dancing and the electricity of her anger, and Billy had to fight not to smile through his hot rage. A hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him backwards. The bouncers.

“Fuck off,” he twisted from their grip and pointed at the twat stood perilously close to his girlfriend. “Don’t fucking touch her again!” The man in the leather jacket stared at him in all his wild-eyed fury, wiped his nose of blood and stepped closer to her.

“You’re a fucking psycho, mate.” He pulled at the collar of his jacket and puffed out his chest. “You need to be put away.”

“Just fuck off!” As he yelled it, so did she. The ghost of a grin shadowed Billy’s face and his heart hammered with pride.

“Don’t think much of your taste, love,” The creep was smiling now, and though he spoke to the woman before him, his eyes bore into Billy’s, whose own fell to his girlfriend. She stared at the man who had so pleased her minutes before. Her face was unreadable, a mixture of anger, exasperation and, was that assent? For a moment, fleeting and pitiable, Billy stilled. The bouncers slackened their hold on his shoulders, and the try-hard backed into the dancing revellers.

“Insecure little prick.”

The stranger knew he was in trouble and his mirthless laughter died. This girl’s fella was scrawny, yes, but when his eyes flickered from her lovely face to his, the pathetic loser he had once seen was replaced by the animal within. It happened almost imperceptibly. The hard nose, carved from stone and no doubt impossible to break, flared with readying breaths. Beneath its shadow, his small scar curved as the thin lips bared across his teeth in a snarl. What scared the man most though, were his eyes. Set beneath a heavy brow, they seemed to flicker under the strobes. With each flash of white, his eyes turned to glass, focused on the man before him and nothing else. Everything about this boy was sharp, and the pain in the stranger’s broken nose seemed to numb. Whatever agony he thought he was in, the next blow would be worse. With a growl and slash of his wiry hands, Billy launched at the cunt.

He caught the man across the face, his nails tearing the skin. Before the bouncers could react or she could intervene, his other fist collided with the underside of the greaser’s ribs. The force of Billy’s punch caused the blood gathered in his nose and the back of his throat to rip past his lips. A few women shrieked and the bouncers leapt suddenly into action. Before they could, two small and solid hands pushed Billy backwards.

“What THE FUCK is wrong with you, Bill?” He stared at her. One of the bouncer’s meaty hands closed around his upper arm and pulled him away.

“What’s wrong with me? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!? I didn’t agree come to this shitty gig just to watch you flirt with Danny fucking Zuko!” The man, who had stood aside to laugh at their argument, flinched as Billy lurched forwards once again. The second bouncer gripped a fistful of Billy’s hoodie and yanked, the force causing him to land on his arse. The surrounding crowd oohed and laughed at him. Someone pulled him off the ground and shoved him towards the door. “Fuck off! I’m going.” And without a glance backwards, pushing past bellowing spectators and carrying the last of his pride, Billy stalked from the club.

Drizzle glimmered blue on the black street. Shops were shuttered and a few late-night revellers swayed as they said their goodbyes. Billy took out his phone, her face smiling up at him from the screen. 23.54. He sighed, lit a cigarette and, pulling up the collar of his hoodie, meandered home.

“Traffic light, fag ends, bin, more fag ends, taxi,” His therapist got him to do these stupid lists when he was angry. Five things you can see, four things you can hear…

“Rain, cars, my feet-” The bass of the club still thudded in the distance and Billy kicked a blue bin as he passed it, anger flaring once again. What are you’re hot emotions, Billy? She always asked that. The therapist. After the incident at Cranstead Fields, the hospital prescribed Billy a course of CBT and psychotherapy. The police agreed, saying that if he attended the sessions, the community service he owed due to his attack on the butcher’s could be reduced. Not that any of it was fucking working. He talked until he was blue in the face about Lana and his parents, his rejection from the army, his rejection from work, but the nightmares still came. The car, the bomb, his body scattered across the field…

A dull headache was forming behind his eyes by the time he shut the door of the flat. Vestiges of his life before she had come along still clung to his home; unfolded piles of washing, dishes piling up by the sink, the curtains half open. But there was brightness too. Her coat was hung on the rack. The lounge was now a place to do just that, with cushions and candles and frames hung on the wall. In the fridge, leftovers of the last meal she cooked were waiting for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and filled the kettle.

Cold showers ease the muscle tension and headaches aroused by angry outbursts.

In the bathroom, her makeup was still scattered across the sink. Billy piled it into the small vanity case she brought when she stayed at his and ran the shower. She’d still be at the gig, and Billy wondered if she’d be dancing with the stranger, or if she’d meant it when she told him to fuck off.

Cold shower having dampened his anger and his spirits, Billy padded towards the kitchen. He thought about calling Thom, but he’d only tell Lana. He thought about emailing his therapist, but it was midnight on a Saturday. There was nothing for it, and Billy did the only thing he could think of. Taking out his phone, he tapped away a quick message, I’m sorry, gone home. Will call in the morning x, and reboiled the kettle.

“I’ve already made you one.” The voice came from the lounge and, ducking his head beneath the frame, Billy saw her sat on the threadbare sofa, staring at the two steaming cups on the coffee table. “I thought we’d talked about this, Bill-”

“Don’t,” he spat, then weakly. “Don’t.”

“Do I need to call Lana?”

“I’m not a child,” he threw himself down in the gaming chair opposite her.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence. They stared at each other a while, both too stubborn to speak. When his leg began to bob in agitation, she sighed and leant forward.

“What happened?”

Billy didn’t speak, choosing instead to pick at the skin of his left palm. It wasn’t until her mug knocked against the table that he said anything.

“You looked so happy,” his voice was a whisper, and were she not so annoyed at him, her heart would have broken.

“Well, yeah, I was,” he could hear annoyance decorating her tender words. “But some guy making me laugh doesn’t mean I’m unhappy with you, Bill.” He didn’t look up, and she moved around the table to kneel below his gaze. “You make me happy, Billy.”

From under the sweep of his golden hair, he watched her, all gentle eyes and kindness despite the way he behaved. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m trying-”

“I know you are, and you’re doing so well.” She clutched at his hands, soothing the skin he had been rubbing. “You’ll get there.” Her hand grazed something cool. The ring she gave him for his birthday was cold against the heat of his swollen knuckles. “For God’s sake, Billy! Take it off.”

He tugged at it aggressively, huffing like a child but it didn’t budge. “I can’t.”

His petulance made her laugh and he frowned, pulling his hand from her grip.

“Don’t be so mardy,” she took back his hand and ran gentle kisses over the bruised skin. God, she was good to him. When she had delicately kissed each knuckle, she turned his hand over so his palm was facing upward. “You make me happy, Billy,” she repeated softly, before taking his ringed finger into her mouth. Billy’s breath caught at the warmth of it, they way her cheeks hollowed, the strain the action put on his trousers.

“Fuck,”

He watched, mesmerised, as she drew back. Her eyes never leaving his, she smiled, the ring held between her teeth. “Fuck,” he said again, when she took him by the hand and led him towards his bedroom.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Wash.”

Note: When to an amazing gig at the weekend, but there was one guy there who was an absolute caricature of a 50s greaser. Had to put him in. Writing is hard at the moment because of things but I’m getting back to it as it makes me happy. Joined the Hozier lyrics as fic titles band wagon.

Tagging the old Come Back To Me crew: @jessssica1234 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @greenowlfactif @heimtathurs @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai @targaryenrealnessdarling

[anyamaris]

Ours

Word Count-3k

Summary- When you'd agreed to date both of them, you hadn't expected double the trouble.

Pairing(s)- brat!F!reader x bf!Seonghwa, brat!F!reader x Dom!bf!Wooyoung

Trope-Established Relationship AU/Smut

Warnings-Language, arguing, unprotected sex (wrap it up), spanking, degradation, name calling, D/s dynamics (couple has predetermined safe words and consent) hair pulling, Trigger warning for the D/s stuff, and the spanking, just so no one is reading that shouldn't. MINORS DNI 18+++++

A/N- For my darling @wooyoungmybelovedhusband 🤍💜🤍

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @stardragongalaxy

NSFW below cut

"Looks like my flight is delayed until tomorrow." Seonghwa sighs, coming in and flopping down on the couch beside you and Wooyoung. "Seriously??" Wooyoung groans, tossing a pillow at his friend. "Just...go somewhere else then!"

"Where should I go, Woo?" Hwa asks, rolling his eyes. "I don't care, anywhere but here." Woo catches the pillow as Hwa throws it back at him.

"Hey! Stop, I don't want to be in the middle of this." you say, going to push yourself up. Ever since you'd agreed to date BOTH of them (against your better judgement), it'd been like this.

"Look, you're upsetting her. Let's not argue, Woo." Hwa says, sighing. "Easy for you to say, you got four whole days alone. Now you're taking one of my days!" You sit down in Woo's lap, giving him a kiss to placate him. He just sighs and pouts at you.

"Woo...it's not a big deal. It's been almost a year now, why are you still so worried about time spent with me?" You ask, petting his hair.

"It's just...I just want to spend alone time with you." he says, looking at Hwa with a glare. Seonghwa just shrugs at Woo and sticks his tongue out, laughing when he gets the reaction he wants.

"Guess what else I did with this tongue, Woo?" Seonghwa says, glancing at you and then wiggling his eyebrows. Your face turns red as you glare at Hwa, knowing it's going to rile Woo up. "Fuck you, you piece of-" Woo spits out, but you grab him as he goes to push you off his lap. "Woo, stop-" you start and then he's spinning on you.

"Oh are you going to defend him? Hmm? You spend a few days with him alone and now it's just the two of you? What, do you think I'm just going to give up and let you two have eachother? WELL FUCK THAT. YOU'RE MINE." He says, gripping you by your upper arms. You glance at Hwa, totally not expecting this reaction, but Woo shakes you.

'Don't fucking look at HIM, look at ME!" he is yelling now and you're unable to say anything as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, causing you to gasp. You look at Hwa as Woo carries you off but Hwa just smiles and waves. "Hwa!" You point at him, mouthing obscenities as he laughs.

You feel Wooyoung's hand come down on your ass as he carries you. "Stop saying his name!" he yells as you protest, kicking your legs. "Wooyoung, you put me down this very-" you start and then you let out a 'oof' as he tosses you on the large bed in your room.

"Seriously, Woo? He can't help-" you're cut off as he slams the door and spins on you, his face red and angry. "I don't care what he can and can't help, Y/n!" he says, pointing at you. "This is my time with you. Can't I even enjoy it?" he asks and you just widen your eyes at his tirade.

"Really? You can't enjoy your time with me even if Seonghwa is here?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow. His jealousy is intriguing you and you can't help but poke at him while he's like this.

"I didn't say that." He is pacing now, running his fingers through his hair and you have to suppress the urge to laugh at him.

"Well, if you keep acting like this, maybe I'll just go spend the night with him-" you start with a smirk and Woo immediately is over you, arms on either side of you as he frowns down at you. "Is that what you want, brat? You want to go spend more time with him?" he asks, his mouth pulling up into a sneer. His face was inches from yours and you could see his veins straining. As much as you loved pushing his buttons, you were fairly certain that this was a pretty clear line he was drawing.

But you just couldn't help yourself.

"Maybe."

The one word has more of an effect than anything you could have possibly said as his jaw clenches, the veins in his neck pulse and then his hands are in the back of your hair, yanking you upwards. "Woo-!!" you screech and before you can even say another word, he's pulling you down over his knee.

He doesn't even let go of your hair as he yanks up your skirt, yanking down your panties and giving you three solid smacks right on your bare ass. You're clutching at his pant leg and the bed sheet, anything you can get grasp as you cry out from the heat and pain his hands are inflicting on you.

"Woo, please-!" you manage and his hand comes down again, this time on the other cheek. You feel your lower stomach tighten as you rub your legs together, the sting of his hand making you whimper. "Don't you even fucking open those pretty lips unless I tell you that you can. You want to be with Hwa right now? Is that so? Well I don't get a fuck what you want, because you're MINE. MINE, you understand?" He brings his hand down again, causing you to cry out, then he's forcing his fingers into you. "This pussy is mine."

"Look at you, already wet. You like it when I spank you, don't you? You're such a little whore. MY little whore." he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Who said you could get wet? Is this from thinking about HIM?" he hisses in your ear, then he yanks his fingers out, bringing his flat palm back in to slap your cunt. Hard. You squeal out in surprise as he holds you while you writhe under him.

"Woo!!" you try to turn and look at him in shock but he just spanks you again, following up with his fingers patting your swollen, wet pussy. "Is this for him....or for me?" he asks in a low voice. Shivering, you feel yourself clench at his tone, his breath tickling your neck.

"I ..." you start, his fingertips toying at your entrance. You swallow then close your eyes, stating firmly, "I'm not telling." You feel the hairs on your skin raise at his growl, then he's flipping you around, grabbing your waist and yanking you back against him. He manages to tuck your one leg under his, holding you open, exposed.

"Oh...you'll be telling me." he whispers, his mouth next to your ear. You whine at him, and he laughs softly. He brings his hand down between your legs and you immediately try to close them, but he's got them both held open firmly. He runs two fingers along your wet slit, rubbing lightly against your clit.

"Don't want to be a good girl?" he asks, then he slaps your nub, forcing a cry from you. "Want to be a bad girl?" he growls against your ear, then brings another stinging slap against your sensitive bud.

"Woooo!!!!" You cry out and tears start leaking from your eyes, your hips writhing in agony. "Hmm? What is it, little one?" He slaps your sensitive core one more time and you sob a little, whimpering.

"You..." you whisper and he brings his fingers back to rub along your slick opening. "What? Sorry I couldn't hear you, princess." You can feel his smirk but at his hand drawing away from you again, you cry out, "YOU! IT'S FOR YOU!" You finally manage, almost screaming.

"That's better, so much better." he murmurs, his hand skimming across your inner thigh as he kisses your neck. His fingers dip back towards your center, then he pinches your clit.

"Get up," he says harshly. letting you go so you almost fall. Landing on your knees, you look up at him, your defiant eyes wet with unshed tears. "Oh look at that face," he says, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up. "You make me want to just want to..." he slaps your cheek, hard enough to turn your head but light enough to only sting a little. You rub your legs together as the ache from his spanking is still radiating through your body. The slap just escalates your need and you can feel your thighs grow damp.

You bite your lip and reach for his pants, managing to get them undone before he has his hands in your hair once more. "Did I tell you that you could have my dick?" he asks, finishing off what you started as he pulls his pants down. Your eyes drift to his stiff length as he kicks off the clothing.

"Open your mouth." He demands and you resist for a moment, earning you a hair yank. He grasps your face and forces you to look at him again. "Open." he says and you finally do, trying to suppress a grin.

He wraps a hand around himself, bringing the head of his cock to your lips. "Now suck it like a good little girl." he says as he rubs the tip along your mouth. You flick your tongue out, tasting the precum he's already leaking. "mmm there you go, that's it..." he murmurs as you open wide for him, letting him rub himself along your tongue before he thrusts his hips forward, hitting the back of your throat. You gag briefly and he moans, pulling back, a string of drool following him out.

"Again...more..." you moan, leaning forward to take him back in your mouth. "My pretty little one," he coaxes you, as you take him in your hand and stroke him. "Fuck my mouth, Woo." you whine, tears still clinging to your eyelashes and he can't help but comply.

You reach between your legs and rub your clit roughly, remembering his stinging hand as he fucks the back of your throat. He watches you briefly as you moan around him in between gagging on his thickness, then he stops, pulling your hair back once again.

"Hands off, bad girl." he says, reaching down to yank your hand away from pleasuring yourself. "You really are pushing it today, aren't you?" You pout up at him and he sits on the bed, his thick cock red and veiny and you immediately go for him again.

"Stop." he says and you whine, "Wooo! Please, I want....."

"This?" he asks, palming himself and you lick your lips.

You nod and he stands up, walking close to you, looking down at you as he gets close. Suddenly, he's yanking your top and bra off, throwing them before he wraps his arms around you, kissing you harshly, prying your mouth open with his tongue.

Before you can even melt into him, he's breaking the kiss, spinning you around as he tears his shirt off. He pulls your back against him, facing you towards the bed. Pressing himself against your ass, he kisses your neck and slips his hands over your breasts, cupping one in each hand. You cry out as he pinches them, and he nips your shoulder.

"I'm going to fuck your little cunt so hard that you won't be able think about anything but what I can do to you. No one can do to you what I can do, because you belong to me. I'm going to make sure you feel it for days."

As he's saying this, he pushes you forward on your stomach so you are bent over the edge of the bed. "Woo...." you moan out as he pushes your legs apart with his, slapping one of your ass cheeks as he rubs the tip of his cock against your sopping wet core. "You love this, don't you? Like a dirty little whore." he says, pushing into you just enough to tease and start to stretch your opening.

"Yes! Just please...Woo....." you say, gripping the bedsheets and trying your best to push back onto him. "Please what?" he asks as he spanks you yet again.

Finally you give in and scream-

"PLEASE FUCK ME! I'M A DIRTY WHORE...I'M YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!"

"Good-" he starts and then he's slamming into you, the sudden stretch of his thickness causing you to squeal, "girl!" he finishes on a moan, digging his fingers into your hips. "Fuck me! Woo!" you are whining and he obliges, pulling your arms behind you as he holds you down against the bed, his hips thrusting into you faster and harder each time.

The intensity of the stings and slaps he's given you heightens the impending orgasm you feel creeping up. "Fuck baby, I can feel your tight little pussy milking me, I'm going to fill you up with so much cum. You want that, don't you? Don't you, you little slut?" He's moaning and you nod against the bed, almost unable to breathe from the tightness building in your abdomen.

"Please....please Woo...please cum in me ......Wooyoung!" You whimper, pleading and begging and you can hear his breath hitching and the pace start to become irregular. "So-close-" he grunts out, then you scream as the coil finally snaps and you're clamping down around him, your walls fluttering and gripping him. You just sob out random noises, unable to think as he thrusts once, then twice more as you feel him empty himself in you.

Your legs go limp as he slowly slides almost all the way out of you, then thrusts back in, causing you to squeak softly. You can feel the hot mess he's left in you push out at his motion. "Mmm, so so messy." he says, then he withdraws completely, holding onto your hips so you don't fall. He kneels down behind you, admiring his handiwork.

"You look so beautiful all fucked out and dripping with my cum." he murmurs and then he's drawing you back, pulling you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile up at him. "Such a good girl." he says, smiling and kisses you. You run your fingers into his hair and he lifts you, carrying you into the large bathroom.

"Hwa, you're amazing." Woo says, lowering you into the oversized tub that is now filled with bubbles. "Of course," Seonghwa returns, kneeling down to pet your hair. "Gotta take care of our princess, hm?" he says, kissing your forehead. Woo kneels on the other side, rubbing your neck. You smile at both of them, then tug on Hwa's shirt.

"Hm? What is it, love?" he asks and you look at Woo, then back at Hwa. "Both. Come in." You say, pouting and Woo chuckles.

"Fine, brat." he says and slips in across from you, splashing you a little. You'd made sure to get a suite with a huge tub for just this purpose. Hwa folds his clothes neatly before he slides in behind you, pulling you back against his naked body.

You poke your foot out of the water and aim it at Woo, wiggling your toes. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes but he grabs it and starts rubbing it for you. You let out a light moan and Hwa kisses your shoulder, pushing your hair to the side. He pokes your nose, leaving behind some bubbles before he leans in, taking your mouth with his.

As always, his tongue has a mind of it's own and he's deepening the kiss, his tongue running along yours. You feel him hardening against your ass and his hands slip under your hips, lifting you. You both stop momentarily, making sure Woo is watching. He nods, his hand slipping under the water, bringing your foot to rub against his dick. "Already?" you ask breathily and he nods, biting his lip as you rub your foot along his length, slipping it under to toe at his balls.

Hwa lowers you down on him slowly as Woo strokes himself. You cry out as he seats you completely on him, letting you get used to it. "Still sore from Woo?" he asks, panting a little and you shake your head. They both knew how much you loved the soreness but were always careful to inquire. "Hwa...you feel so good." you murmur as you watch Woo. You start moaning as Hwa lifts you and you roll your hips, drawing out long sighs and groans from him. His plush lips run along your shoulder to your neck, making you shiver. "Woo-" you moan, reaching for him and he slips closer to you, moaning as he brings his lips to yours. You suck on his bottom lip as he reaches down to rub your clit as Hwa fucks you. You gasp into his mouth, then wrap your hand around him, stroking him at the same pace Hwa is fucking you.

Hwa's hips start to lift as he moans louder, and Woo starts speeding up as well, his fingers strong and the pressure causes you to tip over the edge, clamping down around Hwa faster than expected. "Fuck!" he cries out, his arms tightening around your waist, his lips latching into your neck, sucking and marking you as he whines. You feel him jerking under you, whimpering as he fills you. Finally Woo's panting and moaning and you know he's close too.

"Cum for me, Woo...." you say, opening your mouth and he stands up, jerking himself off into your mouth, covering your face with his hot seed. You reach up to rub his balls as he unloads, enjoying the whining coming from him as you flick your tongue against him.

"TOO MUCH!" he cries and you giggle. He collapses back into the water with you both, his arms on either side of the tub. Hwa is breathing heavily under you, his cheek pressed against your shoulder.

You grin at Woo then lean forward, splashing your face with the soapy water, washing his mess off of you. "Awww my boys..." you say, and Woo comes over beside you both so he can put his head on your chest.

"Happy Anniversary," you say, turning to give them each a kiss. "Now, are you two going to feed me or what?" You ask and they both groan, completely spent.

You just couldn't help being a brat with them.

[666writingcafe]

A Truce

The pamphlet said that the train would be traveling at a slower speed through the section we're currently on, which meant it'd be a good chance to really take in the view at night. Still, I didn't expect Luke to be sitting on the literal roof of the car, looking up at the stars. I thought he'd be scared of heights or something.

It works out to my advantage, though.

"Hey," I call out to him.

"Go away." Fair response, considering how I treated him in the dining car. Hopefully my gift helps make up for it.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have scammed you out of your dessert." I pause long enough to bring my hands out from behind my back, revealing my present. "I talked to one of the attendants and managed to snag a spare serving for ya."

Luke turns around to look at me and the to-go container that his dessert is in.

"You didn't do anything to it, did you?" he asks.

"If I did, I wouldn't be alive to tell the tale." Between Simeon and MC, they'd probably killed me if I did something like that to Luke.

"Fair enough." I walk over and sit beside Luke, handing him the to-go container. As he begins eating, I glance up at the night sky. It's been a while since I've taken in the night sky in the human world. Usually I'm running a bunch of errands for the witches when I'm up here, and they hate whenever I dilly-dally.

"You see those stars over there? The ones that form a triangle?" I point towards it, Luke following along with his eyes. "Those are Betelgeuse, Sirius, and Procyon. Betelgeuse is part of Orion, Sirius of Canis Major, and Procyon of Canis Minor." Luke swallows his bite.

"You know constellations?" I nod.

"Michael taught me everything I know about them. Obviously, it was a real long time ago, but we spent a lot of nights together in the observatory." I chuckle slightly as I recall the memory. "For him, it was part of his job. I just liked following him around."

"So you haven't forgotten about Michael, then?"

"I can't. It's impossible. He's the type of person that sticks in your memory, for better or for worse." I sigh. I probably shouldn't reveal this to Luke, but at the same time I want to prepare him.

"What do you mean by 'or for worse'?" Luke looks up at me, and I see myself reflected in his eyes. In that moment, I make my decision. I can't have him go through the same thing I did.

"Michael used to be my mentor. As I said, I followed him around pretty much everywhere he went. I wanted his approval more than anything in the world. Unfortunately, that's kinda hard to do when you're born defective."

"But you look fine." I shake my head.

"The problem was in my personality, not my physical appearance. I was incredibly hyper for an angel, and I found it hard to focus on anything for more than a few moments. It made it difficult for them to assign me to a specific area of expertise, as I'd fall behind my classmates each and every time. Eventually, they thought I'd do better shadowing someone, and so they assigned me to Michael.

"Things were fine for a while, but then one day we walked into a room with a bunch of other high-ranking angels. One of them saw me and started poking fun at me, calling me Michael's little puppy."

"So that's where that came from," Luke interrupts. "You weren't really present in the dining car, were you?" I shake my head.

"For whatever reason, hearing you mentioning Michael triggered the emotions and memories from back then. It's a bit of a sore spot for me, to be honest." I pause. "In addition to that lovely little insult, the angel started barking at me, causing a couple of his buddies to join in. I looked up at Michael, hoping he'd tell them to knock it off, but instead he saw the tears forming in my eyes and scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned his back to me. In that moment, I knew he wanted nothing to do with me, and it hurt.

"And so I ran. I don't know for how long, but eventually I wound up deep in the woods, my lungs about to burst. I nearly collapsed against one of the trees as I began sobbing. I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't trying to annoy him, but he was clearly disgusted with me." Luke has tears forming in his eyes.

"Who found you?" he whispers.

"Lucifer did. I didn't even realize he was there until he softly called my name and asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he held me in his arms for several moments before telling me that he'd take over as my mentor."

That memory affects my behavior to this very day. That's why I often push away the people I love the most by acting out; the further away they are, the less likely they are to hurt me. I know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism, but I don't really know how to stop. I was slightly younger than Luke when it happened.

"Are you worried that's going to happen to me, Mammon?" I sigh.

"For your sake, I hope it doesn't. I just want you to be careful, that's all. Being rejected sucks, especially if it's coming from someone you look up to and admire." I pause again. "I also don't want you to be crushed when you discover cracks in his armor. Everyone has flaws, even the most kind and generous people."

We sit in silence for a while. At some point, Luke scoots closer to my side, and I wrap an arm around him. He really is a sweet kid. I just wish he wasn't so fragile.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Ikemen Vampire: Revolve

Isaac Newton • Isaac x MC (Mitsuki) • Tags: Fluff; wearing significant other’s clothes; teaching; star gazing • Word Count: ~1850 • Triggers: None • Rating: PG (one tiny PG-13 scene for our beloved wolf in sheep’s clothing) • Brief appearances by Napoleon and Arthur

Description: A meaningful exchange of gifts for Isaac and his love. For @fang-and-feather in the My Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange (thanks again @ikemenlibrary for hosting 🥰)! Quotes from Isaac’s route are in bold text.

Fluff Rating: *Carefully measures a teaspoon of sugar, promptly discards it and dumps entire bowl of sugar into mouth

…

Revolve: To move in a circular or curving orbit around a central point.

Alternate description: To think about or center on with singular focus.

…

The children were more rambunctious than usual this week. Several small hands clung to Isaac’s clothes as he knelt, drawing in the dirt. A stick made circular paths around a yellow ball with colored marbles in each dirt trail—a crude but effective solar system appearing before everyone’s eyes. A nagging feeling at the back of Isaac’s head told him the lesson should have been over long ago, but he was too engrossed to truly notice.

Isaac’s hands moved dramatically as he launched into the lecture, calculations running in his head. “And so you see, the Earth ROTATES on its axis but REVOLVES around the sun—“

“What’s THAT?” A blonde boy poked at Isaac’s neck, gesturing at two redden marks dotting his skin.

Isaac hastily fixed his shirt collar, a fierce blush creeping past his ears. His mind instantly recalled the evening with Mitsuki that caused those marks, and the soft sweet voice that accompanied it. His hand gravitated towards his pants pocket at the thought of Mitsuki, and the gift he planned to give her nestled within it. He wasn’t sure how to properly express what he felt for her—it was too encompassing, too vast to be explained with words. But the gift was a start.

The blonde boy continued to poke Isaac’s neck, pulling him from his musings. “I-it’s a rash William!” Isaac prayed the fib would deter the boy’s probing.

“There’s a mark on the other side of his neck too!” William’s younger brother pulled back Isaac’s collar, revealing a third blossoming mark. “Is it contagious?”

“No! Could you politely NOT do that?” Isaac adjusted his tie and shirt so all of his neck was covered. He pressed his hand to his temple and gestured to the yellow ball, desperate to get back to the lecture. “The sun here is—“

“I hope Miss Mitsuki doesn’t catch that rash.” A doe-eyed girl stared at Issac. “Professor, will Miss Mitsuki be alright?”

“I hope so Nicole,” another girl chirped. “Professor Isaac’s life revolves around her.”

“That’s not the revolving we’re talking about here!” Nicole tittered.

“Napoleon!” Isaac’s blush reached peak intensity. Instinctively, he curled into a ball while crouching over his feet. His eyes lowered to the ground that he wished would open up and swallow him whole. Not that he was embarrassed about his relationship with Mitsuki. On the contrary, what Isaac had with her was everything he’d wanted but thought was out of reach—warmth, acceptance, understanding. He just wished particular aspects of that warmth weren’t so noticeable to others.

“Sometimes you have to fight your own battles.” Napoleon lowered his wooden sword, signaling to his students that the lesson was temporarily suspended. He walked over to Isaac and ruffled his hair. “However, I see the enemy has you greatly outnumbered.”

Isaac groaned as the children laughed. He unfurled his body and was about to resume his lecture until he looked at his watch and jumped up. “It’s way past time. I have to go!” Isaac made his excuses and left quickly, promising to pick up the lesson next week.

As Isaac trotted away, William sought Napoleon. “Did we do a good job?”

“You did wonderfully, mon petit soldat!” Napoleon beamed at William and the other children. “You all did. Professor Isaac doesn’t suspect a thing. You kept him here an extra 30 minutes. That should give Mitsuki enough time.”

“Is Professor Isaac ok?” Nicole worried her lip. “His neck looked awfully—“

“Mitsuki will take care of him.” The corner of Napoleon’s mouth quirked. “Rest assured.”

…

Isaac raced back to the Mansion. As he made his way past the front door and towards his room, he thanked his lucky stars he encountered no one to bother him.

“Newt old boy!”

Never mind. Arthur strolled by Isaac, his tongue wagging. Arthur’s eyes trained on Isaac’s furtive movements—Isaac didn’t bother to hide his desire to leave as he continued walking.

“You’re not the only one who’s eager! I just passed by your room. Our Mitsuki awaits with anticipation.”

“Not OUR. That’s enough from you.” Irritated, Isaac brushed past Arthur.

“Yes, yes, you should make haste. She’s quite in a precarious position. All for your sake, old chap.” Arthur’s eyes sparkled.

There were endless possibilities to what Arthur could mean. Isaac tugged a lock of hair and moved faster, not bothering to reply back.

“Oh, you’ll appreciate it Newt.” Arthur’s chuckled quietly as he watched Isaac hurry down the hall.

When Isaac finally made his way to his room, the first thing he noticed was the partially open door. He opened it fully before closing it quietly behind him. What he saw next made his mouth drop in complete surprise.

In the center of the room was Mitsuki, standing on an A-frame ladder. Her eyes concentrated intently as she took a paint brush and pressed the brush’s tip repeatedly on the ceiling. Though she clearly dipped the brush in a nearby paint-can, no visible paint appeared on the ceiling.

She wore one of Isaac’s old shirts he thought he’d thrown out—a sort of makeshift paint smock. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and the top two buttons were undone, unveiling a trail of love marks from her neck towards her chest. The shirttails barely covered her hips and upper thighs.

“There! It’s finished!” Mitsuki clapped her hands in satisfaction. Her joy was so apparent that it made Isaac want to bask in it for as long as possible. Mitsuki began to make her way down the ladder when she suddenly slipped.

“Waaaaah!”

Mitsuki closed her eyes and braced for impact. Instead, she found herself in the arms of her very anxious lover. Isaac stumbled awkwardly and tumbled with her on the bed. The ladder and paint-can somehow remained upright.

“What in God’s name were you doing?!” Isaac’s voice was breathless as his hands roamed Mitsuki’s body, checking for injuries. Both laid on the bed on their sides in a heap of tangled limbs. Arthur’s previous comments echoed in his brain. “And wearing JUST this with the door open!”

“I was finishing your gift.” Mitsuki pouted, mildly embarrassed. “The door was PARTIALLY open due to paint fumes. I only needed 5 minutes more to surprise you completely.”

“I’m ALREADY surprised! Why must you always risk yourself?” Having found no obvious injuries, Isaac pulled Mitsuki towards him, huffing against her shoulder.

“I always seem to worry you.” Mitsuki carded her fingers through his hair to soothe his nerves. “It’s not my intent, I promise.”

Isaac pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming up and down her body. “Why are you wearing this?” There were plenty of paint smocks available that Vincent could have easily provided.

“It’s yours.” Mitsuki looked at Isaac with heat. “I wanted to feel you. It even smells of spring and black tea like you do.” Mitsuki curled a finger under the collar of the shirt Isaac wore and loosened his tie. With a smile, Mitsuki added. “Although, I much prefer you in the flesh.”

Isaac’s heart leapt at her words. “You, you really are so—“ The remainder of his words were forgotten as her lips pressed against his, a rush of warmth and pleasure flooding them both. Isaac’s mouth quickly poured everything into these kisses, open and eager. Mitsuki’s moans electrified him, her mewls driving him to seek more. He groaned against her lips as she hooked his hip with one of her legs to pull him closer. Mitsuki’s hand began to traverse down his chest towards the waistband of his pants when she noticed a bulge…not where she expected it.

“Isaac?” Mitsuki gasped in surprise—both at Isaac’s fingers as they crept up her thighs and at her discovery. “Is there something in your pocket?”

Pink dusted Isaac’s cheeks. A muffled groan left his lips at Mitsuki’s knowing chuckle. He lifted her wandering hand and laughed softly.

“If you want to be reminded of me, perhaps you should wear this instead.” Fishing inside his pocket, Isaac placed a watch on Mitsuki’s left wrist.

The watch’s band was leather, a dark brown reminding Mitsuki of the bark of cherry blossom trees. The clock face was pure white, with a series of three raised white dots in the middle that looked similar to the buttons of Mitsuki’s everyday blouse. The hour and minute hands were the same tint as Isaac’s eyes. Isaac nuzzled his cheek against her palm before kissing it gently.

“You are the first Mitsuki—first I’ve ever laughed with, first I’ve felt at peace with, first I’ve felt possessive of. My life revolves around you. I cannot imagine a life without your presence. So please—share what time you have with me.”

Mitsuki interlaced her fingers with his, kissing each in turn. “I told you once before and I’ll say it again. My time? You can have all of it.”

Isaac buried his face in the crook of her neck, overwhelmed by her response. A shuttering sigh escaped his lips as he left a trail of kisses across her neck and shoulders.

“Wait, wait! Before we continue, let me show you my gift. Keep lying down, but look at the ceiling.” Mitsuki got up from the bed; Isaac reached out towards her, missing her touch. “Don’t worry, I’m staying in this room. Just…please close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

Isaac complied, quietly baffled but very curious. He heard window curtains moving and lights being adjusted. The bed sheets crumpled around him as he felt Mitsuki lay next to him.

“OK, open them.”

Upon opening his eyes, Isaac was stunned. The room was now encased in mostly shadow, but the ceiling was littered with tons of bright illuminated dots. In the darkened room, the ceiling appeared to be an inky black sky, surrounded by the heavens.

Mitsuki turned to Isaac. Though the room was dark, she could see Isaac’s outline and features up close. “With your recent university position, helping Napoleon with his students, and your own independent research, we haven’t had time to stargaze like we used to.”

“So,” Mitsuki tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I decided to bring the stars to us.”

Isaac stared at the ceiling in wonder. “How did you do this?”

“Leonardo created the paint. It looks nearly invisible in the daylight. But in the dark, you see this.”

“I can’t believe you—“ Mitsuki placed a finger on his lips.

“You’re Isaac. And you’re worth it.”

Her words sunk in, enveloping him in a winding warmth. He repositioned his body, his forehead resting on hers. “One thing about stars—however pretty, they remain far away. But you—you’re always here.”

Mitsuki squeezed Isaac’s hand, hearing his unspoken words. “You aren’t alone. Not anymore. I’m here to watch clouds, stars, constellations—anything that brings you joy.”

With a soft, boyish smirk, Isaac cupped her face before leaning closer. “Then let me watch you instead.”

[weenwrites]

Hello! Just finished reading your Rachet soulmate au post. I loved it!🧡🧡🧡 Could you do one for Starscream too?🥺🥺🥺

Soulmate AU Part 2

Summary - In a world where people are bound by destiny to meet their soulmate, how would a cybertronian react to learning their soulmate is a human from Earth? Characters - Starscream Content - Angst, Fluff Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - None

✎ A/N: Sure thing! Also I'm real happy to know you enjoyed the previous ones I did!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

First Words/Soulmate's Name: Starscream would come to the realization that his S/O was most likely an alien from another planet, and he did have a couple expectations. That the universe would match him with someone whom he'd consider worthy, but he's heard about other peoples' soulmates and how they're sometimes a disaster or how sometimes someone's soulmate is the person you'd least expect, but he still can't help but get his hopes up.

He used to bear his soulmark so very proudly, (also in hopes that it would help him find his soulmate quicker) so you can imagine how upset he is when he discovers his soulmate is a human. Other bots aboard the Nemesis would occasionally mock and ridicule him for being destined to a human soulmate, so much so that he now hides it and actively tries to avoid meeting his potential soulmate by staying away from human populated areas.

He tries to keep himself and his potential soulmate from ever meeting, no matter the cost, and no matter how much other people tell him that he can't stop something that's fated to be, it doesn't deter him from trying in the slightest.

A Beautiful Flourish of Color/Something Else: He'd have absolutely no idea that his soulmate was a human, so even after he came to Earth, he wouldn't hide it out of shame. But he would worry over loosing it or the possibility that it would get damaged, so he tries to take care of himself the best he can (which he always has, ever since he learned he was destined to have a soulmate).

How it Goes: The first meeting, no matter where or when it happens, never goes well. No matter how nice you seem, or how friendly you are towards him, he holds so much resentment towards you—despite not knowing you—that he's the one who ruins the first meeting. If, for some reason you stick around, and he sees you frequently, he always acts so snappy and gives you an attitude, more than he does anyone else. It'll take a long time for him to even consider giving you a chance, and whether you meet before or after his encounter with M.E.C.H. will make it harder to get close to him.

He tries to avoid you like the plague, but chances are that Megatron's decided to punish him by assigning him as your guardian and you as his charge, so he can't really stay away from you. Not when he's now responsible for your general safety. He's thought of trying to get rid of you, but Megatron made it clear that he has to keep you alive unless he wants to be punished.

He'll give you an attitude, he'll poke and cringe at you, and he'll point out how much he despises you. He does you the bare minimum by giving you even a crumb of his time, and he complains about how 'needy' you are. You might have even heard him talking to Knockout, ranting about how much he hates the universe for offloading onto him the burden that is watching after you.

If you keep on trying to befriend him, he happens to warm up to you in time. How this happens, he does not know, but he seems more open to talking to you than he was in the beginning. Although, he's still as snappy and rude at times, so it may seem like hardly anything's changed between the two of you.

The more he learns about you, the more he truly begins to open up and be less harsh and rude. And the closer he grows, the more he regrets all the things he's said and done. Only in private does he become more vulnerable and open with you, and only then will he understand why Primus gifted you to him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Mr. Hansen,” you eke out as you pad after Lloyd. 

“Did I tell you to speak?” He grumbles. 

You walk with an arm across your chest and your other hand hiding your vee, “no, but I forgot my phone in the car--” 

“You don’t need it,” he tosses over his shoulder as he leads you to the staircase, the steps wide and polished. 

“Hm, guess I wouldn’t have pockets for it anyhow,” you comment as you follow him up, uncertain what else to do. 

He growls and says nothing else. You see the tension in his shoulders and clutching in his hand, balling and unballing at his side. He tilts his head slightly as if talking to himself, gesturing slightly in his unspoken monologue. He seems stressed. You might be too if you had a hostage. Hostage may be a generous term; you’re not worth much of a bargain. 

He pushes through a door so hard it nearly thwacks the wall behind it, stopped only by the resistance of the hinges. You stop in the doorway as he crosses the spacious office and nears the sleek glass top desk. You take in the decor, all of it shiny and modern. He’s got a good eye. Or hired somebody with one. 

He sits in the white leather chair and puffs, his feet set wide as he scowls. His arms drape over your sides and he narrows his sights at you. You try to make yourself smaller as your nakedness sets you on fire. 

“What the hell are you waiting for?” He snarls. 

You smile sheepishly and step inside slowly, “er, I’m wondering that too--” 

“Get over here,” he points between his knees. 

“Oh, okay,” you giggle nervously and cross to the desk, coming around stand beside him. 

“What the hell are you doing? Get underneath,” he flicks your arm and you wince with a hiss. “Gotta train that mouth right so let’s get going.” 

You furrow your brow and the corners of your mouth tug down. He’s so gross. He lifts his chin and stares up at your defiantly. 

“Got something to say, cause what I want you to do with that mouth has nothing to do with chatting, sweet lips,” he reaches up and drags a finger across your lips and pokes between them.

You turn away, swatting him as you back up.

“Hey,” snaps and points in your face, “watch yourself. The hard my dick gets, the thinner my patience.” 

You curl your lip and repress a shudder. You can still taste him. Gross. He didn’t even let you wash your mouth out. 

You reluctantly back up and tread around the other side of the desk. He leans back and undoes his fly. You hold your breath as you try to repress every comment that flits across your mind. It will all be easier if you just be quiet. Just get it over with. And it wasn’t that bad, the end was just a bit icky. 

You close your eyes and lower yourself with a tortured strain in your cheek. Stop thinking about it. If you don’t think and just do, then it won’t be so weird. You open your eyes to dip under the desk and crawl beneath the glass. 

He pumps himself with his hand and you grimace. You get closer, staring down his... little monster. Little... you suppose it’s a good size. I mean, he could be in one of those videos you’ve seen on the internet. And yet, some of the men you’ve seen in those aren’t exactly hunks. 

You gulp and snort through your nose. Stop. It’s not funny. It’s just weirdly flesh and the veins that stick out are distracting.  

He brings his other hand down to grab your chin and forces you closer with a growl. You nearly smack your head off the edge of the desk’s frame. 

“Laugh one more time,” he warns. 

You seal your lips as he aims his tip at your mouth. You make yourself open up and stretch around him. The sensation of his smooth, slightly ridged skin presses to your tongue, and he pushes you deeper. He hits your reflex and you twitch, letting out a gag. He holds you there and you kick your feet, clawing at his pants. 

He lets you up and shoves you back down. He drags you along his length as slobber smears around your mouth and you puff through your nose. The motion makes you dizzy and your throat burns as he forces his way in. 

Your hand drifts further up beneath his shirt and you feel the hard muscle of his stomach. A fleeting thought flickers in your mind as you spread your fingers wide across his middle. You try to slow him down but he’s relentless. 

You swirl your tongue around his tip as he eases you back and he flinches, letting out a whine. You do it again. It must feel good as his grip loosens on you. You drag your hand down and graze along a wrinkle in the top of his slack pants. He groans. 

Slowly you feel him relaxing. That’s better. The pressure in your neck lessens and you flutter your fingers along his hand. He lets go of his base and you brush along his sack. He grunts again, clutching the arms of the chair. You tickle as he squirms and grip his tightly. You’ve seen lots of videos. 

You stroke him in time with your mouth. You feel his control dissolving as you take over. For once in your life, you feel powerful. It’s like a joystick and you can make him do whatever you want. 

“Toots, hold on,” he breathes, “you’re gonna--- not again--” 

You stop and pop your lips off him abruptly. You angle your head to look at him through the desk and see how his cheek ticks and he furrows his nose. He sucks in air and holds it in. He lets out a drone. 

“Shit, you almost—almost got me,” he utters, “you gotta slow your roll, cheeks.” 

You slant your mouth and arch your brows. Suck my dick. Don’t suck my dick. Just like one minute, he hates you and the next he’s snatching you up. He’s as whimsical as a rainstorm.  

“Don’t give me that look,” he sighs and sits back again, “just--” he shows a palm, “slow. I wanna savour it, sweet lips. You should too.” 

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter 6

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: Thursday night is spaghetti night. WC: 3.3K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 5 >>> Part 7

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

----

The plan for tonight was spaghetti.

Amy usually does her best to stick to a few consistent staples when cooking. It wasn’t that Harris was a picky eater. She was about as adventurous as any 7-year-old could be, happy to at least try anything once before falling back on her favorites. 

Honestly, though, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets were nothing to sneeze at. 

It was more born out of convenience. Life was already hectic, but the inclusion of a kid and a job and exactly zero partners to help carry the load seemed to make small things like dinner time more stressful than necessary. After struggling for years, Amy stumbled into the mom-blog side of the internet, and meal planning became a new part of her and Harris’s routine. And with that came a (somewhat) scheduled weekly menu. 

Thursday night was spaghetti night. 

Amy wasn’t sure how to explain that or her lack of a last minute babysitter or the fact that Harris needed extra help with her spelling without eating into the short time Marcus already had so she settled with a pathetic, “Sort of?” 

Maybe it’s the fact that he knows her so well. Or that he’s also a single parent who also doesn’t know how to have a social life. But either way, Amy’s answer doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He shoots her that familiar smile, teeth and dimple still enough to steal her breath away, and promises to find her when he’s done. 

She heads back to her desk after that, turning her focus to the mountain of paperwork she had been avoiding for the better part of her morning. It’s a welcome distraction, her heart always too fixated on what Marcus may be doing downstairs. Police tactics weren’t exactly angelic; a fact that had kept her up more nights than she cared to admit and she knew he had his own feelings on the topic. 

But what would Marcus ask that Derek or the detectives wouldn’t? More importantly, how would he ask? 

She pushes her concerns to the back of her mind for the time being. It didn’t do her any good to worry. She trusted Marcus to walk the tightrope that stretches out in front of him. She just hoped he has a backup plan in case his steps ever faltered. 

The coffee he left her is still warm, the taste of cinnamon sharp and sweet on her tongue. She sips at it slowly, checking boxes and stamping seals and avoiding the treacherous tick of the clock. She doesn’t have to sit with the feeling much longer, Marcus appears suddenly, his large body squished into the small chair beside her desk. 

“You didn’t try the muffin?” He asks, bypassing his coffee to peek into the pastry bag. 

“You’re the one with the insatiable sweet tooth. I wanted to wait and split it with you.” 

“I’m touched,” he teases with a poke of his foot to her calf. “So…about tonight?”

“Straight to it then,” Amy marvels, scribbling her signature at the bottom of a transfer form. 

“It took me this long to finally work up the courage. Not much can stop me at this point.”  

His hand, so much bigger than her own, reaches out, stilling the nervous scratch of her pen. She turns her attention to him fully, teeth biting into her lip, waiting for him to pull the trigger at point blank. 

“Amy? Will you have dinner with me tonight? 

It slips out before she can take the time to think of anything but the truth. “It’s spaghetti night.” 

“…okay.”

“I mean…in Harris’s case, it’s buttered noodle night. And she has homework. Spelling. Math. Plus reading, which she hates. And we have an 8:30 bedtime and I don’t have a sitter lined up. Usually, it’s my friend Christine but I hate asking last minute. I’m not great at last minute.”

Marcus smiles throughout the entirety of her rambling, his hand never leaving hers, only speaking when her mini-rant comes to an end. 

“I like spaghetti.”

She swears she can feel her heart skip a beat. 

“You do?”

He nods, scooting his chair in closer. “It’s been a while since I’ve helped with homework or done bedtime, but I’ve heard my storytelling skills are off the charts. I even have references.”

“Not much of a first date.”

“I disagree.”

She sighs then smiles, knowing by now there would be little she could say to change his mind. Far be it for her to point out how stubborn Marcus Moreno could be. 

“Meet at my place? Around 6?”

He holds her gaze as he licks his lips and nods, his words reconfirming his deliberate intentions. “It’s a date.”

——

“So I have my cell on me and Miracle Guy will be pulling the late night coverage. Plus there’s the emergency line here at headquarters.” 

Missy watches her dad shuffle and reshuffle the papers on his desk, rattling off the same set of instructions he’s given her at least twice now. 

“Remember, this is intel collection only. You are not to engage for any reason.”

Marcus squares his shoulders and stares her down, eyebrows raised in expectation. She fights down the urge to roll her eyes toward the ceiling, instead nodding at each statement he makes, the tone of his voice veering more towards Heroic than Dad. 

“I want you to make that clear to the others as well. They take point from you out there, not the other way around. Did you review the report I left for you?”

“Yes,” she answers, bending down to tighten the laces of her boots. “And both Wildcard and Wheels have gone over it too.”

He watches her from across the desk, brown eyes sweeping from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes and back again, something somber suddenly filling the air between them. Before Missy can dig into what is bothering him he’s shaking his head and moving around his desk to stand directly in front of her, arms still crossed over his chest. 

“If you read it then you know this is serious.”

“So I need to take it seriously,” she half-groans, this time letting her eyes roll upward, her neck twisting in time with her (slightly) mocking tone. 

“Yes,” Marcus agrees softly, that same somber look in his eyes bleeding out into that one single syllable. Missy chances a peek back at her father, a sudden sweeping of guilt threatening to swallow her whole. “You watch. Listen. Report back.”

She straightens up and nods, letting the levity of everything her father isn’t saying sit upon her shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. And please, please,” he stresses, his tone shifting back towards concerned parent. “Text me the second you get home.”

This really gets her attention. She knew her dad had finally pulled the trigger, making plans with Amy for dinner. He had tried to mention it offhandedly, telling Missy how he was going across town to join Amy and her daughter Harris for dinner at their place. The blush that bloomed across his face was adorable, and despite her instinct to lean into her second-hand embarrassment, she couldn’t help but be excited for him. She had seen Marcus attempt to re-enter the dating pool a few times, but not a single one had him grinning the way this future plate of spaghetti did. It made her smile too.

“Oh, is someone planning on a late night?”

Marcus barks out a laugh, stepping back towards his desk to collect the last of his things, shooting Missy a frown. Unfortunately for her dad, it loses a lot of its steam when the curve of his lips pulls upwards. “Just humor your old man, Mija.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” she hums, still smiling in his direction. “Sure thing.” 

——

Marcus’s palms are sweaty, one hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of wine, the other clutching a bouquet of wisteria, the pink petals tickling his wrist where they spill out over the cellophane. He gives the flowers a glance, biting at the inside of his cheek as he second guesses them. It had caught him embarrassingly off guard when he stepped into the flower shop and realized he didn’t know what flowers Amy liked. Or if she even liked flowers. 

How was that possible?

Other than Miracle Guy, she was practically his best friend. He knew what pens she preferred (ballpoint, black ink), how she took her coffee (no sugar, drowning in milk), how obsessed she was with finishing the Sunday crossword. 

But flowers…?

He stood in front of the display of red roses longer than he was proud, ever aware of the pressure that particular bloom possessed but unable to think of any other idea. And then he glanced back to where a young girl was putting together arrangements, a pile of pink and green to her left. The long stems and curved petals instantly reminded him of Amy, the shape of them matching the swoop of her handwriting. Before logic could kick in, he followed his instincts, asking the girl politely to wrap them up. 

He swallows hard and knocks with the bottom of the wine bottle, the sound of Amy’s voice mixing with Harris’s floating through the door before it’s even opened. Amy flings it open, music floating out around her, the smell of something warm following. She’s still dressed in the clothes she was wearing earlier, only her heels missing, bare toes digging into the plush of her welcome mat. 

“Hey,” she breathes, tilting her head to rest on the door, little tendrils of hair falling down from the messy bun atop her head. 

“Hey,” he parrots back, and then as if suddenly remembering himself, he holds out his hands awkwardly. 

“Is red okay?”

She nods, then steps aside, pulling him in by the curve of his elbow, her eyes shifting from the bottle of wine to the bouquet. 

He laughs and shrugs. “Um, I know it’s a little cheesy…but, well…” 

Amy doesn’t say anything at first, looking over the bunch of wisterias held out to her, her cheeks warming over with a soft tinge of pink. She swallows around nothing and nods again, finally finding something to say.

“It’s been a really long time since someone brought me flowers.”

She takes the bouquet gingerly, cradling it between her hands and turning towards the kitchen, motioning for Marcus to follow. A small cough catches his attention, Harris watching from where she clings to the back of a kitchen chair, wide eyes glued to him.

“Jellybean, you remember Marcus right? From the grocery stores last week?” 

The little girl nods, pigtails flopping forward and backward with the movement, her cheeks tinting the same sweet shade of pink as her mom’s. 

“He’s gonna eat with us. Is that okay?”

She nods again, wide eyes shifting back and forth between Marcus and Amy. 

“Hey, Harris,” Marcus greets, bending down to look her in the eye. “What are you working on?”

“Homework,” she whispers, looking back and forth between Marcus and Amy. 

“Oh, yeah?”

She nods again, chin coming to rest on the back of the chair so Marcus can see her whole face. “Mommy was helping me spell.”

“I sure was,” Amy chimes in from where she’s filling a vase with water. “But that sheet is all done. It’s time to do your reading.”

“But Moooooooom,” Harris whines, her bottom lip jutting out as far as she can push it. “Reading is boring!”

“I definitely disagree,” Amy counters back, with absolutely zero heat in her words despite the stern weight of her tone. “Grab your book. It’s 30 minutes tonight. I’ll set the timer. By the time you’re done, you should be able to help me set the table.”

The two of them stare each other down for exactly 3 seconds before Harris caves, grabbing a thin paperback from her bookbag and darting to the couch where she flops down with zero grace. Amy doesn’t say anything else, instead fishing her phone out of her back pocket and tapping the screen to set the timer. Marcus watches from where he leans against the counter, unable to do anything but smile.

“What?”

“Just impressed,” he admits. 

Amy scoffs, opening the drawer to her left and pulling out a corkscrew, tossing it to Marcus with a roll of her eyes. 

“Impressed by what? My stubborn 7-year-old?”

“More like your ability to hold your ground in the face of unbearable pressure.”

He opens the wine with ease, and Amy holds out two wine glasses for him to fill, head tilting in his direction. 

“I mean, you know how it is. You had to do it too.” 

“Yeah, but Missy was 10 by the time I had to do it alone,” he reasons with half a shrug. “She was a little bit more self-sustaining.”

“Still,” she hums, bringing her wine glass to her lips. “You did it.”

“Yeah, though I wish I could get a second run at puberty. I think I may have flubbed that one up.”

Her face drops, something close to horror crossing her features. “Oh, what did you do?”

“Well, first I brought home a pamphlet from the doctor.”

“Marcus…”

“And then I called my mom.”

“Good god.”

“I came really close to asking you.”

The last admission seems to catch her by surprise. She stops suddenly where she’s opening a box of pasta, wide eyes pinned to Marcus. “Why didn’t you?”

“We had only met the year before. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, new friend who puts her job on the line repeatedly so I can be better at mine. Will you come talk to my pre-teen about her changing body?’”

“I mean, when you put it like that,” Amy laughs, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth. The moment is small, the two of them giggling into their glasses, intimate and lived in all at once. It would have been easy to forget they weren’t alone until—

“Moooooommy!”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

“I don’t know this word!” 

Amy moves towards the living room where Harris is calling for her, but Marcus stops her, pressing his hand to the one she has wrapped around her wine glass. 

“Hey, let me,” he offers.

“No, no, you don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” he promises.

Harris is waiting in the living room, a frown pinching at her small features at the sight of Marcus and not Amy. He ignores the look for now, sitting beside her on the couch with an over-exaggerated ‘oof.’ 

“Which word is giving you trouble, kiddo?” 

For a moment she doesn’t answer, still watching him carefully, as if he was a wild animal sent here to interrupt the careful routine her mother has set up for her, but after a few beats she gives in, pointing at her book emphatically. 

“This one!” 

Marcus hums in thought before suggesting they sound it out together. From the kitchen, he can feel Amy’s eyes on him but he refuses to look up, focusing instead on Harris and the task at hand. Once they work out the word together, she asks him to stay. 

“Just in case,” the little girl reasons, her eyes already back on the page. 

Marcus is happy to, settling back into the couch cushions and letting his eyes take in the entirety of Amy’s home. With each sweep of his gaze around the room, he couldn’t help but notice how it seemed so her. Everything had a place, a purpose, and still, it all felt so comfortable. There were pillows and blankets everywhere, candles and twinkle lights, shelves filled with books and records, and Barbie dolls. 

It wasn’t until he turned back to Harris that he noticed the twin bed pushed into the alcove of the living room, decorated in a way that he could have easily mistaken it for another couch.

“That’s where I sleep,” Amy pulls his focus back to where she stands above him, offering him the glass of wine he had abandoned in the kitchen. “It’s only a one-bedroom, and miss queen bee over there needs her own space.”

“Sure do!” Harris squeaks, eyes still pointed at her book. 

Amy laughs, leaning over to tug lightly at one brown pigtail before moving over to the record player. She raises the needle and flips the record with ease. Marcus can’t look away as she carefully sets the needle back down, her hips swaying along to the first bars of ‘Feeling Good.’

“It’s quite a collection.”

Amy hums, admiring the row of vinyl, nodding slowly in agreement. “There’s a good second-hand shop just two blocks over. I can usually find some hidden treasures there.” 

“Is it safe to assume the Nina Simone record belongs to Harris?”

“Obviously,” Amy quips on her way back to the kitchen. 

Minutes later the timer is going off and Harris is whooping with glee, the worn-out pages of Charlotte’s Web forgotten in lieu of a chore that still seems like fun. 

After the three of them finish first and second helpings of spaghetti, and an hour of playtime followed by 3 bedtime stories, Marcus and Amy are shoulder to shoulder, washing the last of the dirty dishes.

“I still can’t believe you have Heroics action figures.”

“You didn’t have fun playing with yourself?”

Marcus swings the dishtowel in his hands at Amy’s hip, but he can’t help but laugh along with her at the memory. 

After plates were cleared and leftovers were stored away, and the dirty dishes left in the sink ‘for later,’ the three of them settled in the living room. The sultry tones of Nina Simone were traded out for the upbeat swing of ABBA, while Harris pulled a box of toys out from under the couch. A mix of action figures and Barbie dolls spilled out onto the floor, and before he knew what was happening, a familiar piece of black and tan plastic was shoved into his hands, the addition of a pink tutu only a little bit surprising. With zero hesitation Harris let him know his costume was, simply put, not pretty.  

“What can I say? They were on clearance,” she shrugs. “Plus, Harris loves Miracle Guy’s fancy cape,” she adds on, turning her attention to the pile of soapy dishes. 

The word clearance catches his attention, adding to the long list of little things Amy did to keep costs down. A one-bedroom apartment, coupons and shopping sales, second-hand stores and used books. There was a guy. Of course, Marcus knows there was a guy. Amy had told him over coffee one day how prince charming hadn’t wanted to step up, and she had no desire to force him to do so. There was zero anger in her then, just the same as she is now, a fact that only has Marcus’s fury mounting.

He lets his jaw tick left than right, fists clenching around the dish towel until his knuckles bleed white. “You know, if you wanted, I could track him down for you.”

“No.” 

She doesn’t ask for clarification. She doesn’t need to.

“Ames…”

“No,” she insists, eyes like fire where they focus on the soapy water, her hands scrubbing furiously at what looks to be a very clean plate. “No, Marcus. This is exactly why I was nervous to start this with you.” 

She stills, brown eyes fluttering open and shut as she breathes in and out. Slowly she turns to him, cupping his cheeks in wet hands, her thumbs stroking a path of suds across his skin. Her smile is patient but painted in a sadness he rarely sees, and when she finally speaks, it’s with more conviction than he thought was possible.

“We’re not looking to be saved.” 

Marcus licks his lips, hands finding the curve of her hip, watching with hungry eyes as a shiver moves up her body from his touch. They stay that way, his broad frame towering over her, her warm cheeks and parted lips inches away from his own. He steps in close enough to taste the wine on her breath, the tip of his nose tickling hers, back and forth and back, until finally, she’s smiling again. Only then does he ask the question burning at the tip of his tongue.

“We’re starting something?” 

“Yeah,” she whispers, leaning back to look him in the eyes. “I think we are.”

----

Part 5 >>> Part 7

A/N: Listen, listen! I know! But we gotta let that slow burn do its thing!

Dedicating this song and this chapter to @jazzelsaur who put this together very quickly while beta reading and now it's basically the theme song for Amy and Marcus.

[turtletimewriting]

Omg omg can you do number 8 with Lee Donnie and Ler Leo? I know Donnie’s the one who speaks logically and all but I think it would be hilarious if Leo used that line to tease Donnie for the way Don usually talks logically and scientifically lolll. You don’t have to ofc! Have a great day :)))

Hells yeah I can! I read it and genuinely thought of it being a Ler Leo so this was fun to write!

“Why are you embarrassed to admit that you’re ticklish?? It’s a perfectly natural physiological response. The nerve endings in your skin are supposed to send alerts to the brain that trigger a response of laughter”

Here's the prompt list if you want to suggest stuff! Would love to write some more. This prompt list is so interesting!!

Here's the previous prompt I was given if you're interested.

Listen this is kinda a weird set up for this prompt but hey ho. I wrote it. Sorry for the long wait!!

_._._

Leo took his role as the gang's doctor very seriously. From kissing booboos when he was a little kid to using Donnie to illegally download medical textbooks, he took a great pride in making sure he could look after his family no matter what happened to them. This was all made difficult considering they didn't match the anatomy of the bodies in the textbooks but that just meant he got to carry a cool clipboard of all his brother's notes. In all his years as Dr Leon, he knew how to handle anything.

Including if his brother was an idiot and dropped an entire tank engine on to his foot.

He had never made a cast and he was trying to hide how excited he was to finally try this out, but by Donnie's deadpan death glare, he probably wasn't succeeding.

"Okay, so it should be fully set?" He asked as he tapped against the firm plaster. It felt pretty solid. God if he managed to do this on his first try then he's truly an untouchable god.

"Am I meant to have my compression sock still on under the cast?"

Uh oh. Oh no. Was it? Was that okay? Will the sock like mess up his foot some more. The cast has already set!

"Uhhhhh..."

"Leo!" He cried out.

"What! I don't know how to do this! They don't exactly make books like 'oh here's how to make your own leg cast to magically cure broken legs'!"

"Literally yes they do!"

"Uhh, maybe we can just pull it out?"

"From under the cast!" Donnie yelled with too much attitude for someone who could've spoken up earlier.

"Yeah? I should be able to get like... a chopstick under the cast and use that to poke it out?" He immediately launched up from sitting by Donnie to raid the kitchen. He snatched a butter knife, a chopstick and Splinter's back scratcher. One of them had to help? Right? Please let this work because Donnie will literally never let him live this down if he doesn't.

"You're serious!"

"Yes!" Leo yelled out louder to assert dominance, "Are you helping me or not!"

He grabbed the chopstick and stuck it into the top of the cast where his toes were sticking out.

"AH! Some waharning please!" Donnie flinched like he had been electrocuted.

"Warning, I need to dig out your dumb dumb sock," Leo snapped.

He could feel the sock there. This very tiny slight resistance when pushing the stick in. With some wriggling he managed to feel the sock to catch. It was slowly starting to be pushed down. Maybe he can push it down, there would be no way to pull it out even though it would easier to go out that way. Oh well, whatever works at this point. He went to hand Donnie the butter knife so he could help but stopped.

Donnie looked tense as all hell. Like if he relaxed even a tiny part for a single second then he'd explode. He was biting his lip violently. Banging his fist into the chair.

"Uhh, you okay there hermano?"

"Just get this over!" Donnie growled. He jolted forward as if to stop him.

"Are you okay?" Leo withdraw the stick, if this was hurting him then they'd all just have to deal with his sock being trapped.

"doN'T REMOVE IT!" Donnie shrieked, throwing his head back.

Leo panicked and stopped everything. "What's going on!" He asked not at all hysterically.

"Nothing!" Donnie shrieked like a sea gull.

"Okay????" Leo slowly pushed the sock down further while making direct eye contact. Donnie jolted again with a harsh shiver down his back. His leg twitched wildly under his soft grip. "Don! If this is hurting then just say! None of this is a big deal." Probably.

"No..." Donnie looked completely beyond embarrassed.

Like the time he had found Donnie talking to the computer chip he was working on. More embarrassed than the time he found the self insert slash atomic lass fanfiction.

"Bro?" He asked, starting to feel his stomach flop in worry.

"It's nothing!"

"It's clearly not nothing!"

"It's not a big deaAH!"

"See it's a big deal!"

"Don't move it!"

"Then what's the problem!" Leo yelped, they were practically screaming at each other. It was a sheer miracle that none of the others had come in to investigate. But then again, this is usually how their bonding went.

"It tickles, okay!" Donnie shouted to the heavens.

Oh thank god. Leo could actually feel himself go boneless with relief. "Oh, that's it?" He grabbed the stick and now violently poke the stick further into the cast to push his sock out. "Why are you embarrassed to admit that you’re ticklish?? It’s a perfectly natural physiological response. The nerve endings in your skin are supposed to send alerts to the brain that trigger a response of laughter."

Donnie was back to pounding the chair. "stOP TALKING ABOUT IT!"

"It's a natural response. Society will tell you that you'll grow out of it but it's just a physiological reaction-"

"AAAAH! Stop dohoing it! Go slower! AH. AHAH."

"-There's no shame or embarrassment. Everyone's a little ticklish. It's all okay."

"Stop! Stop! Stohop talking about it!"

But just like the older brother he was (which he is, thank you very much, ignore all propaganda otherwise), he had sensed weakness. And that sock was very tricky. He totally needed to wiggle the chopstick from side to side. To make sure all the sock was being pushed down.

Donnie bite into his wrist.

"As a doctor, I can tell you in full confidence that it's perfectly natural to be ticklish. Healthy, even! I've had a few ticklish patients in my day." He carefully and slowly drew the stick back up. "You might find it better to laugh. There's no judgement here."

Now he was just waiting for Donnie to break and by the bright shade of neon red he was turning, it wouldn't be much longer until he did.

"I didn't even realise you were still ticklish. I can note that on your file so that I know in future to be gentle when handling sensitive areas. I guess it would make sense you're still ticklish. And your feet were always a bad spot, weren't they. Well, it's all okay."

"AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAA!" Finally Donnie cackled. His head thrown back with the sheer power of the crawling tickle under his cast. The feeling of his sock slipping down somehow making it feel more embarrassing. The tingles left by the stick lingering and building all over the top of each other. A tickle that wouldn't fade. He couldn't even scratch it away since there was a stupid dumb dumb cast in the way.

"It's perfectly natural. Now sit still," Leo teased with the smuggest of grins.