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#they are a company and these working conditions are INSANE

weasleykisses · 7 months

Text

Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)

A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.

18+ Version Here

Word count: 6.2k

You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading.

“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all.

You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”

“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?

You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of.

You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?

Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”

He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. “No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing.

Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.

He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut.

“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.

“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”

“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him.

“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.

“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”

“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.

“Anyway, what would I have to do?”

Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”

“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.

Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal.

“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.

Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though.

“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”

“Okay.”

He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted.

“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.

Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.

You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little.

But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.

______

The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him.

The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics.

In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily.

You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else.

You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous.

Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.

He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.

He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”.

“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.

The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air.

“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you.

“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning.

He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did.

“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed.

“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think.

Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process.

“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.

And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be.

It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.

There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.

You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.

You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air.

You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”

“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you. He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.

But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.

“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him.

James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment.

In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted.

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”

He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.

It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.

He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.

He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.

Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.

“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next.

He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in.

You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”

Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears.

“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”

And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face.

You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right.

Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime.

Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.

______

You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish.

Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober.

“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair.

It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different.

You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more.

He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.

He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.

He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.

But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.

Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.

He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.

You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”

You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him.

You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush.

You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”

And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic.

Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown.

“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.

James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded.

As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world.

Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way.

“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door.

You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus.

He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway.

You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart.

You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his.

“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind.

“I love you.”

You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet.

“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”

He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”

“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”

“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”

“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again.

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”

“James knew how you felt about me?”

“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”

“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”

You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.

“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter #remus lupin #marauders era #remus lupin fanfic #fake dating #harry potter fanfic #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #hp fanfic #fem!reader

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sullina · 2 months

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genuinely insane that diet culture poisoned people will insists that, if they don't diet, they'll just "eat cake all day" or some other type of sweet candy

because... that's not how it works

like, if you completely give up any sort of dieting and go for intuitive eating (meaning: listening to your own body and giving it what it craves), you're probably gonna be eating "unhealthy" at first, because you've been denying your body something it desperately needs.

For one person, that can be sweets.

For another, that can be fast food.

Just imagine literally anything that could potentially deemed "unhealthy" by diet culture, and someone is gonna crave just that once they start intuitive eating.

But back to my point No one is gonna be eating "only cake" if they don't make a conscious effort to monitor every little thing about their diet, because that's not how the human body (or any living body) works. It's your body's job to keep you alive and well. This includes your diet. Your body knows you can't live entirely off of cake. It's gonna crave salty things, too, not just sweet stuff. And by "salty", i mean, like, an actual meal.

And believe it or not, but vegetables? Can be fucking amazing. On the condition that you focus on making a meal that tastes good instead of being "healthy". Believe it or not, but you're gonna benefit more from a vegetable medley that tastes fucking amazing, than you're gonna get from the same vegetables but raw and unseasoned. I'm not kidding, how much you enjoy your food has a real and measurable effect on how many nutrients of said meal you end up absorbing.

Another benefit of intuitive eating I've personally found is that I'm much more willing to try new things, especially new vegetables. Like, I'm seirous, just listening to your body and trusting yourself to know what you need, like how every single living being, including humans, have been surviving for literal millions of years, is actually really good for you. Cutting out entire food groups, because some """health official""" being paid billions of dollars to say that it's unhealthy and what you REALLY need is their company's product, is NOT good for you. At all.

#intuitive eating #body positivity #anti diet

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jedifarmerr · 2 months

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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.

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.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miler x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller

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bella-goths-wife · 25 days

Note

I wasn't sure initially but after reading them all I must admit I've enjoyed your Yandre Vs x pet posts and love Velvette in particular. Can you do something similar but just for Velvette? Either Yandre, she owns your soul or just an obsessive girlfriend (general neutral reader).

Yandere girlfriend velvette

Warnings: obsessive behaviour but not as bad as pet series, reader is an objectively bad person but in a the devil wears Prada way, ooc velvette?

This isn’t canon to the pet series and is a completely different au! So reader is not pet and is treated significantly better

First of all, you’d have to be something special for velvette to treat you as an equal, let alone develop a romantic relationship with

And you were definitely something special

You were a fashionista demon who died in the 2000s, but your death would not stop you from building an empire

You created unique clothing pieces that blended the fun and freeness of the previous generations with a fresh Y2K style

Think monster high outfits, your outfits held darker and lighter tones blended together which incorporated different cultures from all over the world

You also had a unique ability that helped you with this, you had the ability to put your emotions into the clothing you’d handcrafted

Literally, so if you made a scarf while feeling sad, whoever wore the scarf would then feel sad for however long they wore the scarf

This made your brand unique and gave you an edge that stood out from the other companies

You started out on market stalls but eventually you gained investors and expanded into a company that even had hell’s celebrity’s wearing your clothes

Stolas had commissioned you to make Octavia’s debut dress, veroskia had asked you to create her entire wardrobe for her tour around the hells rings and even the Lilith was photographed wearing one of your dresses

You had officially built your fashion empire that you’d always dreamed about and you even owned your own tower

This unfortunately meant that you couldn’t keep up with demand and handcraft each clothing item and would have to expand the workforce and hire skilful factory workers

This meant that your ability to put your emotions into the clothing wouldn’t work, so you made a limited edition line out every year with one new clothing item coming out every month

Each outfit would have a theme that connected with the emotions, so you’d do a rouge rage or a cerulean calm

You’d sell these to the highest bidder and would quickly become your top earning products with brawls happening at the bidding wars

But your company being successful only made your bad personality traits worse as you became more demanding and perfectionist to your staff in a way that made you a bad person but in a devil wears prada way that had the newer generations of demons calling you an icon

You had an attitude very similar to velvettes, only with the skills and the maturity to carry it

Velvette hated watching you grow your empire so much that it almost rivalled hers in popularity and income

She hated that you’d practically done it all by yourself while she had relied on Vox financially and he only did that because of his interest In her abilities with social media

She hated that she actually liked your clothing and she hated that your ability made you stand out

But she hated most of all that you two had come to hell within months of each other, yet you were a respected ceo and overlord while she was seen as a joke by overlords and parts of the fashion community

She also hated how insanely pretty you were, but she didn’t come to terms with that until later

She would try and do anything to discredit you and make it so your popularity would go down when you were neck and neck

She tried ‘exposing’ you on social media for having poor working conditions and being rude to workers but she forgot this is hell and literally no one cares

She tried slandering you and your clothing brand on social media, but she forgot your modern and you know how to use social media to your advantage too

You kinda turned into a meme similar to the Wendy’s twitter memes whenever you clapped back at velvette

She tried to pull your investors by threatening them with voxtech legal action, but you’d become self sustaining and could handle the loss with having hells celebrities commissioning your personal pieces

She tried to make you look foolish in front of the other overlords, but they all respected you much more than they respected her

She even tried to copy one of your designs but you called her out and she had to do one of those influencer apology videos but it mostly just consisted of her badmouthing you and justifying her actions

Her hatred bored on obsession with how regularly she stalked your profiles and life

After around ten years of this rivalry, you grew bored with it and you were running out of ideas

So you contacted the Vs and sat down in a meeting with them where you suggested a collaboration of the fashion designers on your terms

Velvette wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but Vox insist that it would be extremely profitable and practically forcing velvette to accept

So you started a collaboration

You and velvette butted heads a lot or some stylistic choices

It was so bad that eventually you couldn’t be in a room together for a few weeks

This collaboration took months, and during this time velvette got to hate you up close as she got to know every annoying detail about you

Except that hatred changed to something different over the months she worked with you, you intrigued her in a way that no one else has ever before

It all came to a stop one night when you two had gone out to a club together for social media promo for the upcoming collab

You shared drinks and complaints about one another and one thing led to another and you two had a drunken make out session in the back of the limo

But velvette hauled ass as soon as she realised she was swapping spit with her arch nemesis

She laid in bed and thought about her actions

Could all of those years of feeling hatred and jealousy towards you just been her suppressed attraction to you?

Could all those tense moments she assumed was awkward tension actually been sexual tension?

The thought made velvette want to scream into a pillow

She pushed her feelings down and decided to just avoid you until the collab was over

She thought it would be easier to hate you rather than face her obvious attraction to you

You tried talking with her many times during the collab but she just ignored you, and this hurt you deeply

So you complied with her wishes and after the collab ended you went back to living your lives without each other

But velvette found herself missing you and being around you

Staff especially noticed that she was much harsher to them then before

She felt herself wanting to reach out to you to beg you to either kiss her or reject her because surely rejection would be easier to deal with than this

But it all changed when rumours started circulating

Velvette had been innocently scrolling through social media until she came across a drama channel that claimed to have spotted you in a romantic moment with none other than veroskia mayday

Velvette found herself consumed with absolute disgust and jealousy

She stalked yours and veroskia’s profile and begged Vox to use his hypnosis to send trolls to verkoskia’s profile

The rumours were cleared up after you made a response that claimed that you and veroskia were only friends, but velvette still felt consumed with rage

She did something completely out of character

She went to you at your place of work and cornered you in your office before confessing every little feeling she’d ever had for you

She practically begged you to be with her, but you just sighed and explained that she had hurt you with her actions and that you couldn’t see yourself in a relationship with her

“It would hurt the brands” is what you also said, and that cut velvette deeper than any knife

She had felt pathetic, and she’d never feel pathetic in any relationship

Even before she had gotten to know you, your instant rise to success left her feeling small

You held power over her, and maybe that’s why she was so obsessed and attracted to you

She’d felt surrounded by people who were less than her all her life, and falling for you felt like finally finding an equal

And she wasn’t going to let you go that easily

She’d destroy you and your company if it meant that you’d love and rely on her

Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you want me to make this another series

Tag list:

None yet, let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works like this for this if it becomes a series :)

#hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

Note

hungry for titus & executioner reader. insane even. i bet my left lung titus was lying nude in the table with his cock hard in all its glory. was it the anticipation of potentially being brutally defiled by his "angel" executioner? or was it the cold air hitting his body? who knows.

do you think his fantasies of being violated by executioner interfere with his work? or is he diligent enough to not let it get in the way? would he let down an entire nation/empire just for his darling? did he fall head over heels before or after employing his darling?

i also love the concept of executioner with HUMONGOUS amounts of bloodlust, it's as equal and if not more than titus' libido. just straight up sadistic executioner — who relishes the screams, the cries, and the whines of their victims — it's music to their ears. and you wanna know what? they're also hysterical & weird. laughing out of immense satisfaction of violating their prey, drooling at the thought of skinning & carving their next victim. and they giggle — so much — when they present their bloody gift to titus. "i got'cha a little gift, master!"

speaking of their master, they are eternally grateful for them — for granting them the liberty to fulfill their selfish desires. it's two birds with one stone to them, harming people in the name of their desires, and harming people in the name of titus. despite their gratification and loyalty to the great tyrant, their view of each other is still not equal. like our cold executioner, they will do anything for their lord, but titus' offer of allowing them to ravage them, it's over the line.

i love them a normal amount your honor

That's a fun idea, but I wanna stick with cold Executioner Reader for the time being. I'm all for sadistic darlings, but I like what Executioner has going on now. An emotional stunted, husk of a person. Killing comes as natural as breathing to them. They can't sleep without the sound of screams to keep them company, they can't eat or accept gifts without their prize feeling earned. They hold more loyalty to their post than their ruler which is why they willfully follow Titus after he slaughtered their previous employer.

Titus develops a bit of a savior complex when it comes to them as he hopes to break this mentality at least to the point where they are accepting of his love. Dresses them in the finest attire, feeds them foods that are probably a shock to their senses compared to the bland filth their former ruler fed them. Tried to give them their own bedroom, but after finding Titus in their bed one night they solely stick to the dungeon floors. Really only uses the autonomy he gave them to reject his advices.

did he fall head over heels before or after employing his darling?

I'd say he fell for them somewhere between their imprisonment and their eventual promotion to Executioner. While other members of their ruler's guard attempted to fight against Titus hostile take over, Executioner Reader sat back and watched as Titus beheaded their master. He found them a little dull, but upon being captured is where they got interesting. If there's one thing the Executioner despises it's being in chains. Took out a fair chuck of Titus' fleet for the crime of attempt to put them in chains.

Titus figured they'd be an excellent pet after realizing they'd follow along obediently on the condition they weren't strapped in iron. He began to fall for them after barring witness to their expertise with a blade and their closed off nature. He thought it'd be fun to break them out of their shell. The executioner's rejection was the first he faced in some time and while he'd normally have anyone who refused his generous offer killed - he saw them as a challenge. Overtime his kind gestures to get them to warm up to them became more genuine as his curiosity got the better of him. Had his Executioner ever truly smiled? Had they known the joy of laughter and other similar feelings? If they hadn't - he wanted to be the only one capable of giving them such wonders. That was a prize of its own. One of the greatest he could possibly obtain. It took him a while to realize and understand his love for them, but his guard caught on quick.

This is Titus we're talking about. Bro will drop entire events so he can take care of himself because he got horny over a memory of Executioner Reader bringing him the heart of a traitor. If the matter had dire importance he'll try to hold off on his urges, but he'll be grump about it all the way through and immediately seek Executioner Reader's warmth afterwards. It's less of a matter of would he let down something else for them and more when he'll do it.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere emperor #Titus my oc

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drowsyhope · 2 months

Text

NEVER AGAIN - POPPY’S PLAYTIME

summary ; never thought you would come back here, especially meeting your old lover here.

part 2 ; here

a/n ; i like the theory that dogday is possessed by rich, so we finna roll with that

warnings ; slightly gore, cussing, reader is a female but can be read as any gender, mention of divorcing, lowkey short

APRIL 6TH, 1991

“are you sure you need to go to work?” you plead, but to no refusal was coming out of him. he was quick to put his work clothes on, ignoring any pleading that had came out of your mouth. he was surely a pain in the ass.

today was yours and rich’s wedding anniversary, but of course, work comes first, and when they gave him a call asking if he could monitor the new shipment, he was quick on his feet.

it wasn’t common for rich to drop everything and go to that factory, hell, he was so close to dipping out the wedding, but before his mother threatened to take away all the inheritance he was gonna get if she ever died.

it was like his job mattered more then you did, and it hurt. the truth always hurt.

either way, the job of his was weird. it was a factory that specialized in children’s toys, and rich was one of the workers there. everyday when he would come home, he would complain on and on again on how terrible the work conditions were at his job, yet, he would do anything for that job.

“yes, i have to.” he replied, putting on his badge, which had a personalized name tag along with it.

sighing, you walked away from the male, tired that he was going away to his job again, and especially since he had gotten more ticked off lately. it was making you more stressed, and you were close to divorcing him and leaving him on the spot, him and his weird job that he always seems to care about.

but you can’t. that’s the love of your life, your high school sweetheart, the man you always set your eyes on. you can’t just drop everything and leave, like he always does. it’s hard for you to understand what’s happening, but you know that no matter what, you’re staying with this man, till death part the both of you.

JULY 30TH 1994

rich has been acting more off edge now, ever since he has been demoted to the ‘rejected toys room’, which he thought was insane of the company to do. you suggested quitting the job and finding a better one, but rich quickly declined the idea, saying it’s better to stay than leave.

at least he still has avery, who he always have lunch with on fridays. the both of them are good friends, which you’re glad that at least he has someone at work to talk to.

recently, the two of you have been distant, you running around the house making sure it’s clean and food is ready for your husband, in return, you husband working his ass off at the weird factory, always getting angry at every little thing.

it’s more harder that now you have random plush toys in your house, rich says that it’s to calm him down, but you think that they look creepy.

one though, the dog plush, was your favorite, despite its huge smile and its black menacing eyes that stares right into your soul. it had a vanilla scent, and its name was ‘dogday’, which you found adorable.

you would always carry around the plush toy, talking to it as if it was rich, cuddling with it in bed since rich is not there half of the time, pretending that it’s rich but as a plush.

it might seem pathetic, but you missed your husband dearly. you would’ve never guessed how much the two of you have been distant, and how you were slowly feeling replaced by this job. it was all crumbling down on you, but at least you had the dogday plush, it was cute.

either way, you have to thank rich for the plush, it was like a therapy plush. the others plush were nice, but you personally had a bias towards the dog one, as you liked dogs. the catnap plush was a close second.

hopefully, you can reconnect with your husband, maybe beg his boss to give him some time off, have a vacation with each other? just anything to be with him.

PRESENT DAY

now you thank the lord above that you never worked here.

poppy had purposefully crashed the train, resulting in the two of you being separated and you being dropped down a shoot. thankfully, you were quick to get out, realizing that you were now in the playcare sector of the factory. you went through the orphanage, saw catnap who scared the daylights out of you, had a hallucinations, saw a weird looking huggy wuggy, went through the school and always got killed by the teacher, saw catnap worshipping the prototype, and now you were in the playhouse part of the playcare.

how huge was this place again?

crawling through the playhouse, you were met with many of the mini smiling critters, which you thought were adorable. until they started to bite you. using the flare gun , they went away quicker than they came to you.

you felt odd in the playhouse, navigating through the plush maze. the critters followed your every room, but using your flare gun, they went away.

finally, seeing a door, you went through it, being surprised as you saw an empty pool room, with ducks being inside it. it felt uneasy, and you had a frown on your face, thinking that it was going to be an exit.

walking to another door on the other side of the room, you were met with a sort of jail type place, made with plush mats, of course. everything was unnerving, some of the jail cells were broken off, there were dead toys everywhere. some were hanged, some had blood bleeding out of its eyes or neck, some completely didn’t even have a head.

“you .. you’re poppy’s angel ..” your eyes widen, your heart dropped. that voice, it sounded familiar.

you look to see a chained up life-sized dogday, his lower half being cut off from his body, a belt being wrapped around his waist to probably contain the rest of his organs inside. it was horrific, his voice, his black soulless eyes.

“come to save us.” your hand made its way to cover your mouth, trying to contain the scream that was going to come out your mouth. you felt your face growing hot, your ears canceling out whatever he had to say. your emotions were going everywhere, nothing made sense. you thought he was dead, you thought he was 6 feet underground, you thought he wasn’t here no more.

but there is was, all in his glory. well, not quite glory.

“listen to me, you need to get out of this place.” you didn’t say a word, your eyes locking with his soulless ones. it all connected. there was a reason they didn’t want you to see his face, there was a reason it took weeks for them to retrieve his body, there was a reason why the funeral home was confused on why there wasn’t a body. there was a reason why your husband was taken away from you in this God awful place that called itself a loving place.

“i’m not going.” you could practically feel him gasp. the dog — rich, pleaded with you. trying to make you go, saying how the mini critters will come after him, how catnap will come after you.

but nothing was going to make you leave, nothing was going to make you leave your husband once again. nothing was going to let you from not stopping him as he walked out that door to his job. nothing was going to repeat itself once again.

#dogday #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday x reader #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #reader insert #gn reader #female reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Text

Scratches in the Surface

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Investigating Shepherd was a mistake, but the betrayal of John Price hurt more than anything Shadow Company could do to you.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Talks of gore, torture, violence, swearing, blood, angst

A/N: Not really sure if I like this or not, but the idea was good so I kept it. Your codename in this is ‘Key.’ Part 2

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The buzzing lights above you were going to drive you insane faster than the damn clicking of the man’s pen, but you endured the overstimulation of your brain with an expression of boredom.

Click, click-clack, click,

God, You clench your teeth together, either stop that, or I’m going to–

When you go to move your hands over the metal table, the cuffs around your wrists shriek as they slide. The man in front of you pauses, looking up from his file, the manila folder sitting tantalizingly close; your fingers curl over the paper cup to your right, grabbing it and dragging it to your lips.

As you sip the stale water, your eyes bore into the CIA Agent over the rim, unblinking and dead. Feeling the liquid travel down your throat and hit hard into your empty stomach, you watch the man tense in his seat, his eyes averting from your own quickly like you were a blazing fire. Suppressing a smirk, the man clears his throat.

You place the cup down delicately, leaving a small amount of water behind, right as the door behind the man opens loudly, creaking on its hinges and making you cringe.

Your gaze snaps to the familiar head of blonde hair that belongs to Kate Laswell, her stone-cold face more wrinkled since the last time you had seen her. The woman walks through the door, and the Agent gets to his feet quickly, leaving the file on the table.

“Ma’am,” He says, holding onto the back of the chair as he turns to face Laswell, “She hasn’t said anything since she arrived.”

“Thank you, Moore. I’ll take it from here,” Kate sighs deeply, her white dress shirt and black pants swishing as the air conditioning comes on. The lanyard around her neck makes a slight clinking noise as her name card jumps with her steps.

You tilt your head as far as the bandages around your neck allow, feeling the stitches on your throat pull painfully; you hoped your former friend could see the blood already staining the gauze.

The man leaves with clacking shoes, taking the godforsaken pen with him, and Laswell takes his seat. You couldn’t help but compare the scene to a transaction – you being the package thrown between unwilling participants. Not that you cared. The aches and pains in your body demanded retribution; you were more scar tissue now than skin.

The silence between the two of you is thick, eyes clashing in a mute battle of wills you know you’ll win. You’d had four years to squelch every ounce of weakness from your body – waiting, praying, for this moment.

Just as you imagined, Laswell breaks first.

“I never knew that Shepherd was capable of doing what he did,” Her hair collects in a bun at the base of her neck, and her bangs caress her forehead. The Agent’s style hadn’t changed, at least, “When you told me that I should–”

Kate stops mid-sentence.

You watch her gaze fall to your arms on the table and your fingers twitch.

Frowning, you suppose the widening of her eyes was about all the reaction you would get out of her; the one second of horror that sweeps Laswell’s eyes before the practiced calm resettles like mud in the water. But the satisfaction you garner is unparalleled.

“You ever been thrown into a tub full of glass, Kate,” Laswell flinches at the gravel in your throat, vocal cords ripping with every word, “It’s not that bad if you don’t move so much,” You smirk, letting the dry skin on your lips break open, “Kinda hard, though, when you have a million little knives digging into your flesh.”

“I didn’t…” Kate closes her eyes and sucks in a breath, looking away from the mangled remains of the skin of your arms, the more significant cuts starting at your elbow that jaggedly run down your forearm. Those ones weren't made by glass, but you didn’t tell the woman that.

Let her squirm, You pick up your paper cup, grasping the rim and the hard wire hidden in the fold, It’s been a long time since I had that effect on anyone. I want to get my edge back. I need my edge back.

Kate continues her previous sentence, placing her hands on top of the folder on the table and clenching them together. You bring the cup to your lips, sipping down the last few drops before letting your bound hands fall once more. You rest them on your lap and fiddle with the cup, shifting your shoulders to relieve the tension that sits there.

“I didn’t believe you at the time about Shepherd, Key, and that was my biggest mistake. I led an investigation the second you went missing but as far as everyone was concerned you had disappeared off the face of the earth. We had no leads, no information, and no trace,” She sighs, “You have to believe me when I say we did everything that we could too–”

“We?” You scoff, “We? You’re saying you had Price working on this?” You spit out the name as venom leaks from your tone; leaning forward you see shadows move from the corner of your eye.

You had nearly forgotten the glass window to your right, no doubt the multiple shadows barely seen behind the one-way were faces you had prayed to come and save you for all that time in the facility. You knew Price’s outline when you saw it – bulkier than the rest, large shoulders, and the bulge around his head because of that damn black beanie. The fidgeting was a new tick, though. Then again, it had been years. Maybe you had never really known him at all.

You blink, stuffing away that fact with a pounding heart.

Calm down, you growl to yourself, You’re in control. You…You are fucking in control. Don’t think about John Price.

“...That’s really cute. Do you want a medal? A pat on the back?” You grunt and shut down the conversation, noticing you’ve been crushing the cup in your grip under the table, the object shaking from the force of your fingers. Leaning back, you take in a slow breath, “It never really added to much, did it?”

To anyone besides Kate Laswell and John Price, no one would have noticed your sanity fraying at the seams inside your pounding brain. Licking your tongue over your teeth your eyes stay locked with Laswell’s as you feel panic build.

It’s a long time before the woman speaks again. She utters your real name under her breath.

“We tried everything to find you. But as I got sucked more and more into Shepherd’s world, allegations started to gain validity, and the news of your death–”

“And all it took was him losing three American missiles and his little Shadow Company friends killing more than half a city in Mexico?” You force out a chuckle, your white hospital t-shirt uncomfortable over the mass amounts of bandages digging into your skin. Kate brings a hand to her temple, rubbing it with shaking hands, “Yeah,” You deadpan, “They told me about that.”

“Do…Do you know anything about where he might be?”

“Shepherd?” You sputter out a harsh laugh that leaves Laswell swallowing, “what, do you think I’m the center of the gossip ring? They kept me in a fucking dark room for days at a time. The only thing I heard was the rats eating the corpses in the corner and the sound of my blood hitting the drain basin.”

You rose your right hand as far as the cuffs would allow and pointed your thump at the one-way glass, “Until your Toy Soldiers broke me out, that is.”

“Key,” Kate shakes her head and you know what bullshit she’s about to spill, “I can’t imagine what you went through for all those years. If we knew you were still alive I know Price and I would have–”

You tune out whatever Laswell says, fingers fidgeting under the table as you turn your head and itch the thin bandage over your chin with your shoulder, feeling stitches break open. The Ac unit was so damn loud, and that stupid buzzing of the lights.

Fuck, everything’s just too loud, You begin to bite on the skin of your bottom lip, peeling back the flesh until you feel blood dribble down.

Laswell calls your name, and you narrowly suppress a flinch, your eyes flickering closed before snapping back to the woman. You release your lip silently and live with the pain that breeds.

“What?” You numbly question, foot shaking under the table.

“How about I get you something to eat?” Kate draws out and you don’t like the concerned glance she sends to the glass as she shuffles forward in her chair, “They have those mini sandwiches in the cafeteria that you love.” The woman licks her lips, her blue eyes running over the noticeable bulges of bandages and gauze that span your chest and abdomen, down your thighs and legs. The bottoms of your feet, under your socks and shoes, even have wraps. All stained red.

“Not hungry,” You clear your throat through the lie.

“Key,” Kate whispers, “you’re skin and bones.”

“You think I don’t know that, Laswell?” The words set you off, snapping from your lips as your eyes flash and your face twists. The Agent tenses, shoulders locking tight, “I’ve looked like this ever since you and Price sold me off like a fucking dog with a rope around its neck!” Your wild eyes revel in the fear that sweeps Kate’s face. She doesn’t know you anymore, “That was you two wasn’t it? Or are my memories more fucked up than I know…? Huh?! Did the electrocution finally fry my brain?!”

Laswell’s eyes fall to the table.

“I trusted you!” You’re screaming now, guttural and savage; every so often your voice would break, and the shadows behind the glass were all straight as a rod except one, one who slightly hunches as if in guilt, “You both left me to die! I gave you evidence, I showed you facts and you turned me over like I meant nothing to you! Like I meant nothing to Price!” The words hurt you when you spit them out, and the stitches over your throat feel like they’re on fire.

Oh, God, John I wanted more than anything for you to find me – t-to stop it. Stop the pain, stop the torture. I need you. Where did you go, John?

“We couldn’t act on–”

“You trusted Shepherd more than you trusted me! That’s what you acted on. That’s the truth.” You turn your head to the ceiling, trying to stop the vile tears that coat your eyes as you suck in ragged breaths. Your ribs ache awfully.

A minute passes, then two.

The next words come out muffled with numbness, whispered from your bloody lips, “Their deaths are on you. I pass off my guilt of it.”

You could hear a pin drop. Hell, did they even know?

“The bodies in the corner…” Laswell whispers, and you hear her throat get clogged.

“What,” You snicker, “Your forensic team not identify them yet? The ones with their faces still on, that is?”

“Who are they, Key?” Kate whispers but you know she knows the answer already. So does Price.

You turn your head to the glass, finding that familiar shadow and boring your eyes into it blankly. Feeling your tears dribble down your cheeks, you smirk when the black on the other end turns its head away. The others shift nervously before you look back at Kate.

“Shane, Jax, Alice, and Sam.”

Laswell’s eyes snap downward to her clenched hands.

You lean closer, “Look at me,” You growl lowly, “Kate, look at me.”

Her eyes are red when they meet yours and you stifle a deep-chested laugh at the sight. A vicious smile blooms over your cheeks, teeth and all.

“He killed my fucking family, Laswell. My squad. My brothers and sisters that I never even involved in this because I knew how it could end if it went south. And they ripped them to fucking pieces while they were still alive,” You lift a free hand and throw your unlocked cuffs on the table, the small, thin, metal wire from your paper cup visibly stuck in the key slot. It rams onto the surface with a bang. Laswell flinches back, head snapping to the object in surprise, “That’s on you and Price. And I want it to haunt you just as it haunts me.” You tilt your head to the side, nodding towards the cuffs, “Good to see my nickname held up, at least. As you can imagine my tricks don’t work so well on rope or barbed wire.”

A ruckus sounds from the other room, loud shouting, and the rushing of feet. You lean back in your chair, slouching, and not soon after the door to the room slams open; John Price stands in the doorway with a stupid look on his face you can’t help but huff at.

“There he is,” You mutter, staring his blue eyes down as his large frame nearly hits the sides of the wall. You spread your arm out, elbows on the armrests sarcastically, “The other person I’m so eager to see.”

Laswell stands on shaky feet and exits the room, shoving past John as he stares at you. For a moment you see what you could on describe as guilt on his face before it's wiped away the next instant.

Not bothering to speak anymore – you’ve said your piece – you bring your hands up and caress the red skin where the cuffs had been. The area was more sensitive now that the flesh had been torn away time after time while you were held by Shadow Company in some godforsaken facility in the wilderness. You throw the remnants of the ripped-up cup onto the table.

The door closes nearly silently, and heavy feet pad forward. You could lie to yourself and say you don’t feel your heart pounding, but what use would it be?

John sits in Laswell’s chair before palming the once more left-behind file. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, as he slowly flips through the pictures. Pictures of you, of your once perfect body full of scars and burns and bruises over every inch. You swore you saw his fingers begin to shake as he turns another page.

John Price used to be something important to you. A friend, a mentor, and if time had permitted, perhaps he would have been something more. You don’t choose to dwell on these thoughts, but they haunt you still; how he would always prioritize your safety on missions, and give you a rare real smile when you impressed him. His laugh when you slipped out crappy jokes on missions together. The imprint of his calloused hand seemed to forever live on the back of your head, dragging you into a tight hug as you remember an OP in Romania.

On the mission, when a bullet had lodged itself between your third and fourth rib, the outcome had seemed grim – hopeless – but all John did was grab your cheeks and force your eyes on him as the Medic worked hastily, grunting and uttering calmly.

“Eyes open, Sweetheart. Keep them on me, eh…? There you go, atta girl. I’m right here,” It was safe to say you had chosen to stare at those unusually soft baby blues the entire time you were getting Evac. and John had dragged you into the ramshackle head-to-chest-hug the second you were stable, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Talking so sweetly you had wanted nothing more than him.

He had been so much more than a Captain to you.

But that was all so long ago, and the memories were rotted like tree trunks. He was just another face, a handsome one, yes – he still hadn't shaved his beard and the circles under his eyes looked darker than you could ever remember seeing them – but still that rugged charm that was John.

I trusted you, You want to scream at him, hit him, tear his throat out. But in the end, you did nothing, but you didn’t trust me.

The wrinkles around his eyes tighten as he sees the extensive claw shreds over your back on one of the printed sheets, the impression of dog teeth over your left shoulder blade and right thigh.

You feel a tightening in your throat.

“They liked their dogs,” You mutter, “That’s for sure.”

Price’s throat bobs.

“German Shepherd?” He asks, accented voice thick, picking up the picture and grasping it so tightly the corner creases.

“Nah, Doberman.”

“Hm,” He grunts, finally looking up from the picture to stare into your broken eyes. Against your better judgment, you look away first, not able to stand the unwavering blue with that specific emotion staining the iris. John was different from Laswell. He…He had meant more.

That’s why it hurt so much to be near him because he would always mean more.

Under the table, your feet shook. John cleared his throat, placing the image down and closing the file before he, in the buzzing of the lights and the whishing of the Ac, whispers your name under his lips.

You’re ashamed of the way it makes you feel like you could cry, your body freezing. Only he could utter it in that way. You had waited to hear him say your name every single day you were stuck with the Shadows.

“Save it,” You nod your head his way once, not looking up from your lap, “I don’t want your apology, Price. It’s done.”

The Captain’s head nods firmly, ever the gentleman, chin jerking as he clenches his jaw. John’s fingers close your file and he taps it with the back of his knuckles, prompting you to raise your gaze to follow the motion.

“I want every name you can remember, yeah?” You pause, for a moment you thought you hadn’t heard him correctly. Under the table, you can feel your knee spasm with nerves.

Picking your gaze up, you travel the length of Price’s tight gray shirt; looking over his combat vest and all the tiny pouches holding only he knows what. You settle on the man’s eyes with a small hitch in your breath. He looked furious, downright lethal.

John’s shoulders were tense, muscles vibrating with badly concealed anger. At his neck, he had a visible tendon from how hard he was clenching his jaw. Had he not read the file before now? Seen the pictures? Or was that not even the point? You frown, shifting in your chair with nervousness. Your head was all messed up.

Logically you knew his anger wasn't directed at you, but you could never be too cautious when it came to someone you haven’t seen in a while. Men had been the source of your problems for four years, and even if you knew John the thought remained that if you had changed so drastically, so could he.

At your silence, Price pauses, blinking a few times before he realizes his hand is clenched on the table, nails biting into his skin. He leans back into the chair with a heavy inhalation, bringing a hand up to rub over his face. John holds a hand over his mouth for a moment, eyes closed, and you watch him and his unsteady breaths that echo through the interrogation room. His chest sputters.

So now he cares, You ask bitterly, blinking away the anxiety in your bones with false calm, now he wants to help.

“Where was that anger when I asked you to help me investigate Shepherd?” You whisper, saliva stuck under your tongue.

John never answers and not a second later he’s standing and stalking out the door with measured steps, but manages to close the door softly behind him before his form disappears.

Come back, You want to plead the second the lock latches, your hands shaking violently in your lap, don’t leave me alone here, John. Don’t leave me alone. I-I can’t be alone again.

But you say nothing.

Outwardly no one can analyze your body language the way that the Captain or Laswell could. All they see is a blank slate waiting to be filled sitting stone-still in an interrogation room. Left alone, all you can do is force back the tears and listen to the loud buzzing and the whining of the Ac, trying with all of your might to forget Captain John Price and the damning comfort his presence still brings you after years of hell.

But how could you forget him? All of the good memories you have left are of him; the only ones untainted by blood or a dark room with no light. The shrieking of rats is like a symphony of death that plays on repeat in your head, digging into the small spaces in your ribs and intestines. But you welcome it because anything is better than thinking about John. Of the times you shared with him.

The betrayal itself is less painful than the memories.

#john price #john price x reader #John price x you #modern warfare #MW2 #cod #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod x you #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #mw2 2022

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born-in-hell · 1 month

Text

Ive been seeing lots of opinions on the QSMP admin situation here, after both Dapper and Pomme resigned and Quackity's statement, and i feel like some things should be said:

Firstly, yes, the abusive higher ups are to blame, immensely. But Quackity, as the CEO, is not free of responsibility. Not being involved, at all, with such an immense project, as the head of it all, is honestly so insane.

(I genuinely believed he didn't participate on the QSMP as a player because he worked so much behind the scenes, and it's unbelievable to me how he lied to us all.)

We must remember this is his project. With his name. He won awards and recognition worldwide because of it. He has so much to lose with all this situation. Money, reputation, friends.

Lets remember the admins have nothing to lose, at this point. They have no reason to cover things up or lie, unlike the Quackity Studios higher up team.

Now, about the statement he made last night.

The "legal reasons" — despite being a coherent explanation for not telling us, the audience, anything — arent an excuse for completely ghosting his employees. In fact, communicating actively with the people that work for him, could avoid him a lawsuit.

The leaks are not an excuse for not communicating w his employees. Keep in mind, Léa only came out because of the lack of communication. If Quackity had dealt with this stuff internally — as he should've done — Léa wouldn't have gone public in the first place.

Grouping all these people — the exploited and tired workers and the disappointed fans — into mere "haters" and saying they all just want the project to fail and to ruin Quackity's image is a really bad faith statement. Either he does not understand the situation (which is, imo, still really bad for him as the owner and CEO) or he just wants to discredit every and all criticism.

I can bet u every single admin in there put their heart and soul into the project. Their 2023 was defined by the project. They withstood way too much just so the project and Quackity's image would be protected, that's why we never heard about any of the exploitative conditions they worked under until Léa came out.

Most — if not all — of the admins signed up bc they love the QSMP, and wanted to help make it the best it could be.

But everyone has a limit. And this was theirs.

This might not be the end of the QSMP. But how will it hold up to what it was, without the eggs, the fun NPCs, the french, and Bad? I dont know.

About the Union:

Not emailing Quackity and waiting for him to contact them is certainly one of the decisions ever made. I don't quite understand the logic behind it, to be honest. It's not illegal, as far as i know, and i don't know how common that is, despite believing it's not very.

And i don't believe we should hold Quackity entirely responsible for not talking to them. Although, someone, like Aypierre, or Bad, or Antoine, or anyone else that has access to him and knows about the Union's involvement, must've told him.

Or not, we don't know.

And about the statement being public, i believe it was intentional. It's a public threat to him. They don't merely want to sue Quackity Studios, they want us, the fans, to know why they want to sue and that they are going to sue if they can't reach an agreement.

They are mobilizing the audience.

If that's a good move or not, judge it yourself.

I just believe not holding Quackity accountable for his decisions, as the owner of the company is wrong. And holding him accountable is not the same as hating the project.

#qsmp #qadmin situation #qsmp situation #quackity

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sunoorintarou · 7 months

Text

Catharsis: Cantarella

Phos!reader x (Platonic) Mahito

Warnings: Mahito being Mahito and everything that entails, funnily enough, this is one of, if not, the fluffiest parts, Mahito calls reader his 'test rabbit', reader somewhat enjoys Mahito's company, Mahito licks reader's hand

Notes: Mahito haters beware 💀🙏

"I know you can see me. Hey, stop ignoring me."

Your eye twitched as you walked, attempting to ignore the rather annoying humanoid curse as he followed you around.

You had simply snuck out to the convenience store, craving ice cream that particular night. On your way out, you had noticed an odd looking man on the street, realisation kicking in when you felt a large amount of cursed energy.

Your eyes widened when you made eye contact, immediately turning away and walking slightly faster. His face fit the description of a curse your team had faced while you were in a coma months before perfectly.

You knew you were in no condition to fight, especially with how tired you were, so your only option was to pretend you couldn't see him. You hadn't expected him to start following you, though, walking a couple feet behind you as he spoke to you.

You couldn't go back to Jujutsu Tech, not with him following you, but you weren't quite sure where to go. So, instead, you found yourself walking the familiar path back to your family home.

"Hey." Your eyes widened when you felt a cold hard grab your wrist, pausing in your footsteps.

"That's strange. I can't see your soul. Are you a Jujutsu Sorceror?" The curse asked, an unsettling smile spreading across his face.

"What do you want?" You asked, not a hint of fear or worry in your body.

"I'm intrigued. You don't seem scared, and my cursed technique doesn't work on you. Let's be friends."

You narrow your eyes in disgust, grimacing as you look the curse in the eye.

"Friends?" You say, as if the word is better on your tongue, shaking your head as you weigh your options. You feel his grip on your wrist tighten, the soft 'crack' of your wrist startling you.

"Sure, whatever." You agree, hoping he'd let go of your hand. You sigh in relief when he does, turning around and pulling up your sleeve ever so slightly. You pause as you watch the crack repair itself.

"Is that your cursed technique?"

You hear a voice next to your ear, the feeling of warm breath of your neck making you jolt.

"Don't do that." You say, looking around and realising several people were looking at you. You sighed, shaking your head as you began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Don't talk to me. People will think I'm insane."

You ignored him until you got to your house, attempting to close the door only for him to invite himself in.

You kept the lights off, putting the plastic bag on the table before sitting on the couch.

"Is this your house? Do you live alone?"

"Stop asking such creepy questions." You said, grabbing your ice cream out of your bag. It was peach flavoured and covered in white chocolate, your favourite.

You lifted the ice cream to your lips, about to take a bite when you noticed him staring at you intently. You beckoned him closer, not even looking at him as you shoved it into his mouth.

You then turned to him expectantly, hand still holding the stick. "It's good, right?"

The curse smiled, nodding. He was beginning to figure you out, little by little. Your unpredictability was your best quality to him, though.

You took the ice cream out of his mouth, shrugging as you took a bite.

"That was an indirect kiss." The curse's exclaimed loudly.

"What?" Your brows furrowed.

"I read about it in a book! You just indirectly kissed me." He giggled like a school girl. You were seriously considering punching him.

"My first indirect kiss." He sighed almost wistfully, looking at you to take in your reaction. You rolled your eyes, staring at the ceiling as you ate the ice cream, ignoring his incessant talking once again.

He grabbed your hand, now sitting on the couch next to you as he leaned toward you.

"Don't ignore me." Although his tone was playful, his eyes were sharp, you sighed, finally looking at him.

"You're kind of, what is the words human use? Pretty, you know." He began, staring at you intently. He let go of your hand, brushing your hair out of your face. He didn't know why, but he was willing to do anything to get a rise out of you.

Mahito leaned closer to your, smirking as you flinched back, eyes widening ever so slightly. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Humans are so intriguing. I've decided. You'll be my little guinea pig-"

"I don't like guinea pigs."

"My test rabbit then. You looked just like one just now. You're gonna teach me everything there is to know about humans."

You paused, looking at him in confusion. It was then that something in you clicked.

You couldn't remember the last time you were so off guard, so calm, you weren't even this relaxed around Gojo - Sensei. Yet here you were, with a dangerous curse in the house your parents were killed in. And weirdly enough, you didn't mind his company.

"Yeah, sure."

"Really?" Mahito smiled, eyes lighting up as he grabbed your hand once again.

"Yeah, yeah." You said nonchalantly. You were confused, however, when Mahito didn't let go of your hand, instead raising it. You expected him to take another bite, turning back to stare at the ceiling.

Your froze, heart dropping when you felt something wet and warm against your hand, eyes going wide as you turned rigidly to look at Mahito.

You watched, completely shocked as he licked a trail of melted ice cream off your hand.

"That tastes good." He grinned, waiting for your reaction.

You raised your hand, disgust evident on your face as you karate chopped the top of his head.

"Don't do that, that's so gross!"

You ended up spending the next few hours with Mahito, talking about everything and nothing until it grew to the early morning, and you both had to leave. Unbeknownst to you, however, Mahito watched you, a wide grin on his face.

"She'd be a perfect fit." He commented, turning to the dark-haired man that had appeared beside him.

"It shouldn't take much convincing for her to join us. Next time, we'll visit her together."

#houseki no kuni #jjk angst #jjk x hnk crossover #land of the lustrous #phos!reader #catharsis #hnk x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #platonic mahito #mahito x reader #mahito #mahito fluff

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idv-sunsxin3 · 21 days

Note

can i request a scenario where a handful of the suitcase gang accidentally consumed sotheby's potion (idk how, they just did lmao) and so turning into their udimos for a day.

w/ diggers, pavia, and horropedia pls. WHEEZE just them tryna grab your attention and you trying to decipher what they want or need 🤣

Pavia, Horropedia, Diggers // Turning into their Udimo

Note// 100% fluff. And not pun intended/ih

____

"Y/N!!!" A distressed, familiar voice of a lady yells as you were minding your own business on whatever you were doing(hot mc stuff ig/lh)

"Ms. Sotheby??? What's the matter?" You were nearly startled by her scream that followed after. Asking with a concerned look as you turned to face her - only to see her holding something that is trying to get out of her grip -

"Ms. Y/N!! Please help!!!" Sotheby cries as she raises this creature towards your face as you automatically flinch back in fear of colliding faces with the small one.

"Wait a minute, is that udimo my partner uses on the suitcase---" You were about to point out something once analyzing until you were cut off.

"I know, I know!!! I miscalculated;;; I was working on a potion and and- I accidentally dropped it on the suicase-- and now he is turned into this!!! It'll worn off in one day, i promise- E-EEP!!"

The young lady whines before squeaking when the creature succeeds in escaping from her grip and jumps on you. Making you quickly try to catch it.

"Wow, there!" You say, caught off-guard until you got licked on the tip of your mouth by the udimo, "H-Hey!! That tickles...-!" You say as you try to muffle your giggles while trying to get the udimo to stop licking or poking your face.

Quietly watching you get along with the udimo, it suddenly gave a lightbulb to the little lady with the big hat.

"How about you take care of him as he seems to prefer your company than mine?" Sotheby offers, "I got an earful from Ms. Sonetto on Ms. Timekeeper's behalf, so I have to clean up the suitcase anyway -" She twiddles her thumbs with a nervous cheeky smile.

"Oh, sure." You sweat as you feel unease yet sparkled by the idea, not sure how to take care of someone who is in their udimo form. But it is just one day, right? Plus, your pretty boy looks so cute in this form that you can't help but nuzzle your face on him--!!!

He licks you again...

Huh. We have to work on that;;;

____

//Pavia//

Pavia is not pleased... not even a single bit when he becomes aware of his condition.

Barks in 'M*RDE!!!'

He is already making some plans on to talk to Sotheby after that--(uh oh).

But on the brighter side--- he finally can talk to his children in their language. Now he has to run with them and other kinds of wolf pack stuff like he wished to do before when he was like... a man/lh

He was growling and barking like some edgy pup the entire time he was woth Sotheby. Who was so terrified the entire time she had to put him into a cage(hahaha) with the help of some people before coming to you.

The moment he found you, he got even more insane by barking louder. As if telling 'Y/N!!! Y/N!!! HERE!! GET ME OUT OF THIS TINY JAIL!!' until he realized it just kept scaring you away, becoming harder to ask for help.

So he ended up trying to apologize by making whimpering noises as his ears went droopy while now dropping on the floor as if trying to chill with his small angry tears - huh??? Is that really Pavia???

You eventually help im release him before Sotheby can protest - that he's now nudging his nose on to your knee as if silently asking for attention. Whimpering more with his eyes now sparkling at you.

"Aww... easy there."

He rubs his face on your leg now as you rub his ears. His tail washing and calming down...

Well, until he starts barking and trying to chase Sotheby to bite her if only she didn't immediately dash away - aiyayai....

Once you feel less intimidated by him, now he tries to tell you he wants gelato just by dragging you by the shirt and pawing a picture of it with his claws.

REALLY, BOY...? THAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU WANNA DO??

I guess he really wants to chill down with something cool, huh--

But then you quickly remember that the dessert won't be wolf friendly--- so you gently nag him that you can'tgive it to him---

Pavia licks your hand before licking you.

"Hey- You should stop doing that or else I'm going to be drenched with your saliva;" You whine as you try to clean your cheek. He doesn't listen and starts licking and softly biting on your arm, too, as if teasing, "Stoooopp--!"

It will be a long day...---

The next day, when he finally comes back to normal, that's when things are really getting crazy again.

You were sleeping with him, so the moment you were starting to slowly wake up from your slumber, you swear you feel strong arms around your body as if clinging on you---

You quickly wake up to notice the familiar tattoos on the knuckles of the hands--- identifying them as your boyfriend's.

But the thing is, you didn't expect to find him naked on the bed beside you.

"AH-" You were about to fall off the bed the moment you wake up and see him - LIKE WHO WOULDN'T JFHDNRNR???

It didn't take a second to catch you before pulling you close to his bare chest. Cuddling against you.

"...Buongiorno." He says with a smug look. Before licking your nose.

"Hey!!!"

"Heh."

___

//Horropedia//

Tilts head in doggo.

He really didn't have this on this year's bingo list. Okay/lh

The sad part is that he can not even be capable of yapping about stuff to you!!! How cruel;;; (it still doesn't spare the fact he woofs a lot as if he's talking)

But well, he was actually calm and rational enough to just follow Sotheby so she can help him find you--- the moment where he spots you is when he gets off of her grips and paws on your shirt. Wagging his tail so quickly.

Starts yapping and barking nonstop at you. Your poor self is having calculations on your mind about wth is he saying--- 'Y/N, omg, can you believe this??? I'm a dog, a dog!!! This is bad, so bad!!!' Bark bark bark bark ba-

Of course, he is aware that the potion will be worn off eventually. He just wanted to scare you by thinking he is panicking= meaning it's actually bad. Since it's rare for him to panic like that.

But spoilers= it's not really bad, lol.

It gets him desperate to want you to know what he wants, not just your attention, that he keeps pawing you gently to your forehead as if bonking you

'Noooo wrong, that's not what I meant..!' Puppy whimpering as he says that internally;;;

So far other than the noises and how talkative he usually is, it really honestly didn't make much of a difference when he is yapping at you in dog(like he gives dog energy when he is goofing or looking happy--)

But yeah, he always paws your leg whenever asking you to reach something for him many times--- like a horror novel from the top shelf, magazines, whatever that can keep him entertain without reminding himself of the predicament until it's over---

You ended up giving him a lot of books on his bed and dog friendly snacks so he can just sit there and flip the pages by himself with his nose---- smart doggo...

Now the way he is getting pampered by being helped in reaching stuff is pretty nice. Even he has a day off from work to binge on his hobby with you now!!! What a paradise.

Once he turns back to normal- he'll be shocked.

Like the moment he starts to wake up from hus sleep, he has a blurred vision of his hands caressing your neck as your back was facing him - wait, HANDS???

He takes a look at his hands as if it is a dream. He pinches himself - ouch, not a dream for sure... Then, he notices something..

Why does he feel chilly.

He slowly looked under the sheets -

He is naked, yep.

He was about to say "yikes-" but remembers you're still sleeping. Keeping that in mind, he tries to sneak away from the bed to go get some clothes -

Until your hands started palming to where he is, pulling him closer to you once they found him.

Now he is a statue. A sweating, flustered, naked statue.

Sigh... those typical aftermath scenes of a person turning back to humans from animals but ends up being naked - how typical indeed. He's gotta wake you up on this one now, huh.

Hey, he doesn't have much fear about waking you up- but accidentally flashing you with his naked slim body in the process is a different story!!!!

"Eh... eh... oh... Babe...?" He whispers as he tries to poke your sides.

... Now, this is a true horror scene in his mind.

____

//Diggers//

He really thought it was juice.

But no, it wasn't;;; 😭

He was calm enough to stay in Sotheby's arms until he decided to hop into yours--- staring intensively at you with those big eyes that seem like they're about to cry;;;

'Baby, help me,,,," 😭🥺 He pleads, but ends up sounding like he is croaking softly. Crap...

Now he's going to be a frog inside a bubble for one day - how is he going to eat now when he's hungry???

He was about to make more worried frog noises as he had to come to the conclusion he had to meditate throughout hunger;;; until you just simply popped his big bubble with a finger.

...Oh.-

The Frog now hops into your arms now, croaking almost as if it’s purring in 'thank you'.

Awww...

So far, Diggers has been a pretty peaceful frog vibing on the palm of your hands.

Well, he may also go silly and start jumping and hopping everywhere at his van - all carefree and adventurous. He would try and watch how high he is when trying to move around outdoors.

Despite him being on your palms once in a while because his skin needs to breath sometimes, he doesn't demand much from you as he always seems to take liking of stating at you work--- except that he has these big doe eyes of a tiny frog now.

I can imagine that he sometimes floats when he summons the huge bubble back to engulf him--

he would be struggling to control how to float towards you at first, but the more willing he wants to stay close to you, the better he was at it;;;

It didn't help when you told him you were just going to be off for 2 minutes for a drink, and he's already trying to follow you by blowing bubbles with his own mouth😭

His doe eyes only close for a long time whenever you gently rub his tiny head;;;;

Once he goes back to normal, he is surprised when seeing his state---- happy surprise.

He wasn't fazed by the fact that he's naked. It's so funny.

Now he sobs happily as he can finally be a man once again---!!! Freedom!!!

He giggles happily before planting kisses on your forehead once seeing you wake up and blushing from seeing him shirtless.

"Darling, I'm finally back,,,"

(also mopping on a corner.... Thinking he has been acting so chaotic around you, he couldn't forgive himself and that he won't get head rubs from you fhdhdbdb)

Oh, how much he underestimated you - you still give him headrubs!!! (He luvs them so much, my god;;)

#r1999 horropedia #r1999 x reader #r1999 pavia #r1999 diggers #r1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse: 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 #diggers x reader #reverse 1999 diggers #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x reader #reverse 1999 horropedia #horropedia x reader #horropedia

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slamminslamminmcgill · 11 months

Note

broooo what if... mike taking you and jesse out on a run and jesse fingerfucking u in the backseat thinking mike is oblivious until he pulls over and rails both of u in the middle of the desert

me going insane trying not to title this “kid named finger” 💀

anatomical terms: (t-)dick

“Are we-“

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I didn’t need to.”

Jesse slumped back in his seat and groaned in frustration. The two of you had been in the back of Mike’s car doing god knows what, heading god knows where, for god knows how long. He hadn’t told either of you shit. As far as you both knew, you were just there to keep him company. That didn’t make much sense, though, unless his idea of good road trip buddies were two brats constantly asking “Are we there yet?” and “Can we get McDonald’s?”

You leaned into Jesse and rested your head against his shoulder. At the very least, the backseat was a good spot to cuddle. The tight space, comfortable upholstery, and just barely adequate air conditioning made it the perfect location to get nasty. Or at least, it would be without your babysitter behind the wheel.

That didn’t seem to bother Jesse, though.

He wrapped his arm around you and shifted his body weight to lean against you. He used his newfound leverage to dot your neck with soft kisses. His slender fingers dragged down your body until they reached the drawstrings of your shorts. From there, he started to pull at them.

You gasped, your voice anxious, breathy, and soft, “Jess, what are you-?”

A tattooed hand clamped your mouth shut, and its owner whispered in your ear. “Be quiet, yo. He’s gonna hear you.”

You got the message, even though you couldn't believe what it was trying to say, let alone do. Regardless, you let him work.

Jesse slipped his somehow cold and clammy hand past the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, until he found what he was looking for. Sure enough, your t-dick was already standing at attention. That made him smirk, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke, "Heh... Someone's excited..."

He was right. The confined space, the thrill of getting caught, Jesse himself, it was all very exciting. He took your dick between his fingers and jerked you, making sure his other hand was soundproofing your lips. He could only do so much, though. He couldn't stop the rapid breaths escaping through your nose. Oh, well. Maybe the old man's hearing wasn't what it used to be. Knowing how sensitive you were, this was probably the quietest you could be.

But it wasn't enough.

Mike rolled his eyes and pulled the car off the road, weaving in between bushes as he found a place to stop. You two hadn't even noticed he'd changed course, that is, until he turned over his shoulder and said,

“Do you two think I’m stupid?”

The two of you jumped, and Jesse ripped his hand off your mouth, trying his best to act natural. "What..? Wh... What do you mean, man?"

Mike was not in the mood for bullshit. "What I mean is you still have your hand down his pants. Now, since you two think I'm dumb enough to not know what's going on back there, perhaps you'd like to explain yourselves."

You both stared at him absolutely dumbfounded, mouths agape, stuttering and stammering as you tried to craft a convincing excuse.

"Well, uh... I was just, uh..."

"Jesse, uh... He was, well..."

Teamwork. An absolutely impenetrable defense.

Mike killed the ignition and opened his door before barking orders at you. "Out of the car. Both of you."

You and Jesse gulped, exchanging a look of guilt and terror. "Welp. It was nice knowing you," seemed to be the thought on both of your minds as you nodded to each other and scooted over to your respective sides. When you exited the vehicle, Mike was standing at the front of the car facing you both, the captain of the ship about to make his two dumbest crewmates walk the plank. That was the nice way of putting it. In reality, he was probably just going to shoot you both in the head and leave your bodies for the vultures. Jesse walked over to you and took your hand in his, waiting for the shot, but instead of a bullet, he fired another command.

"Bend over the hood. Now."

Now, the look you shared with each other was one of confusion. You were honestly just surprised you weren't facing the death penalty for risking cum stains on the leather interior. Neither of you got to say anything before Mike did.

"I'm not gonna ask you again."

You held hands and trudged around to where he was standing, arms folded over his chest, waiting for you to surrender yourselves to him. You and Jesse bent over the hood, your fingers intertwined, and stared at the windshield while Mike prepared to do whatever the hell he was planning.

Mike crept up behind Jesse and tugged his shorts down below his ass. Then, he went behind you and did the same. He spoke with terrifying indifference, "If you brats needed attention so bad, you could've just asked."

He didn't even give you a second to parse the meaning of that before a firm palm came down on your ass. Then Jesse's. Then yours again. In between yelps and moans, Jesse squeezed your hand to get your attention. You turned your face to meet his. He winked at you and muttered under his breath,

"You're welcome, yo."

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lizzydizzyyo · 20 days

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I think what's really compelling about House's absolute unwillingness to bow down to anything or anyone (the ethical board, the law, extra rich CEO, vindictive police officer, and even the patients themselves) regardless of how absolutely batshit and downright illegal his actions are, is because it's coming from a chronically disabled person, in more ways than one.

He cannot walk without agony or his cane. His chronic and severe pain led him down the path of deep Vicodin addiction until he also becomes psychologically dependent on it too (once, Dr Cuddy gives him saline placebo and it "works", in that he is not feeling his leg pain anymore for a few hours).

He understands it deeply just how desperate people can be when they're in pain and nobody can (or are willing to) help them—at least, so far, until they land on his doorstep. Which is canonically the most extreme step patients take when everything else fails—you don't just go straight to Plainsborough Teaching Hospital and to Dr Gregory House MD's office; you have to go through dozens of other doctors in various specialties and failed treatments too.

(Although that's a separate discussion about how doctors, particularly resident ones, are overworked and underpaid and redtaped by shithead insurance companies even if they do know how to treat a patient and want to).

He knows, from the bottom of his heart, that having such a painful and life-limitting debilitating condition is comparable to hell on earth, because he has one. He knows, that despite his disability being visible to everyone, yet no one wants to put an effort to help him deal with it—is also hell on earth.

Cuddy simply throws money at him and turns the other way to his Vicodin abuse, like she is saying, "I don't care if he takes 10 Vicodin pills a day or more, and I have to pay at least $1M every year for lawsuits, as long as he gets the job done," (and when they decide to go into relationship, she immediately drops him when he relapses, even if the reason for his relapse is her—although, yes, there is another discussion to be had about keeping yourself and your child(ren) safe being a priority compared to helping an addict, recovering or not). Wilson, as loyal as he is to House, simply either enables him or lectures him without going into the root of the issue and thoroughly help House that way. His subordinates, especially after the original trio, are simply too scared, too ignorant, or too ambitious to even approach the issue and choose to keep their job than help House (also another discussion to be had about how you can't help people who don't want to help themselves and so on).

So when he sees a patient who has gone through hell trying to get a correct diagnosis and treatment, he becomes laser-focused on doing everything under the sun to get to the bottom of it and cure the patient. He doesn't care if he has to break into countless of houses (haha pun) and collect insane and probably biohazard samples to do it—he absolutely will, no question.

Yes, hate-criming and being a bigot is his favorite hobby (still livid at the asexual ep and the production's choice for the resolution, let's just say I still have beef with Hugh Laurie and the entire production team for it), and so is insulting patients in so many ways that Shakespeare would personally fly to New Jersey and shake his hands if someone manage to successfully perform necromancy on ol' Billy boy. But House is no one if not dedicated. "Yes, my patient is an idiot, everyone is an idiot too, but I WILL cure their condition like my life depends on it," is basically his middle name.

Besides, you can make the argument that he is more compassionate than all the other doctors around him, because despite his absolute disdain towards some of his patients' beliefs and stupidity, he still works his ass off to treat them. He will call your god an idiot in 7 different languages while putting you in a diagnostic machine he manipulated the whole hospital into letting him use so that you could get a test which weren't available to you before. He will tell you that your currently-happy marriage will end in a bloody divorce and your ex will leave you penniless so love is not real while injecting you with a medication he had to hack the CDC's database for.

There are even episodes that show him being truly earnest, like the clinic duty scene where he is snarky as usual to a girl who seemingly stupidly had unprotected sex until she lashes out, and House is like, "Oh shit, this is above my paygrade", and immediately goes to Cuddy with a very serious expression and no sarcastic dilly-daliying, demanding her to transfer the patient to someone else because he is not good with "curing" rape case (interesting choice on the writers' part to make the patient insist to have therapy with House, though).

There is an episode about a very workaholic woman executive in a fashion company who has tremor and partial paralysis, and later on it's shown that she seems to tie her worth as a person to her corporate success while band-aiding her deep psychological issue like her suicidal ideation, and House genuinely asks her, "Do you want to live? I cannot help you unless you want me to," or something along the line.

There is also the cursed 9-year-old terminal brain cancer episode where Chase kissed the patient (ew), where at first it shows House being a usual misanthophe to Wilson and saying, "She is not brave, it's the brain tumor clot talking because it must be near the amygdala." Later in the episode, House sits near the patient alone, and compassionately asks her if she even wants to live, going through the rest of her short-lived but horrible agony, even if they catch the clot. The surgery to find and get rid of the clot is risky and can debilitate her even more, and this is why House is laying the decision to her hands. That she gets to choose. This is what truly reveals to him that she is genuinely brave (aside from the scan showing the clot to be so far away from her amygdala), but for the wrong reason. She is brave for her mom, willing to go through horrible surgery and drag out her already painful cancer-ridden life because, "My mom needs me". When everyone is congratulating her in the end, you can tell House has a bittersweet expression of both awe towards her bravery, and sadness that this 9-year-old sick girl has to bear the brunt of her horrible pain just so that her mother is not sad. That he couldn't convince her to be a child until the nearing end of her life.

The most interesting evidence of his compassion to me is the gunman hostage episode. It might sound weird because in the whole episode, he is depicted to first want to outsmart the gunman patient, then becomes laser-focused but only because he sees it as a puzzle, then absolutely selfish and dangerous because he volunteers himself as the last hostage and gives the gun back to the guy after the MRI. I do think it's true that his dedication to solving patients-are-just-puzzle-to-me conditions shines through in the episode, especially the scene of him returning his gun, but there is something else I catch when I rewatched it before.

When the gunman patient is put in the MRI because Cameron tells him a theory through the hostage call, the remaining doctors in the room including House are wary at the gunman but also hopeful. Yet, when the result shows up on the screen, he realizes that the theory is wrong and the guy let go his only bargaining chip for nothing. If you watch this part carefully, you'll notice that House actually looks pitying and sad at the gunman's disappointed demeanor and expression. He realizes he is going to be another notch in the guy's failed doctors list, and at this point (with the gun given away and even the best, most talented doctor also not finding out what's wrong with him), the guy has given up hope that he will ever see the day he will be cured, certainly not behind the bars.

Yes, his thirst for puzzle is House's big driving force in giving back the gun, but you'll be lying to yourself if you don't notice House's compassion for the guy because he doesn't want the guy to go out empty-handed, with absolutely no more hope because House knows once they step out of the door, this guy will never, ever be allowed to be in the vicinity of any hospital or doctor ever again in his life, aside from jail's bare-minimum exams and medications. House can't handle the thought of putting someone else through his own disappointment—that nothing works to help his leg pain. He especially doesn't want to be the cause for this gunman guy's case either. Even in the end when House realizes the guy is a fucking moron because he doesn't know that Florida is, in fact, in earthwide-horizontal tropical zone and this is what stumps most of the guy's previous doctors—House still gives him a subtle salute to the guy while being handcuffed and led away, almost to say, "Enjoy your healing and the defeat of your arch nemesis The Sickness™, glad to be part of it."

Majority of his drive to stop at nothing until his patient is cured is definitely thanks to his own fucked-up leg, even if there are some dialogues with Cuddy and Stacy Warner (House's ex wife) that seem to imply he has always been a misanthrophe whose hobby is getting into malpractice (or general) lawsuits. I wholeheartedly believe that after his leg clot rendered him disabled and with chronic pain, he became much more dedicated and obsessed with getting to the bottom of a patient's medical information, even for info that seems innocuous or irrelevant that always turn out to be important (probably more like a plot armor than established characterization, to be honest), almost like this is his method of relating to the patients in his own weirdly human way, and maybe a little bit (actually, a lot) of projecting.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#house md #rec #media analysis #writing #english #me #i hv more to say abt this show like him making the mistake of not amputating his leg bc of his bias against (particularly visible)disabilit #even tho cuddy and his other past ortho surgeons suggest against keeping the leg because the clot is really bad and unsalvagable #years later even while having his leg it's now useless because all it gives him is pain and anger issue with a dash of opioid addiction #so when he sees patient being stupid or refusing a certain test/treatment he KNOWS in the bottom of his heart to be right #he just won't take it lying down & he will drag his patients kicking & screaming bc ''trust me i was an idiot too don't repeat my mistake''#but that's an essay for another day #whump #whump meta #disability

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octopiys · 7 months

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A lil bit of a started story based off of a comic by: @aidenlydia thank u for letting me write about it just in time for spooky season!!

every dream that shatters (another one comes true)

He had to get out. He had to clear his head. His shoebox of a house was too cluttered, too stuffed, and he couldn't breathe in there. Too many eyes watched him, too many eyes worried and never said a thing.

He had to go for a ride.

The bike was right under the tarp where he had left it, settled under half an inch of dust. He wasn't even really sure if his mum knew he had it.

He knew she wouldn't say anything, even if she did know. Her eyes only watched.

A gift to himself when he enlisted, the bike was just as beautiful as he'd first bought it.

Built in 2000, the gloss on his Harley Softail was just as polished, like a mirror. He smudged his hand on the black, before pulling on his gloves. The twin engine was still in perfect condition, after all, the bike was only a few years old. When he got back from Mexico, he buried himself in upgrading the bike. A radio modification or two, a compartment in the front, hiding a few secret things, a few close objects to him. Dog tags, a photo of the rest of his team, a letter that he wouldn't bother to rewrite until he got back home... He hitched up the wheels, buffed them out just a little bigger. They were more stable, and he couldn't help but puff up at the thought of how nice they fit the bike. He had to clean off the leather of the seat as he tugged it out of the shed in the backyard.

If his mother didn't know he had it before, she surely did now.

He needed to drive.

The radio station switched on, the gauges twitching as he kicked the bike on. Some rock band was playing. One of the newer ones he liked. Linkin Park. The engine revved, purred, and he felt slightly soothed. The sound scraped against his ears, grinding away the thoughts that berated him.

It felt like flying, strangely, and he'd been in his fair share of helicopters. The service granted him that much, at least.

He had decided not to bring his helmet, the one that was emblazoned with a bones of a skull. It would be a short trip. Just to clear his mind.

The house was deadly silent behind him, but for once he'd swear he'd never felt more alive.

Captain John MacTavish, or as his friends liked to call him, Soap, was going to go insane. His current mission had been completed, and since he was technically considered part of a private military company, all he had to do was wait for the next one.

The issue at hand, however, is that there wouldn't be another one for months, and he was tired of routine.

Strange, saying that as a Captain. Sure, he'd built himself a title through routine, and sure, he'd earned himself one by breaking it. He'd tell his team to take a break, but that didn't necessarily mean he himself would follow through with that.

But it was autumn, and apparently terrorists wanted to carve pumpkins or something like that because there was no threat on their radars, and it pissed him off.

He needed something to do. Something to get his hands working with, something to get his pent up aggression out. Drawing wasn't working as well as he'd wanted it to, and now he had filled journals of dead teammates that he'd drawn up in their honor. He'd probably burn them later, like a sacrificial pyre in memoriam.

There was a soft thud at his front door and his head shot up in reflex, shoulders hunched, prepared for a fight. But there was no knock, no sudden burst of entry. His hand had twitched for a gun that he didn't currently hold.

Creeping up to the front door, Soap checked through the peephole in the center of the wood. No one was there, much to his relief. Just the morning mail.

After he opened the door and seized the paper for himself, he saw the mailboy ride past on his bike with an armful of other newspapers to deliver.

Soap deemed it safe to take into his home.

He was so utterly bored, he thought he'd might explode. At least that would bring some kind of interest into his life.

His mother prayed that he'd find someone of interest before she died, and believe him, she wanted to die knowing that her son wouldn't be alone. That he had somebody to come home to.

The Captain, however, never found much interest in women. Or men, for that matter. Not that he didn't find them attractive! In fact, Sergeant Garrick often teased him for the way he'd be caught gazing at a bartender at a pub after a mission, or a nurse who'd had the misfortune of being assigned to their task force during a particularly nasty mission. But his field of work never allowed much time for a relationship anyways. Too much time apart, too much risk, and not nearly enough risque.

Most of the time, it'd be a quick fuck, and he'd be off on his way.

But this wasn't that kind of frustration, it was something else. Understimulation, if you will.

He was four pages through the paper before it occurred to him that he hadn't actually read anything since he opened it up. So he zoned back in, and started from the beginning.

Most of it was a few standard ads, some news articles, a morning prayer that he mumbled aloud. But something had caught his eye. An opportunity.

In basic print, on basic background, was a local advertisement from some old woman selling a wrecked out motorcycle. She stated that the condition was very poor, and it would require a lot of work to get it fixed up. However, she left a line to call beneath the brief description.

Before he knew it, he was dialing the digits into his phone.

It rang thrice before it got picked up.

"Hello...? This is Sara." The voice of an older woman answered, and from the way she spoke it didn't seem like she was expecting a call.

"Hi there, ma'am. My name is John, ah was callin' aboot yer ad in the paper?" He winced internally, having not prepared a proper greeting.

"Oh!" Was all he heard. There was some shuffling on the other end of the line. "Yes, I- yes, of course.... I'd assume you'd want to check it out before you buy-?" She seemed hesitant. Almost sad, even.

"If yer offerin', ma'am, I'd love ta." He straightened on his worn out couch, reaching to the nearby side table to grab a pen and the pad of paper.

She told him the address, and he wrote it down. It would be a decent drive, but the morning was nigh. He'd be able to get there and back by nightfall easily, even if it would take much more time to get there than to actually assess the bike.

He hated driving in Britain. He hated it. The traffic was horrible, why didn't he ever account for-

"Oh God dammit pick a fuckin' lane ye wee bastard!" He shouted at the car in front of him that could not hear, due to the fact that the windows of his truck were rolled up, and the car was in fact, just a car.

He was only ten minutes out, but traffic in Manchester was just not pleasing him at the current moment.

But soon enough he was driving down a free road to a residential area of more run down houses. He wasn't one to judge, having come from a place similar, but the GPS stopped him in front of a light blue house. The garage door was open, and a few shingles were missing from the roof. There were a few children's toys in the front yard, the weeds overcrowding the driveway.

Soap pocketed his wallet and locked his car as he approached the front door. There were a few flower boxes, and the paint was peeling. The flowerbeds held a few dying sweet pea plants.

He wasn't sure how he recognized the plant. Symbolism of some sort he was sure.

He knocked quietly on the door and waited patiently, pushing strands of his overgrown mohawk out of his face.

There was a bit of a scuffle behind the door before it opened, revealing an older woman with graying blond hair and soft wrinkles around her eyes. She was older like he'd thought, probably around the same age as his own mother, and she had the same kindness in her eyes that he missed.

"Are you John?" She asked, her hands finding purchase on the door.

"Aye, but ye can call me Soap if ya'd like." It was a force of habit, introducing himself. Everybody knew him as Soap. Wasn't that big of a deal.

The woman pursed her lips, but opened the door. "I'd let ya around the side o' the house, but my son's mowin' the lawn now. It's in the back shed, hon, follow me." She said, deciding that he was well enough on his word to come into the house.

The walls of the interior were light purple, and in the corner of the living room sat an old box television, smothered by two couches. There was a baby play pen near the kitchen, and some music that played somewhere deeper in the house. He could see the shed through the back windows, overgrown with ivy, and there was a pang of sadness in his heart that he could not place.

"My son was a lieutenant." The woman said suddenly, as they crossed through the living area. Soap hummed in response.

"What force?" He asked, not bothering to question how she knew. He chose to slightly overlook the use of past tense.

"S.A.S. His father hated it." She breathed a laugh to herself as she opened up the back door. "But he wasn't in it for the Queen. He wanted to help people, truly."

"Aye, ma'am, most of us aren't fans of the Queen." He scoffed, and the woman looked back at him with a soft twinkle in her eye, like she knew more than he did.

They were quiet as they walked out to the back shed. He heard the mower going as it turned around the backyard, before it appeared. A young boy was operating it, with shoulder length blond hair, and he paused, staring at them for a moment, before pushing the mower back towards the front of the house.

The woman had unlocked the shed, but she didn't open the doors just yet. She glanced at him, looking almost hesitant. "Its.... It's really just scrap metal, hon. It'll be a lotta work to fix up, if that's what you're lookin' for. He made a few modifications to it, but- well...." She pushed open the door, and he smiled at her, trying to mask the realization that this bike *was* her son's.

"Don't worry ma'am, I like a good challenge." Soap murmured, glancing in as she opened the door.

The shed was lined with shelves, most of them holding gardening tools or the like. Near the back corners was, well, what he figured she'd be talking about. He could see the scratched polish glinting in the soft sunlight that caught the dust mites. The front wheel had been completely torn off, the bike bent almost in half around the leather seat. A few wires hung loose, and the radio modification was shattered almost completely across. Whatever had happened to it, and it's owner, must've been a grizzly scene. He didn't want to think the two were interrelated.

"I'll take it." He said in a hushed voice, before clearing his throat. "Uh- I'll take it, ma'am. I'll fix it right up." Soap promised, and he knew he would.

"I'll have my boy help it out to the car." She responded, and turned away.

He ended up getting the bike for very cheap. Her other son, Thomas, had done well on her word, having gotten out a transport tarp and helped him drag it out to his truck. He looked much like the boy he saw earlier, the one who was mowing the lawn. Must've been his father.

"Mum says you're in the military." Thomas huffed. "Not a Queen's bitch, though."

"Nae, I kill terrorists." Soap said, tipping his head.

"You make good on that?"

"I do."

"You'll like the bike. It was practically new when 'e got it. I was the only one he told 'bout it." Thomas puffed slightly at the memory. "A 2000 Harley Softail... God, she was a beaut. I helped 'im put in the radio too."

Soap smiled, but it might've looked more like a grimace. He couldn't lie and say he didn't feel bad.

He handed Thomas the money, and thanked him. Thomas wished him luck.

Before he got into his truck, Ms. Sara hurried out with something in her hands. It was a black and white helmet. Even if the paint was fading, he could still see the slight tracing of the skull-and-crossbones patterning. It looked edgy. Soap thought it was cool.

"If... If you do get the bike fixed up, use the helmet for me, son. It'll be the best decision you make, y' best believe." She said thickly, setting it in the bed of his truck alongside the twisted metal.

His throat felt tight as he smiled at her once again. "Thank ye." He said sincerely, and he found himself strangely choked up. He didn't know these people, but yet there was something so familiar about them.

Thomas stood next to his mother, almost towering over her.

"Good luck." He said stiffly, and Soap thanked him quietly once again.

The family turned into the house, and he hopped into his truck. The door slammed loudly behind him, and he swore, just another thing he had to fix.

As Soap drove off, what was left of the bike rattled securely in the bed of his truck.

Behind closed doors, a tear slipped down Ms. Riley's face. She pressed her forehead to the cold wood as the Captain drove away and whispered,

"Goodbye, Simon."

#call of duty #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #incorrect quotes #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #kyle 'gaz' garrick #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #modern warfare 3

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