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#I’ve been happy I been playing games again lately
janeyseymour · 2 days
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Mamma Mia
a song fic based on the song Mamma Mia by ABBA with my own version of the song attached :)
WC: ~1.45k
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I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when. So I made up my mind, it must come to end.
Melissa Schemmenti has been in your life for quite some time. And now looking back on everything, she’s been cheating you out of a lot of things. So, you’ve made up your mind: you have to cut her off.
“Mel, I just can’t do this anymore!” you tell her, tears in your eyes.
“What do you mean you can’t do it anymore! You’ve cheated me out of so much, and it’s been going on since… since I don’t know when. So, I made up my mind… we have to split.”
“You always say that,” she rolls her eyes.
“But… I mean it this time,” you whisper. “Please leave.”
Look at me now, will I ever learn? I don’t know how, but I suddenly lose control. There’s a fire within my soul.
It’s been a few weeks now, and you’re just… brokenhearted. You miss everything about her. Yes, she’s hurt you in the past, but nothing matters when she makes you happy. 
After a few drinks, the liquid courage takes over, and you lose control. You have to text her. There’s just a fire within your soul that is begging you to go back to the fiery redhead that haunts your dreams. She answers, telling you to be over at her place as soon as you can. She sends you a picture of herself, a glass of wine in hand as she waits for you.
Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything.
You glance at the picture, and the alarms are going off in your head about how this is a bad idea- how you shouldn’t go back to her. Not after everything she’s put you through and after everything that you’ve been denied of because of her.
But then you look at the picture again, and… all of those thoughts go out the window. You slip on your shoes and start your walk. You’re not sober enough to drive. 
Mamma mia, here I go again. My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again? My, my, just how much I’ve missed you. 
As you walk, you start to sober up, and think to yourself. Here you go again, to fall into the arms of the woman who has left you hurting so many times before. You almost turn around, but then she sends you another picture, asking where you are. You don’t know how to resist that.
When you knock on her door, she opens it almost immediately. Her lips are on yours almost instantly, and you can taste the cherry wine that she’s been drinking. You soak it in as much as you can before pulling apart.
Your eyes give you away, and you know it’s showing just how much you’ve missed her. 
You spend that night with Melissa in her bed.
Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why, did I ever let you go? Mamma mia, now I really know- my, my, I could never let you go. 
The next morning, you wake up naked in the redhead’s bed and in her arms, content. You’re no longer heartbroken and upset. You wake up feeling much better than you were the previous night when all you had done was wish she was sitting next to you. And you know you could never let go over her. Not again. You know that you’re right where you’re supposed to be. But the two of you both know that you definitely need to talk about this whole on and off game that you’ve been playing lately. It’s just not healthy.
So, you settle on her couch once she’s made breakfast and poured coffee.
I’ve been angry and sad about things that you do.
“I just… you know how I feel when you flirt with other people to get free things,” you whisper. “And I’ve told you that.”
“Y/N, I’m a teacher. I have to do what I have to do to get by, and if flirting with the idiot vending machine man is what I have to do, I’ll do it.”
“And you know how I feel when you brush off the idea of settling down and getting married.”
“And I’ve told you before that we can settle down, but I ain’t getting married again, hun,” Melissa tells you as she takes a bite of her bacon. “It’s just not in the cards for me.”
“It doesn’t matter to you that that’s not what I want?”
“I already compromised by telling you that we could move in together and all that shit-”
“See, right there. All that shit,” you bite out. “It’s not shit to me. I love you, and I don’t know why you act like our love is some bullshit. It hurts.”
“I’m sorry, hun. I’ll try to be more considerate of your feelings,” she promises as she lays a gentle hand over yours.
It’s a promise that you’ve heard before, and while you doubt she’ll keep word… one can dream.
I can’t count all the times that I’ve told you we’re through. And when you go, when you slam the door. I think you know that you won’t be away too long. You know that I’m not that strong.
You haven’t even been dating again for another week before you’re kicking her out of your place. You shout at her that this is the last time she’ll hear from you. But as she slams the door, you hear her grumble something.
“You and I both know that you’re not strong enough to stay away from me for too long.”
Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything.
You’re out at the bars with your friend when you see her walk in, red hair curled beautifully and her outfit perfectly accentuating the curves that she was gifted.
“Stop,” your best friend scolds you when she follows your gaze. “She’s the whole reason we’re out tonight in the first place- to forget about her.”
You shake your head to get out of the trance Melissa has you in. But as much as you try, she always pulls you back in. You take one more look at her, and you forget it all- you know she’ll end up at your place once your friend has decided that she’s had enough and heads home for the night. That, or you’ll end up pinned to her bed like you usually do on nights where you reconcile.
Mamma mia, here I go again. My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma Mia, does it show again? My, my, just how much I’ve missed you?
The night continues on, you and your friend dancing and singing your hearts out, until she’s decided that she’s had enough for the night. She calls an Uber, and she climbs into it as she gives you her parting words.
“I swear to God, Y/N, do not end up back in bed with Melissa tonight,” she slurs out as she closes the door.
You roll your eyes and head back into the bar. The redhead is waiting at the door for you- of course she is.
Drunk enough to not care, but sober enough to know what you’re doing, you kiss her.
“Can’t resist me?” Melissa teases.
You roll your eyes and kiss her again as you start to dance on her. “What do you think?”
“I think you missed me,” she smirks. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“I think you should buy me a drink,” you smile at her cheekily.
“As long as you come home with me tonight.”
You do. 
Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why, did I ever let you go? Mamma mia, now I really know. My, my, I could never let you go.
You wake up in her arms again, and you know that while you were supposed to be at the bar mending your broken heart last night, you made the decision to come back to her. As she’s asleep next to you, holding onto you tightly, you wonder again why you ever let her go.
And you know that for as many times as this vicious cycle of being in an on again, off again relationship will continue, you could never let her go.
You just hope that one day, the two of you get your shit together and you stay together. It probably won’t happen, but you can hope and dream. 
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the-squeege · 2 years
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A moment of softness (:
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flippedorbit · 4 months
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do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?
#“oh you and your sister never listen to me and blah blah blah” we fucking do (or at the very least i do)#“you guys never help out” does me doing the litter and taking out the trash and on occasion hand washing the dishes mean#fucking nothing to you? does me sweeping the floor every once in a while because you chose to keep us in an area that is ALL SAND/DIRT ROAD#for whatever stupid ass reason also meaningless? does me doing my damn best to help out mean fucking nothing?#do you want me to kill my self. do you want to lose your eldest child to something YOU could have fucking prevented all because you can’t#stop being a bitch to him all the time? do you really fucking want that mom? because at this rate i am once again on the road to fucking#attempting it. i’m so god damn sick of how you treat me. the only time i can do anything i want is at night. i stay up super late playing#games with my friends because its the only time in the day when you aren’t bitching and whining for me to do something you don’t want to do#for the past several days i’ve been up until five in the damn morning just to do something that makes me happy.#you misgender me. you deadname me. you refuse to accept any aspect of my identity. you don’t treat me like a god damn person.#i have so many different ways i can consider attempting if i truly wanted to. the only thing keeping me alive is my friends. because they a#least show that they fucking care and actively want to do things with me. like group drawing or playing video games.#YOU on the other hand; mother; yell and get mad at me over the stupidest shit and never fucking apologize.#i cannot recall a singular time you’ve apologized for being a complete bitch to me over something so fucking unimportant.#and yet i’m expected to be completely fucking fine and happy all because you provide me with the bare fucking minimum.#”i clothe and feed and provide a place for you to live” THAT IS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. sure you could argue over the fact i’m 18 and#should be out working somewhere. but you give me so few opportunities for going places and even considering getting a job or finally gettin#my driver’s license. plus i would rather fucking die than work any food service or customer service job. because i’d be going somewhere#where i’d mostly get talked down to or yelled and then come home and have the same shit done after working for hours and getting minimal#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any#reason. where i’d be treated just the same as at home. like someone who isn’t a person and doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to them.#i constantly so desperately wish that maybe one day soon i’d find someone to be with romantically and that i could maybe live with them and#get out of this hell hole that i’m supposed to call home. to go somewhere and have my efforts appreciated. to go somewhere where i’d#actually fucking be loved. i shouldn’t have to wish so god damn hard for a better life all because my mother can’t fucking treat me like a#person with hopes and dreams and thoughts and feelings.#i’m ending this rant here before i get too angry and upset. see you all in maybe an hour.#suicide mention#ask to tag
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galariangengar · 10 months
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💭
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dejwrld · 5 months
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CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 1
( DEMON TIME) 🎮 INCUBUS!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X READER
— game synopsis: your boyfriend has been quite neglectful when it comes to your needs. not particularly being the best book boyfriend similar to the books you've read. but the one demon that visits you in your dreams seem to give you everything you need.
( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of reader having a boyfriend, doggystyle, unprotected sex, dirty talk (simon calls reader a slut), mentions of wet dreams, pillow humping, infidelity, kinda monsterfucking, mentions of simon having horns, gaslighting, i changed the ending like 5 times omg
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough
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You planned the whole night out for you and your boyfriend—a Halloween tradition that you two always did every year. Binge-watch some Halloween movies, give out candy to children who knocked on your shared apartment door, and have wonderful sex as Jason Vorhees kills his next victim playing in the background. But tonight, you sat alone on the cream-colored sofa with a half bowl of candy (because trick-and-treaters didn’t stop coming despite your boyfriend did). You felt embarrassed, the running thought that you should have let this relationship go sooner flashing through your mind similar to a light bulb flickering on when someone has a wonderful idea. 
You were grasping onto a dead relationship and yearning for a happy ever after that wasn’t even there. You turned the television off and decided to clean up for the evening. Putting away the snacks you laid out and the pizza that grew cold as minutes went by. Pure disappointment sat at the pit of your stomach while cleaning up and eventually finding yourself in bed a little earlier than usual. You quickly did your evening routine of skincare and brushing your teeth before letting your feet guide you to your bed. The sound of late-night partygoers was heard outside and you can only tune out the squeals of excitement as you drift off into a deep slumber. 
But as your body finally fell into the comfort of getting some rest, you soon felt your body jerk up suddenly at the sound of your wooden floors creaking. You wanted to be excited that your boyfriend actually came home and maybe you could do the activities you had planned. Expecting to see him tugging off his button-down shirt and complaining about his supervisor being up his ass during the eight-hour work shift—but instead, you were met with a large figure staring at you. His burly arms crossed over his chest causing the tight black t-shirt to clench upon his upper body. You blinked a couple of times assuming you were dreaming. You even reached to your wrist to pop at the beaded bracelet your boyfriend got you at this carnival you guys went to. The beads sting your wrist after you do that action and you still don’t jolt up in a completely cold sweat.
“You’re not dreaming, love.” His deep voice erupted your thoughts that were racing with questions. “Actually, kinda in the middle. Not dreaming, but actually dreaming. Hard to explain,” He points out before tilting his head at you.
Now you wanted to scream. A large man with a black mask that had a skull imprinted on it was standing just inches away from your bed and your body shook with fear as you inched away from him but was met with your cream-colored headboard.
“It’s no need to panic, you summoned me here. Well, kinda.”  He explains. “Fuck.” He utters before clearing his throat and trying again.
“Every Halloween, some lonely single person's guilt and hurt is so strong that it summons me or one of my peers. A mere incubus that they can have for just one night,” The masked man explained, and when he saw you look at him as if he’s grown an extra pair of arms (which he could do if he put his mind to it, he was fuckin’ demon after all). “You’re actually the first person I’ve been assigned to in a while.”
“I’m so fucking confused right now.” You swing your feet over the ledge of your bed, sliding into your slippers, and walking over to the mysterious man. When you got closer, you immediately poked at his arm and were met with hardness. 
He was real. He wasn’t like some ghost and maybe you had gone crazy.
“But I’m not single…” you pointed out as you circled around his large frame to get a good look at him. If he wasn’t a ghost, he still was here, and if anything went to shit to the point that you had to call the cops—at least you had a visual of his stature. 
You couldn’t tell if his face scrunched up in a confused manner, but his eyes told the rather confused feeling he possessed. You stood in front of him crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m actually taken…” Your voice trails off and for some reason saying that left a bad taste in your mouth. 
It didn’t feel like you were taken. Especially when you went to sleep alone tonight. 
“Hm, that’s interesting. It doesn’t seem like that. So if you’re not taken…you’re hurt. Did the little boyfriend and yourself have an argument?” The stranger waltzed over to the small loveseat in your room and sat down. It was as if he was a therapist questioning you about life. 
“No.” You quickly admit. “We didn’t…he just didn’t show up tonight when I planned something for us. He hasn’t answered his phone, nothing. So, I’m just confused about what I should do because this has happened before.” 
“I see.” His voice trails off and he rubs at his clothed chin before standing up. “Let’s go have some fun, love.” The mysterious man whose eyes you were hypnotized with extended his large hand for you to take. 
“What? I’m still in my pajamas.” You pointed it out. “I need to go change, maybe fix my hair.” You motion to the silk scarf that was tied upon your head.
“Eh, don’t worry about that. I’m a fuckin’ demon. I have it all figured out.” He says. 
You met his gaze and you saw this twinkle in his light-colored eyes. It was a similar twinkle and glint that your boyfriend had when you two were in your cupcake phase during the relationship. “What’s your name? I can’t just go out with a stranger that claims he’s a demon.” 
You heard him kiss his teeth, “You’ll figure it out soon.” And with that, he grabs your hand and in a blink of a moment, you’re both in a crowded bar.
You knew exactly what bar you were at because it was one that your boyfriend frequented a lot with his friends and co-workers. You had to pick him up countless times when his alcohol intake had hit its limit. But as you stood in the middle of the bar, you noticed that no one didn’t notice you. A person walked by you and you were expecting to feel their shoulder roughly bump into you—but instead, their body went through yours as if you merely were a ghost. No one in this bar knew you two were here, which sucked considering your attire.
Your hands roamed your body as you wore a blood-red leather corset and a black leather mini-skirt that hugged your lower half perfectly. On your head was a headband that was decorated with two sparkly red devil horns. Of course, he would ensure you were dressed up as a demon. Your eyes searched in the crowd for him and you saw him behind the bar looking at the massive choice of alcohol. You walked towards the bar and watched him closely, “Why are we here?” You asked. 
“To have a good time.” The man’s fingers tapped at his masked face before grabbing a random bottle and some shot glasses. “So, drink this and let loose.” 
You took the shot off the bar and drank it quickly just in time to hear a loud cheer from the back of the bar. Your head turns to follow the commotion of people dressed up for Halloween while playing what seems to be an intense game of pool. When you saw the familiar figure with a football jersey on, your heart sank immediately. There your boyfriend was playing pool with a huge grin on his face while his friends cheered him on. The shot you took, immediately helped your stomach form the most horrendous knots and you wanted to go home. 
“No.” The demon behind the bar said before filling your shot glass up again. 
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Your eyes stared at the liquor in your glass and you then watched him lift the mask just a bit so he could down his own shot. “You brought me here on purpose.” Your eyes narrow at him. 
“I did. To see that you’re all sad for that.” His fingers motion to your boyfriend. “He has seen your text messages by the way and five missed calls.” He adds and you didn’t even want to question him he knew that you had blown up your boyfriend’s phone. 
“It’s really no point to be here. I’ll just talk to him when I get home.” You adjusted the headband on your head. “So, can you please teleport me back home Mr. Demon?”
“No.” He adds before walking around the bar so that he is sitting on the barstool next to you. His large callous hands grab the end of the stool you were comfortably sitting in and bring it closer to him. “We’re going to make your lovely boyfriend so paranoid that he’ll be groveling at your feet.” 
“And how the hell are we going to do that if he can’t see us?” Your eyes met with the mysterious demon and you felt hot under his gaze. Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face and since it was Halloween, no one was going to question why he wore a mask.
“Who said he can’t see us?” His head tilts just a bit before he snaps his finger and suddenly when he snaps his finger and moves your stool just a bit—your boyfriend glances in your direction quickly. So quickly he did a double take at how close you were with the demon who popped up in your life this evening.
Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight of you and what you were wearing and soon the demon snaps his fingers again. You watched as your boyfriend still glanced in your direction, but it was as if he simply was imagining things. He shook his head and went back to sipping his alcohol.
“He’s going to lose his mind by the end of the night.” The demon adds with confidence oozing from his tone. 
“I guess, this will work. But, I must ask. Why’d the mask? Also, where are your horns? Don’t demons have horns?” You took it upon yourself to take the cocktail that the bartender just put on the bar since no one could see you two. 
“I do have horns, just think the horns give everyone a good spook.” He points out. “Last time, a lady threw a glass at me. So, I settled with the mask and no horns.” He takes a sip from the beer bottle that the bartender sat in front of a talking customer next to him. 
“Hm,” was the only thing you said. “Are you ugly? A lot of horror stories perceive demons as ugly.” 
“Quite the opposite.” He backfires. “Can’t really haunt people's dreams to have sex with them and solve their problems if we’re ugly.” He jokes.
“Then can I see your face?” You asked, your fingers twirling the straw in your cocktail and you gave him a grin. 
“After you stop being so uptight and help me…help you.” He finishes his beer and he stands up motioning for you to follow.
With a quickness, you’re downing your cocktail and following the man in the crowd. The music was so loud that you had to practically yell out anything you wanted him to hear. “What about your name? Do you have a name?” 
“Simon, or Ghost. Whichever you prefer.” He walks over to the pool table, and leans against the pool table adjacent to the one your boyfriend and his friends were at. 
You watched as some random woman dressed as a cheerleader placed her arms around your boyfriend's waist as he was trying to hit the pool ball. You felt jealousy, anger, and betrayal seeing this. He ditched your plans to be out with her. That douche. 
“Don’t have such a down face.” Simon nudges your side before grabbing the pool table. “Like I said, we are going to make him lose his mind by the end of the night.” He grabs a hold of your waist after grabbing a pool stick. “Just go with the flow, love.” He whispered in your ear and you felt your skin decorated with goosebumps. 
Simon helped guide your hand towards breaking the balls in the middle of the table. Despite the bar being fairly cool, you felt hot with how close he was to you. His crotch pressing against the fatness of your butt in the skin-tight mini skirt. His breath itching at the shell of your ear. Just as you are about to hit the ball, he snaps his fingers again making you two noticeable in the crowd of people. The sound of wolf whistles could be heard seeing your figure bent over—if Simon wasn’t here, strangers would have been to see what your momma gave you. There as Simon helps you break the group of balls perfectly, you squeal in excitement gaining the attention of your boyfriend’s friend and soon your boyfriend again. His face goes red at the sight of Simon’s hands all on you and you watch as he scrambles to remove the pretty woman off him. He made his way to the pool table, but Simon snapped his fingers again causing your boyfriend to be confused once again. Your eyes scan over his face while he shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath. 
“And now he’s going to call you. But you’re going to ignore his call because that’s exactly what he’s been doing to you.” Simon leans against the pool table and the two of you watch as your boyfriend pulls out his phone to call you. 
You were astonished at what you were viewing, he was panicking. The mere thought of you being with another man had him about to explode. You watch as your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, a thing he does when he’s overthinking his ass off. You knew for a fact that he was overthinking the fact that you were probably out having just as much fun as him. 
“So, Simon. Do you have sex with all the women whose lives and dreams you hop into?” 
“Not all of them. Some just want someone to talk to.” He shrugs. “You on the other hand just need someone to teach your nitwit of a boyfriend to appreciate what he has.” He adds. 
“So, you wouldn’t have sex with me? Just put my boyfriend in check.” You playfully nudged his side and you were met with hardness. 
“Do you want to have sex with me?” His eyes met yours and you were forced to swallow the large lump in your throat. “Because I may have known your boyfriend is an idiot, but I also know he hasn’t touched you in weeks…a month and a half to be exact.” He adds as he turns to face you. This time, he’s caging you from leaving since you were still resting on the pool table. 
“I could have gone the sex route, but that wouldn’t solve your shitty boyfriend situation which would mean I would be stuck with you until you’re no longer miserable.” He says. “But, you and I know that you’re a good girl.” His hand adjusts the red devil horn headband on your head. “You wouldn’t cheat on him, even though..he’s probably going to cheat on you with her.” He motions to the brunette cheerleader who is still by your boyfriend's side even as he is attempting to call your phone.
“You don’t know me, Simon.” You pointed it out. “Only what you observe about my life.” 
“Then do you want to prove me wrong, love?” His hand rests on your waist tugging you closer to him. 
“I’m sure that’s what you’ll want.” 
“It is, I’m not going to deny it. But, I’m not going to force it out of you. You’re a grown woman, use your words and make your own decision.” He drops his hands from your waist and walks away from you, disappearing in the crowd and towards the bathroom. 
Like the touch-deprived woman you were, you followed before him. But just as you were walking to follow him in the bathroom, you bumped into your boyfriend. You expected your body to go right through his since Simon did snap his fingers, but you collided with your boyfriend’s shoulder gaining his attention. When he saw you, that look of shock appeared again and his lips parted to speak, but just as his hands reached out for you—your boyfriend's confused expression returned and his hand that went to grab at you, went right through you. You started to feel bad, but as you walked further away—seeing the woman clutch on your boyfriend made all the guilt that was bubbling inside of you burst. 
You walked into the bathroom and it was filled with many girls fixing their makeup and drunkenly complimenting each other. Bit by bit they scattered out the bathroom when they heard some generic pop song come on. Simon was leaning against the pink-colored tile walls waiting. 
“So, you’ve made your decision?” He asked with his arms crossed over his shoulders. 
“I wouldn’t be in here if I didn’t.” 
Simon chuckles at your words before he brings his hands to the fabric of the black mask. You were preparing yourself for what you were about to see. You knew he was attractive behind the mask, his whole demeanor screamed it. The way he carried himself. His confidence. You can go on and still be naming many other attributes. 
He pulls the mask out and you have to catch yourself from letting your jaw drop. Despite his face being decorated with scars, you had questions about—he still looked like he could have the face of an angel. His dirty blonde colored strands were ruffled due to the mask and his eyes—you’d stared upon them all night but finally putting a face to them made your knees go weak.
You walked closer towards him, “Will they see us?” You asked as you glanced back at the door. 
“Only if you want.” He closes the gap between you two. 
You mentally were weighing out the pros and cons of this. Frankly, the pros benefit you much more than the cons. So you took that leap and kissed Simon immediately. The sound of the bathroom door swung open, and someone walked in to grab a paper towel. Because of Simon and his silly demon powers, they didn’t even know you two were there. The drunken stranger walked right through you and Simon as you were making out. His hands roamed your body as if you were a precious gem he had just found. Your body attempted to guide him into one of the stalls, but he didn’t budge. You weren’t sure if it was because he had other plans in mind or if it was because of his huge stature. 
“It’s not like anyone could see us.” Simon's words mumble against your skin as he places kisses on your neck. His body guides you towards the bathroom sink before he twirls you around.
You were forced to stare at yourself in the mirror at your reflection. The clear lip gloss that formerly stained your lips was smudged across your face. Your eyes were glossy of anticipation and need for a demon you had just met. The feeling of his bulge pressing against your butt causes you to close your eyes and inhale sharply. 
“That’s true, but—one mere snap could make them see us.” You spoke out.
“They’ll be too intoxicated to notice.” His eyes met yours in the mirror before he rolled the skirt that left practically nothing for imagination up around your waist. The coolness of the bathroom causes your skin to be garnished with little goosebumps and your hair to stand up on your limbs, you clutch upon the porcelain sink. 
You only hum at Simon’s words while he pulls your panties to the side and begins to line himself to insert you after removing his cock from his bottoms. The tip of his cock rubs against your wet folds collecting the essence that stains the inside of your thighs. Each push forward into your pussy, the grip on your waist grew tighter. The sound of his cries of pleasure was like music to your ears. Completely distracting you from the fact that his cock was stretching you out bit by bit. 
“Just give me the go and I’ll keep going, love.” He professes. His eyes once more meeting yours and seeing the way your lips part apart to let out a broken moan, gave him the answer he ached to hear. His hips push forward being met with the cushion of your ass and he just wondered with not being touched in so long, how do you like to be fucked. 
“How’d you want, Y/N?” Simon questions, his hips rolling in a slow and sensational way causing you to moan some more. “Slow.” He adds before pulling himself fully out of your cunt. “Or.” His voice trails off as he’s lining himself back up to slam inside your addicting pussy again. “Hard.” 
Your brain couldn’t comprehend his question quickly enough because he soon gave you a mixture of both. Slow strokes to have you crying out his name as if the people entering and exiting the bathroom could hear you. Fast and hard strokes to have your breath hitch in your throat and for you to hold onto the surface tighter.
The vulgar sound of skin slapping against each other begins to ring in your ears like a sweet jazz tune. Your hand reaches back behind you to slow down Simon’s movement, but he swats your hand away as if it were a mere inconvenience to him. Simon lifts the shirt he wore to bring it up to his mouth. Despite the two of your bodies already crossing a boundary, he needed you to be closer. His teeth held up the ends of his shirt as he thrust forward inside you. Simon has pleasured many people in the world, but nothing was like this. No one has ever clutched around his hardened cock like this. Sweat beads form on his forehead and he felt completely pussy drunk for you. 
Your knees were growing weak but, Simon assured you that you don’t fall. With each stroke and thrust, he held you closer to make sure his motion didn’t get interrupted. Tears decorate your lashline causing your mascara to smudge. 
“Fuck.” You moaned out. “I’m so clos-” Your words were interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and your boyfriend walked in making out with the brunette who seemed to be attached by his hip all evening. 
“Don’t pay attention to him, only me.” His fingers coil into your hair tugging you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His eyes never broke eye contact with you in the mirror. “It’s just me and you in here, right?” He questions as he thrusts inside of you. 
Your eyes averted to your boyfriend as he was making out with the girl, but he broke the kiss quickly. “I just need to call her, ensure she’s okay. She hasn’t answered my calls and that’s not like her.” 
“Hmm, wonder what she’s doing.” Simon teasingly whispers in your ear. “Is she home watching her silly little Halloween movies or is she getting fucked like a slut in a bathroom?” With each word, he thrusts inside you.
“She’s probably just sleeping.” The brunette pecks your boyfriend’s lips. “Or getting fucked.” She jokes and your boyfriend pushes her away.
“That’s not funny.” He says before he tries to leave the bathroom and through the sound of your heated flesh slapping against Simon’s toned thighs, his finger snaps just in time for your boyfriend to see a glimpse of his pretty girlfriend (who he assumed was home) getting fucked a stranger he didn’t know. 
Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight but before he could fully react, Simon snapped his fingers once more causing the two of you to be merely an illusion once more. Your boyfriend ran his hand over his face finally coming to terms that he had to get out of here. He had to ensure that you were home right where he assumed you were. As Simon continued to fuck you until you were seeing stars, your paranoid boyfriend rushed out of the bathroom calling your phone that was still home. Each second, your phone went to voice mail causing your boyfriend to spiral even more at the thought that a handsome stranger had you bent over in the bar he frequently goes to. 
“And my work here is done, love. Sweets dreams.” Simon kisses the side of your temple just in time for you to finally orgasm all over his cock—but eventually, jolt up in your bedroom in a cold sweat and your panties soaked. 
Instantly, your hands run over your body where Simon formerly touched. Your fingertips dance upon your lips that he once kissed trying to process everything that just happened. He did say you were dreaming, but it felt so real. The demon costume hugging your body like a latex glove felt real. Simon’s cock being inside you felt real. 
But your suspicions were deemed true as your boyfriend burst through the room in a panic. Sweat droplets embellish his forehead as if he ran all the way home to you. 
“Y/N, did you go out tonight?” Your boyfriend asked.
With false confusion plastered on your face, you blinked a couple of times.
“No, is everything okay? Maybe you’re being just a bit paranoid, babe.”
And in his own realm which was the home of incubus demons around the world, Simon viewed the conversation unfold with a smirk.
“That’s my girl.” 
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⸻ TAGS // @syndrlla97 @leoyayzies @salaciousdoll @xintothewoodswegox @bxrbie1 @lilvampirina @wiinterz @dvafoxxystrashcan
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sydnikov · 10 months
Text
Jersey || J. Hughes
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.
Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end
A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3
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“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.
Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”
Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.
“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”
Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.
“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.
Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”
Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.
You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?
You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.
And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?
It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.
Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.
Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.
He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.
So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?
Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.
Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.
Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…
A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.
I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.
The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?
Perfect.
Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.
You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.
Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.
Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.
“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”
So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.
“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.
Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”
Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”
Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.
More confident, too.
Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.
Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.
“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.
You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”
As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.
Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.
What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.
Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.
Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.
The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.
“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.
“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”
Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—
“Oh,”
Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.
But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?
Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.
He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.
He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.
You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…
The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.
“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.
“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.
Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.
A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.
“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”
You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.
“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.
Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.
“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.
They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.
Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.
He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.
You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”
You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.
Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.
All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.
“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.
As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”
Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”
“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”
You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.
“Oh! You guys worked it out?”
You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color.  “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”
“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.
Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.
“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.
You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.
The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.
“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.
You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.
It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.
“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”
“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.
You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.
He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.
“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.
“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”
All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.
It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:
Home.
Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.
You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.
The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.
Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.
Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.
And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.
He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.
Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.
When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.
The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.
“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”
A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”
Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”
You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.
“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.
“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.
You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”
You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.
After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.
“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.
You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”
Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.
He had to approach this conversation delicately.
He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.
“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.
Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”
Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”
“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”
Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.
“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”
The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.
He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.
“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.
“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”
Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.
Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.
“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.
“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”
Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”
“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”
That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.
Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.
“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”
The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.
“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.
“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.
“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.
“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.
“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”
You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.
Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.
“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.
Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.
You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.
“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.
“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”
You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.
Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.
Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.
You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.
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A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))
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itsharleystuff · 10 months
Text
↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
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Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!
a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)
no use of y/n
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."
"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.
"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.
"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."
Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.
"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."
When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."
You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.
"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.
"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."
He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”
Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”
He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.
You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.
“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”
Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.
“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”
Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.
“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.
“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”
“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.
It had all happened last weekend.
Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.
At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.
Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.
Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.
You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.
Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.
How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…
“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”
Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”
The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.
“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”
“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.
“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.
You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”
Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.
“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.
“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”
His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.
“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.
“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”
You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.
Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.
Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.
“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”
Well shit. Now you had screwed up.
This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.
Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.
You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.
It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.
“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.
“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.
“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.
So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.
“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.
You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.
You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.
Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.
Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.
“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.
“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”
You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”
“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.
Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.
You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.
“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”
He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”
You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”
If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.
“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.
“No,” you huffed.
“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.
“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”
Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.
“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.
But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.
“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”
Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”
There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.
Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.
“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.
“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”
“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.
In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.
“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”
You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.
“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.
That was the night that started everything.
After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.
Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.
That’s how you ended up here.
Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.
“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.
“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.
“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.
“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.
“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.
The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.
“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”
“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”
And just like that, you’re left alone.
After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.
There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”
He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.
Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.
“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”
He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”
“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.
Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.
“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.
You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.
“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.
The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.
“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.
“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”
This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.
“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”
Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.
“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”
You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.
The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.
“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”
He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”
You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”
“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”
“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”
“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”
The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.
“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.
“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”
“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.
“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.
He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.
“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.
“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.
“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.
“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.
Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.
“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”
His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.
“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.
“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.
As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.
“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”
You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.
“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”
His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”
The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”
His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”
It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”
Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”
Three fucking times?
When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.
“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.
He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.
“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.
“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.
“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.
“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.
The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.
His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.
“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. ��Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”
He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”
You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.
“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.
This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.
“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”
He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.
“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”
But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.
“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.
“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.
It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.
Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.
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Text
The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: You and Eddie have some time to spare before D&D starts. It escalates quite quickly.
Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, inappropriate use of a D&D table
Available on: AO3
A/N: I’ve fallen down the Eddie hole and I can’t get out. I’m a D&D player myself, so I had to use that poor playing table here.
♣ Eddie Munson Masterlist ♣
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It was dark when you entered the cold hallways that lead to the Hellfire Club.
Your club shirt was freshly washed and ready for a long night of Dungeons and Dragons. Or, how other people would say, time for satanic rituals.
A low chuckle left your throat when you thought about it and all those newspapers and magazines talking about it, causing panic for parents. Yours didn’t care, also didn’t know you were playing the game. Otherwise they might care but then again, they were probably too busy.
All they cared about was your family image and “Stay away from Eddie Munson, he’s bad news.”
Thankfully they didn’t know that you were into bad news.
His cologne already covered your senses when you entered the Hellfire Club. Later on it would smell more like sweat and tears in here, depending on what he would throw at the group during the session.
You smiled to yourself when you saw him standing at the table, preparing his Dungeon Master screen with little notes.
“You’re so early,” you said and he looked up at you, a small grin on his lips.
“You know I have to prepare, sweetheart. The Dungeon Master is always early.” Eddie pushed himself away from the desk and walked over you. “Better question is, why are you this early? It’s at least thirty minutes until the others arrive.”
He put his hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t even realize you were that early, you just really wanted to see him before the others joined for the night.
Your relationship had been secret for a few months now and so far, no one had seemed to notice. You were just two friends playing that dumb fantasy game with other freaks. At least that's what it looked like to the other students.
No one knew about stolen touches under the lunch table and late nights in his trailer. No one needed to know that. For some reason it felt better that it was just the two of you. Easier.
If your parents knew about your relationship with the ‘School Freak and Drug Dealer’ Eddie Munson, they would try to cut your contact with him. If the other students would know, you would be a freak couple which you didn’t mind but it was just extra hassle right before graduation. Only a couple of months and you were out of here, off to college, mostly free from your parents and you didn’t need to hide anymore.
“I guess I just really wanted to see you,” you said with a shrug and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before taking your jacket off, placing it on your chair where he had already prepared your character sheet.
He turned around and looked after you, a happy grin on his lips. You knew his life wasn’t easy and that you had changed quite a lot for him, yet you would never get used to that happy little grin that was always directed at you.
“Besides,” you started, a little mischievous grin forming on your lips, “I wanted to see what you were up to behind your screen.” You quickly turned on your heels and hurried behind his seat, trying to get a glimpse at his notes.
A huff left his mouth when he started to come after you with quick steps, grabbing your hips and turning you around to face him and not his DM screen.
“That’s not very nice. Wouldn’t want my girlfriend to gain any advantages for the upcoming combat.”
A shiver ran down your spine. You loved when he called you his girlfriend, something he could only do when you two were alone. Gods, you yearned for the day he could say it openly.
“Combat huh? That’s good to know, given we’ve left off far away from any combat situations.” You bit your lips when you heard him groan in frustration.
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath and you laughed which seemed to mesmerize him. He always looked at you as you were his sun.
His look then turned into something intense and his eyes darkened slightly, his grip on your hips getting a little tighter. “We still got like twenty five minutes,” you mumbled before swallowing hard, the knot already building in your stomach.
He took a step forward and your backside hit the edge of the table. “Would hate to ruin your prep though,” you quickly added but it was too late.
He already swiped the DM screen off the table, a few notes and papers scattered across the floor with it and within a moment he had placed you on the table before him.
“I’m sure I’ll be a little more merciful during combat tonight if you can convince me to be nice,” Eddie said as he started to kiss your neck, making you lean back a little, opening yourself up to his kisses more.
This was actually the first time you were doing this in here. Normally there wasn’t enough time or Henderson was way too early but tonight it seemed like a good moment.
You certainly thought about it before. Being a Dungeons & Dragons player had just this extra kind of appeal to do it on the playing table.
Goosebumps covered your body when the long haired boy grabbed the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head. It was a little cold down here. For now.
“I’ll warm you up, don’t worry,” he said as if he just read your mind. Your hands were still holding onto his arms covered in his leather jacket, gripping the fabric a little too hard for just some harmless makeout.
You needed him. Badly.
He didn’t lose much time and started to push your bra down on one side, playing with the hard peaks and you weren’t quite sure if they were hard because of the cold or because you were already aroused after so little of his touch.
A soft moan left your throat and your legs wrapped around him almost automatically. He took this as an invitation and laid you down on the table behind you, the cold wood pressing into your back, making it arch. Thankfully he didn’t start to prepare the map and the character minis yet, so they were still safe and sound in their box.
“You’re wearing too much,” you whined and clawed a little more at his leather jacket. His three layers of clothes were always such an annoyance when you tried to get them off on your own.
“As always, sweetheart. As always,” he chuckled and then leaned back to get rid of everything, throwing it somewhere on the ground where he had thrown your shirt too.
You let your hands run over his chest slowly, trying to reach as much skin as possible from your position and then stopping at his pants.
“You sure?” he asked and raised an eyebrow, a hand of his covering both of yours.
He was acting like this was your first time having sex somewhere despite the fact that he had been inside you more times than you could count. And yet, he took the time to ask because it was a different environment and you could change your mind any time.
“Yes, let’s not waste too much time. You know how early Henderson is here sometimes.” Your answer was followed by a little laugh and then he just grinned, letting go of your hands so you could open the button, shoving his pants and underwear down to his ankles. That had to be enough.
Your mouth watered a little when you saw his length already standing at attention, begging for your touch.
One of your hands grabbed his hard cock, pulling slightly and causing him to step back further into you. Your legs wrapped around him once again and his heat radiated against your sensitive center.
He grabbed your wrists and put them at the side of your head, looking into your eyes for a long moment before smirking and then kissing you roughly. You gasped against him which caused him to put his tongue in your mouth, his naked lenght pressing harder against you.
“Eddie, please,” you whined, feeling how the wetness was pooling between your legs in your panties.
“Soon,” he whispered against your ear, “I want you to feel all night long what I did to you, right here.” He bit your earlobe before kissing your neck again, still holding onto your wrists.
Bastard, he was taking his time with you so your panties would be drenched before taking off your clothes, knowing you would feel it during the whole session later on. He loved shit like that.
You did too, if you were honest.
So he was grinding against you and out of pure reflex, you were grinding back against him. He didn’t seem to mind the rougher fabric of your jeans against him as he was busy placing kisses on your nipples and the soft flesh of your breasts, sucking lightly, leaving a bite here and there. One of them would give you a hickey for sure.
You had this rule that there were no visible hickeys allowed or people might start to ask questions. Thankfully, the skin of your breasts right under the edge of the bra weren’t a place that people got to see, so it had turned out to be his favorite spot to leave love marks.
Sweat started to build on your body from the pure torture he put you through, you hated when you couldn’t do anything. You wanted to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside of you but he took his sweet, sweet time.
“Cmon Munson, we really don’t have that much time.” You tried to sound stern, hoping he would finally take your pants off but he just laughed against your skin.
“You’re right, you’re right. Don’t pressure your Dungeon Master,” he mumbled against your belly where his lips had just arrived. “This is a special location to do that shit, so I want to make you feel special.”
Eddie leaned back and started to open your pants, painfully slow and you could have cursed at him. The grin on his lips told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.
You unwrapped your legs shortly for him to pull your pants down and you kicked them off one ankle quickly before wrapping them back around him, pulling him closer to you within a heartbeat.
“You look so gorgeous with that blush on your face and your bra in that chaotic position,” he said and chuckled, grabbing your one free breast with his hand while the other one was still mostly covered by your bra. It might have been uncomfortable but all you could think about now was his length between your legs, skin against skin. His cold rings against your heating skin made you shiver even more and you had a hard time swallowing the moan.
You could see precum glistening on it and it seemed that the waiting and teasing had affected him quite a lot.
When you thought he would push inside of you, he surprised you and crouched down a little. He let his tongue glide between your folds and you moaned loudly, not expecting him to do that right now.
“You’re so goddamn wet and taste so good.” He stood back up again and lined himself up against you, licking his wet lips before leaning down and capturing your lips into a kiss. Only a second later you felt him press against you, the tip of his cock pressing against your tight entrance.
It was no trouble for him at all to get inside you with how wet you were. You both moaned against each other's lips when he sunk himself into your wetness. When his full length was completely inside of you, he stilled and pulled away from the kiss, looking into your eyes.
“Fuck, that look,” he mumbled and you felt him twitch inside of you. “I want to, disrespectfully, fuck the shit out of you.”
“Please, go ahead. Show me what you’ve got, Dungeon Master,” you replied to his wish and he growled, placing his hands next to your head so he could support himself. You grabbed his arms, bracing yourself.
Eddie pulled out of you, clenched his jaw for a moment in the process before slamming right back into you.
You had to bite your bottom lip or the moan would have been too loud to be appropriate. No matter how often the two of you had sex, it always felt like a high you would never come down from.
Even in the faint light you could see that he was also blushing now, a faint red covering his cheeks as he started in a slow rhythm. His hair was falling over his shoulders close to your face, tickling you a little.
“Eddie,” you groaned and tried to catch his hips in a faster rhythm, trying to convince him to finish with this teasing.
“What? I don’t think I went in hard enough yet, so could you form a whole sentence?” The smug grin on his face deserved to be punched but there was nothing you could do when he finished his sentence with a rough thrust inside of you, making the table shake.
“Just fuck me already, please. I want you before the others arrive. We need to clean up and-” You didn’t get the chance to get the rest of your sentence out because he started a rougher, faster pace right away, making you choke on the sounds that wanted to leave your throat.
“Gods, I love it when you beg for me,” he whispered and you almost didn’t hear it, the slapping of skin too loud down here, echoing off the walls a little.
You would have protested that you didn’t beg, wanting to somehow throw something back at him but with the way he moved inside of you combined with the look he gave you, there were no words leaving your mouths. They all turned into moans of pleasure.
He took his arms away to grab your hips, trying to get a better hold of you so you weren’t moving so much on the table. If you were honest, you had no idea how the old table was holding up with his pace.
You noticed how he couldn’t focus his eyes on one spot. He was looking down between where you were joined and where the wet noises and skin slapping came from, then he looked at how your breasts bounced up and down, the bra merely an accessory now and then he looked at your face and smiled slightly.
For a moment you wished you could read his mind but that thought was gone within a moment when you felt his cold rings down at the sensitive skin between you.
Eddie rubbed his thumb across your clit and you had to bite your hand to stop yourself from moaning too loud. The others could arrive any moment.
“I’d love to take my time with you,” he sighed and stilled inside of you for a moment, focusing on rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves, causing you to whine in frustration. “But I guess that has to wait until after the session.”
He started moving again while also rubbing your clit, the cold steel of his rings giving another level of pleasure and he moved even faster and harder than before, hitting all the right spots inside of you.
Your legs were clenching so hard around him, your insides were a big knot and your head started spinning with the pleasure running through your whole body.
Eyes closed in bliss, you only heard how he started to pant more, cursing under his breath and his movement got more erratic. He was close but so were you.
You tried to hold out a little longer but another swipe of his thumb caused you to shrudder, back arching which caused him to slip deeper inside of you. The walls of your insides started to spasms around him, coaxing him into an orgasm of his own.
“Fuck,” was the only thing you heard from him when you felt him come inside you, his warm seed covering your insides.
Eddie slumped forward a little, his hands grabbing yours and placing them back besides your head. He looked at you with a lazy smile, drops of sweat on his forehead.
“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look after you have an orgasm?” he asked and you laughed.
“Yes, about every time I have one,” you replied and he leaned his head to the side a little.
“Really? I don’t remember hearing it that much from you, I think you don’t have enough orgasms.” You were about to reply to him but then he moved his hips, his tip stroking against that sweet spot inside of you once more.
The young man put his forehead against yours and both of you rested like this for a moment.
It was really only a short moment before you heard the telltale sound of the door and a loud “HELLFIRE!” that sounded like it came from Henderson.
A couple of seconds passed before you realized what was going on.
“Shit,” he groaned and slipped out of you, almost tripping over the pants that were hanging on his ankles.
A moment of panic overcame you as you were sitting up straight but he stopped you, cupping your hot center with his hand.
“I told you, I want you to feel it all night long,” he whispered as he was pulling your panties up, replacing his hand with them.
“I-” you started but he already had his lips back on yours, swallowing any protest. His cum would stay inside of you for the whole session.
You heard footsteps and he quickly pulled his pants up while moved off the table and got your pants back in place.
Eddie threw you your Hellfire Club t-shirt and pulled his own over his head too, placing his jackets on his chair.
Both of you quickly hurried to get the things you threw onto the ground while the footsteps grew louder. You winced with every movement you did, panties full with his cum and your own wetness, making you even more wet.
His eyes were on you, watching you and you threw him a look that was a combination of annoyance and lust. He just chuckled and winked at you, trying to get up his DM screen once more.
“Hey guys!” Dustin said as he was entering, followed by Mike and Lucas.
“Welcome!” Eddie replied with a great gesture of his hands.
“Hi.” You waved at them, hoping your hair looked fine and your blush was gone from your face.
The three kids were taking their seats and you lifted your character sheet up from the floor, placing it back on the table.
Just looking at that piece of wood made you blush a little but thankfully it was dark enough here so no one should notice.
“Did you wash your shirt too hot?” Mike suddenly asked and looked at Eddie. He raised an eyebrow and that’s when you saw it.
It was fitting really tightly around him. Too tightly.
Meanwhile your own shirt was hanging a little too loosely from your body. Fuck.
“Yeah, that must be it. I’ve been wondering why it was like that, I’m not good with laundry,” he said with a nonchalant shrug before he looked at you.
It was barely noticeable but his jaw clenched and that little vein on his neck started to show.
His look told you he would gladly take that shirt back later.
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lnfours · 5 months
Text
tolerate it | l.n
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summary: if it’s all in my head, tell me now. tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow.
warnings: happy folklore/evermore season :) angst, language, fears of your partner falling out of love with you, slight anxiety and overthinking, fluffy ending bc i can’t make them stay mad at each other. kinda wanna do an evermore/folklore mini series, let me know if you guys would be interested <3
masterlist | listen
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
the colder weather meant the sun was starting to set earlier, and it was evident as you gazed out the window, sitting at the dining room table. the candle you had lit an hour or so ago flickering softly, illuminating the room with a soft glow as the gloomy sky hovered above.
you sighed to yourself, taking another sip from the wine glass that sat next to your plate. you tapped on your phone screen, lighting up and displaying the time and the picture you had set as your lock screen. the 5:30 hovering tauntingly above the picture of you and lando from a few months back, your smile wide and trying to hide it in his shoulder as he held his camera to the mirror. he was sporting a smile also, you could almost hear your shared giggles through the photo.
he was supposed to be home an hour ago, and nights like this were happening more often. he’d always be an hour to an hour and a half late getting home. it was always an apology, saying ‘training ran late’ or the quadrant shoot ‘ran on longer than it was supposed to’, you’d see him for fifteen minutes while the two of you ate dinner, and then he’d go off to the office until he decides to join you in bed later in the night.
at first, you didn’t complain, knowing he was a man with a busy schedule, but after almost two months of this same song and dance, your anxiety was getting the best of you.
what if he was out with someone else? what if he was slowly losing interest in you? what if he just tolerates you?
the sound of the door closing pulled you from your thoughts, snapping your head up as you heard footsteps enter the room. he placed his keys, wallet and phone on the counter, frowning softly.
“sorry i’m late,” here we go again, “i told max i needed to be home by 4 and he insisted we played another round before i left.”
you nodded, taking another sip from the glass on your right, “‘s fine.”
he watched you swallow thickly, tilting your head to look back out the window. he noticed the way your hand tapped against your arm softly, his eyes moving to the plates set on the table. your grandmother’s china.
his heart dropped when he thought back to your conversation the other night, him saying the two of you would have a proper sit down meal tonight since he felt bad for running late lately.
and he just fucked it all up even more.
“you don’t have to lie,” he said, making you advert your attention back to him, “i know you know it’s not fine.”
you shook your head, “what’s it matter to you, anyway?”
he knew he deserved the digs and jabs you were sending his way, “seriously, lando, if you’re not interested in me anymore just say it instead of making me play this stupid game.”
the silence that fell between the two of you after was the final blow. he watched your cheeks glisten in the soft candle light, and fuck, he hated seeing you cry. especially when it was because of him.
he didn’t know what to say as your chair scraped the floor, getting up from your spot at the table and picking up your plate. the food untouched as you grabbed the saran wrap from the pantry.
he heard your quiet sniffle, “i’m so sorry, y/n-“
“then where have you been the past two months?” he blinked back at you before you continued, “every single day it’s the same, overused excuse. so, what is it really, lando? enlighten me.”
he swallowed because he didn’t have answer that didn’t sound like he was making an excuse. he really had been busy with work, but he knew he could’ve done better with planning to make more time for you and him.
you knew he loved you with every fiber of his being, but you were upset. you were angry and sad and all you wanted was for him to come home and spend time together like the two of you used to do. but it was like it was too much to ask for.
of course you knew what you were signing up for when he took you on your very first date, but you didn’t know it would mean being put on the back burner, begging to be let in on the things going on his life.
his silence made you nod, “right,”
he reached out to you slowly, not sure how you would react. you bit down on your bottom lip, the dam breaking now as he stepped towards you.
“y/n,” he said your name softly, understanding that your lash-outs were because of men who had hurt you in the past, knowing too well what it felt like when anxiety and over thinking takes over. he couldn’t be mad at you, he just wanted to make things right. make you feel reminded that he loved you. more than racing, more than his friends, more than anything in the whole world.
the back of your hands were raised to your eyes when he grabbed them and pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his chest. you gave in, knowing that at the end of the day, he was your safe place. your shoulder to cry on, the one who always saw you in your most vulnerable stages. there was no getting past him with this one.
your hands wrapped around his middle loosely as you cried softly into his chest. he rested his head against yours, rubbing your back the same way he always did whenever he’d comfort you. his lips pressed against your hair before he grabbed your face gently, lifting your chin to have you look at him.
he wiped the tears from your cheeks, eyes searching yours and that’s when you realized he had been crying too, “i’m gonna talk to my trainer and the guys and tell them i need a little bit of a break, and you and i are gonna spend every single day together doing whatever you want.”
you felt selfish now, “but this is your job, lan,”
“i don’t care,” he said, shaking his head as he moved his hand to hold your cheek, “they’ll be fine if i take a few days off.”
your hand came up to mimic his on your cheek, your fingers brushing against the small moles on his face. the same ones your lips press against whenever you kiss his face. the pads of your thumbs brushed away the small tear lingering around his nose.
“i’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling guilty for being cold to the boy who loved you like no other.
“don’t apologize,” he said, “i should’ve done better. you don’t deserve to feel like you’re on the back burner of my life.”
you wrapped your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as if it was even possible. you looked back out the window, the light from the golden hour sun shining on the trees in the backyard. he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “i love you.”
you smiled softly, pulling back to meet his gaze. your smile making his lips turn up into one mirroring yours, “i love you, too.”
he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, a mixture of the wine you had with dinner and the salty tears you had cried a few moments prior with the subtle hint of your chapstick.
you both pulled away, him taking you by surprise when he lifted you off the ground. you squealed, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you clung onto his hoodie for dear life.
“lando!” you laughed, letting him carry you to the couch and thanking yourself for putting his dinner plate in the fridge earlier.
you had your boy back.
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alotofpockets · 4 months
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My jersey | Katie McCabe
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Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader
Prompt: "You're wearing my jersey."
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1k
When Katie asked you to come back to Ireland with her to visit her family, you were very excited as it was a big step in your relationship. However, now that you had landed in Ireland, you were only feeling nervous. “They are going to love you.��� Katie reassured you one more time before entering her childhood home. Your girlfriend had a big family but the following week it would be mostly her parents and her younger sister Lauryn at the house. 
As Katie predicted, her parents loved you, and you got along great. They made Katie’s favorite meal for her coming home dinner, which according to Sharon was a tradition they created years ago. You thought it was a very sweet tradition and were happy to participate with the amazing food that was served. The first day of your stay was short, since you landed pretty late, so after dinner you played some games with her family before calling it a night.
The next morning you wake up before Katie, you get up and look around her childhood bedroom, something you didn’t get to last night. Her shelves are full of trophies and medals, and the wall above her dresser is filled with pictures of her with her family and friends. Your eyes land on one with her and Lauryn, both decked out in muddy soccer gear, paired with big smiles. “Good morning, baby.” Katie says from behind you. “Good morning, darling.” You quickly make your way back to the bed for some morning cuddles, placing soft kisses on her lips once you’re under the covers again. 
Katie has a meeting with her national team coaches today, which she was currently getting ready for. “Are you sure you’ll be fine here? I would take you with me if I could, I promise.” Katie asks for the fifth time this morning. “Yes, darling, I will be fine. Now go, you’re going to be late.” You say while practically dragging her out of her bedroom. 
Once Katie was out the door you realized that her sister was looking a bit sad, you sat down on the couch with her. “Hey, Lauryn, is everything alright?” You ask her. “It’s fine.” She quickly shoots back but you could read on her face that it wasn’t. “Okay, I won’t push but know that you can talk to me if you want to.” You were about to stand up to give the girl some space, when she started to confide in you. “Katie promised to help me practice but now she’s here but is in meetings, and you’re here. No offense of course, I’m very glad that Katie has found someone, and you’re really nice, I just meant that I know she will want to spend time with you.” You nod along to what she shares. “Well, two things. First of all, Katie has been talking about you the whole week. How far you’ve come with soccer already, how proud she is of you, and how excited she is to play with you.” You give Lauryn a moment to let the first part sink in before you continue. “Second of all, I know family is very important to Katie, and I would never stand in between that. I want you to know that my relationship with your sister does not change anything for your relationship with her. You need her, and she will be there, that will never change. Not that she would in the first place, but I would never let her break any promise that she made to you.” You managed to get a smile back on Lauryn’s face. “Thank you, y/n. I needed that.” You share a quick hug. 
“Hey, I know I’m no Katie McCabe, captain of the Ireland national team, but I’ve got some experience being on the England national team and all.” You joke, “Would you like to go to the field and kick the ball around?” You both head to your rooms to change, meeting back downstairs. 
When Katie gets back she only finds her mom there. “Hi mum, have you seen y/n?” Her mom smiles, knowing her daughter had found a good one, having overheard your earlier conversation with Lauryn. “Yeah, y/n and Lauryn went to the field a little over an hour ago.” Katie thanks her mother before heading to the field.
She realizes that neither one of you had noticed her yet, so she took that time to admire the scene in front of her. You were running drills with her sister. Showing Lauryn a technique and then helping her perfect it. The interaction with her sister wasn't the only thing she was admiring. She was also admiring you in the jersey you were wearing. An Ireland jersey with her name and number on the back. 
She snaps a quick picture before she shoots the ball that had come rolling her way back your way, successfully hitting the back of the net. Both you and Lauryn turn around to see who took the shot, you smile when you see Katie. “Show off!” You yell her way.
You meet her half way, while Lauryn continues working on the technique you just showed her. “Hi darling. How was your meeting?” You say before placing a kiss to her cheek. “It was good, they wanted my opinion on some potential new recruits.” While Katie talks about the meeting, you notice she keeps looking at your outfit with a doped grin. “What's got you smiling like that, darling?” You ask pretending you don't know the reason. 
"You're wearing my jersey." She states, still checking you out. “I like it.” She quickly pecks your lips, before running off to join her sister on the field. Seeing you wearing her national team jersey felt so special to her, especially since you play for a different country. 
You spend the rest of the afternoon on the field with Katie and Lauryn, only heading back when it was time for dinner. The food was amazing, once again. All the nerves about meeting Katie's family had dissolved after meeting them, they made you feel right at home.
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strawberryspence · 11 months
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belated happy birthday, @unclewaynemunson. this is so late already, but i had finals, so sorry for that. i am so very lucky to be able to call you my friend and even more lucky to be able to know you. i love you and that rat in your kitchen. 💜
-
Steve’s shaking. His hands won’t stop trembling and his knees are close to bucking in.
Which is— ridiculous. It’s just dinner with Uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne.
The same man who also took him in when his parents finally kicked him out for being a “sinner” and for sleeping with one of “the devil’s soldiers.” The same man who took him to the hospital when his migraine got so bad, he begged for death. The same man who accepted his and Eddie’s relationship wholeheartedly and made them breakfast with raised eyebrows.
It’s just Wayne.
Steve doesn’t really know why he’s trembling with anxiousness when his knuckles finally make contact with the apartment door— the one Eddie and Steve got for him (after a very long time of pursuing and pushing because no matter how famous and rich Eddie gets, Wayne still thinks they should keep everything for emergencies). He deserves it after everything.
“Steve.” The door swings open, Wayne’s smile greeting him.
He’s older now. More wrinkles, more white hairs. He’s got a creak in his knees that Eddie keeps teasing him on. He’s still dressed in one of his hundreds of flannels, a sweater underneath it to shield him from the colder weather.
“Hi, Wayne.”
They hug for a while, say their hellos, ask how the other is doing (not like Steve doesn’t know, they just talked through the phone yesterday, just like every other day). Steve helps him set the table, just for the two of them. Steve doesn’t say anything when Wayne takes out the mac and cheese with crumbled bacon from the oven, Steve’s favorite Wayne delicacy, he only smiles and starts digging in to eat his nerves away.
“So…” Wayne starts, after a sliver of silence, a second after they talk about the latest basketball game and how Sinclair’s play was impressive on the latest game.
“Hmm?” Steve hums, chewing through the food like it’s his last meal on earth.
“Listen, I love having dinner with you, son. But I can’t help but notice that Eddie was not invited.” Wayne raises an eyebrow at him, and it takes him back to the morning when Eddie and Steve finally tell him that they’re dating.
“Oh. Uhm.” Steve straightens up. He can do this. He rehearsed his speech in front of the mirror and then in front of Nancy who changed a few things and then in front of Robin who gave him the green light.
“So as you know, Eddie and… I… well, we’ve been together for over ten years now. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now, and I know it’s not legal. I don’t know if it’s ever going to be, but I can’t wait any longer. Every day I don't get to call him my husband makes me— breathless. So, yes, I want to marry Eddie.” Steve announces firmly, before sputtering to follow it up, “With your permission and approval!”
Well… throw the whole speech out of the window then, damn.
Wayne blinks at him, hands crossing on his chest, as he watches Steve. It makes him nervous, activating his ramblings, “Eddie… Eddie is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I want to continue making him happy for the rest of my life. I know— I know I am not perfect, but I try my best every day. I will do everything and anything for that man, and I would never do anything to hurt him. He makes me a better person by just existing and he— Eddie— is the love of my life. But none of that matters without your approval, I can never marry him without your approval.”
They sit in silence for a second before Wayne stands up and disappears to his room. Steve sits still. That’s— that’s rejection, right? Should Steve just leave? Maybe he should clean the dishes before leaving?
Before Steve can even stand and start cleaning the plates, Wayne comes marching out of the room again.
He sits in front of Steve again, a soft smile on his face, “Listen, Steve. Eddie’s his own man. He always has been. But I appreciate you asking me for my permission, and I give it to you wholeheartedly.”
Wayne pushes a small box on the table, pushing it towards Steve.
“What’s this?” Steve whispers, astonished by the approval.
“Open it.” Wayne urges, as Steve lifts the box, popping the lid open.
A small gasp spills from Steve’s mouth. Inside the box is a beautiful silver engagement ring. There’s a garnet stone in the middle, surrounded and hugged by silver to accentuate the gem. Steve looks up at him, eyes wide.
“This is our gamma’s engagement ring. I am sure it’s older than that. But I got it back from my sister when she—“ Wayne pauses, grief still fresh even if it’s been almost 30 years, “— passed on. With Eddie’s preferences, I didn’t think it would be possible, so I kept it for safekeeping.”
Steve shuts the box as he starts shaking his head immediately, pushing the box back, “Wayne— I can’t— I don’t deserve—“
Wayne shakes his head, wrapping Steve’s hand on the box, “Steve, none of that nonsense. I’ve always seen you as a son, this just makes things official. It belongs to Eddie and I know he would love it, and I would love for you to use it.”
Steve stares at him as Wayne finally stands up, arms opening wide, “Well, come on. Give your father-in-law a hug.” Steve laughs, tears filling his eyes as he stands up to hug Wayne. How could he ever think this man would tell him no? Not when Wayne’s seen him as a son long before Steve even saw him as another dad.
Wayne tightens his arms around him, gently whispering, “You’ve always been part of this family, but still, welcome to the family, Steve.”
(And in a few weeks, when Steve finally goes on one knee, his heart in one hand and the ring on the other, Eddie will say yes. And Wayne will proudly watch his sons cry and laugh with happiness, give them two thumbs up, and a proud smile.)
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pursuitseternal · 5 months
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“The Rogue You Were:” Ascended Astarion x Fem!Reader, a fic to sate your desires, darling…
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Baldur’s Gate 3 | Explicit | 5.3K Vampire smut
Summary: After the ending of the storyline… After weeks apart, the blink of an eye for you immortals, Astarion returns from consolidating his rule, expecting a “warm welcome.” But you miss your charming, tortured rogue… and you will play whatever games he wants to get him to remember. To make him remember the rogue he was.
Cw: dom/sub dynamics, choking, breath play, spanking, “don’t move unless I tell you😈,” power play, biting (obviously), blood kink and drinking (vampires, duh), NSFW on so many levels.
Read the whole story below the cut, darling…
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
It is late, the candles have all gutted out, the lingering scent of smoke wafting to your nose as you wind your way through hall after hall of the Crimson Palace. Your head would be swimming, should be swimming, with the amount of potent High Fae wine you have consumed.
But you are turned, your body pulses with ascendant blood in your veins. His blood.
Even as your irritation at him burns hot, you cannot deny how your body trembles to think of your master. And even as you leave the long vacant ballroom, you sigh his name to no one but the air… Astarion. He has been so distant of late, pulled from your side all day and night, meeting with important and powerful beings. Consolidating his… your… power as you take what is yours from Baldur’s Gate. No one cuts a deal, turns a profit, threatens your security without the effects lining your pockets or without enemies ending up dead. Drained. Signs to those who oppose Astarion the Ascended. Your mind fills with that shining smirk, those glowing crimson eyes framed in lustrous pale skin.
Your heart skips a beat. For the first time in weeks you saw him tonight, mingling at the ball, turning heads all around him, persuading with words, with promises of power and gold, if not with promises of his body. No. Never that again. That body is yours as you are his. He will never whore himself out anymore. Those days are so far behind him, you must always take caution never to mention what it was for him before his ascension. That vampire rogue that trapped you between his hard, cold thighs to hold a dagger to your throat.
Love at first sight.
You shake your head. No, not love. Obsession. Fascination. His thrall long before he gave you his blood.
You pass open windows, billowing curtains of finest gauze catching in the nighttime breezes. Starlight cuts the darkness in iridescent beams, patches of brilliance flooding the shadows that cling to every corner. You lose yourself, smelling the wine on your own breath as you sigh, looking into the sky at the multitudes of stars above.
Lost and alone. Until you hear that silken voice caress your ear. “There you are…” You whip your head around, catching two glowing red eyes and shining fangs grinning at you from the closest bank of shadows. Astarion turns his head to face you fully, reclining against the wall even as you tremble visibly at the sight of him. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he purrs. That line, the one that first sank his claws deep into your heart even as he sank his cock hard between your folds for the first time— that line still makes your breath snag in your own throat.
And you love it.
Noiselessly, he crosses to you, standing in the window, bathed in the light of the stars. “What, my treasure? Not happy to see me?” His full lips turn in a saccharine pout, all a show, bait to lure you in. “I really expected a warmer welcome home than this.” His fangs glint as he draws to a stop, so close to you, the gems and beads of his velvet tunic brush against you. “Or have you grown so cold blooded since I made you mine… my consort?”
He growls his possession of you, and the blood in your veins does run cold. Chilled. Frozen even as you feel his breath whistle in the stray locks of your hair as he lowers his mouth to your neck. You turn your head on instinct, baring your neck and trembling even as his mouth descends towards your skin. Lips press, soft and attentive, trailing caresses up to the tender spot beneath your pointed ear.
“May I bite you?” He breathes the question down your neck. A lingering vestige of the sad, unsure rogue you met on the road, asking for your yes even though he thrums with power, the power to coerce your every word to assent.
That memory of his tragic eyes and wandering soul, the male that first crossed your path, it haunts you. The moment you feel his lips sneering, raising to bare his fangs ready to bite, you turn sharply. “Who said you could bite yet, my love?” you smirk in return. “Gone for weeks, and you expect such a willing, warm welcome.” You shake your head, the links and gems of your heavy, encrusted earrings jangling with the motion. “No, you tell me first I am more to you than the power you horde now that you are free, and then maybe, just maybe, you may have your fill.”
His crimson eyes narrow, displeasure darkening his expression and tinging his pale skin with ashen pools as he stares in return. “Well now, seems you have forgotten your place. Forgotten that all I do is for us, and our rule of Baldur’s Gate.” His voice is cold and exacting, his arms folding over his chest to square his chiseled shoulders.
It is the same, the same posture he once stood in so often before you. After battles, blood spattered and charming. A mirage. It is a memory, nothing more, as you see only the dark, hungry ascended being he has become.
“Our rule?” You spit, squaring your shoulders, wishing you had some weapon more than the fangs between your own lips. “Doing this… for us?” You place your hands on his chest, pressing into the decadent stitching and beading of his tunic. Hard muscles push and flex beneath your touch. “I know there is an us, you and me, bound together for all time. But, do not deceive yourself, Astarion, you crave the power for you. Not as gift for me…”
“Mmm, my pet, sharpened your claws in my absence, readying your own fangs for my neck now,” he gives a low, rapid laugh. “Simply riveting.” His head cocks back, moonlight spilling into those silver curls that fall with reckless abandon. Haphazard. Sexy. And he knows it, the way you can’t keep your eyes off of him. “Now, be a good girl,” he growls, “and welcome me home.”
You eye him for a moment, but that is all he allows for you. Resisting is futile against your maker. Even without the magic of your blood bond, he knows your heart is and always has been his. That is enough to compel you, knowing how you will cave at the first tangle of his tongue in your mouth, the first slip of his fingers into your wetness.
Faster than the lightning, he sweeps you into his arms and bolts down hall after hall, swifter than wind with his preternatural speed. His laugh tickles your ear as you cling to his shoulders, arms wrapped firmly around his neck, until he bursts through your bed chamber door.
You catch your breath with a gasp, a muffled cry ripping from your throat as he tosses you into the middle of those blood red sheets. Like you weigh nothing to him. His precious toy, his play thing. And by the gleam in his crimson eyes and the run of his tongue over his fang points, he is about to have his fill of playing with you.
Slowly, he creeps on to the bed, the mattress buckling under his hands, his knees, as he slinks closer to cover you with his body. Master of all your desires, he makes certain you feel his arousal pressing on your mound through the layers of your dress and his trousers. So hard for you, you wonder briefly why you pretend to resist. The thrill of the hunt, you suppose, letting him grind into you slowly. His knee catches under yours, insistent, pushing, spreading your legs wider as your skirt naturally rucks itself higher. A slight breeze makes you catch your breath, the chill swirling over your skin, passing the throbbing heat of your mound. And he thrusts that massive and contained cock harder, more demandingly, against you. The friction makes your mouth water, but it is nothing compared to what it is to have him inside.
“Now,” he closes in to cover you, arms bracing firmly to cage you at your shoulders. One hand lifts, fingers closing in around your throat. Not too hard, but enough to make you shiver and open your mouth for air. “I think there is something you wish to say, an invitation, an acceptance that dances on the tip of your tongue. Will you share it….” His eyes flicker to your opened mouth, slack as his fingers press just a bit harder on your windpipe, “… or will you have me pull it from your mouth with mine, my love?”
You struggle for words, your agreement and your dissent fight in equal measure. No words will suffice, and with a press of your own elbow into the bed beneath you, you force your head to lift. Your mouth claims his conceited smirking lips, even as his hold on your throat grows painful with your movement. Stars fill your eyes as you gasp into his mouth. That controlling hand instantly lifts its clutch from your windpipe, sweeping to the back of your head. Fingers tangling into the unraveled strands of your braid. His taste is more intoxicating than the wine tonight. You missed him, his taste, the way his tongue sweeps and explores your mouth. The way it dances over the points of your fangs. The commanding manner he teases your tongue between his lips to do the same. Weeks of deprivation from his passion, and you fall right back into it, letting his lust for you thrum in your veins and race like fire through your nerves. You gasp as he consumes your lips, the slightest thrust of his arousal against your body enough to nearly make you come already.
So attentive, his hands begin to loosen the laces on your bodice, deliberate but gentle as he exposes you inch by inch. What fabric does not fall away, he grabs between his two hands, tearing without even breaking from your kiss. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that all night. To get you completely bared… naked and mine. My little… treat.”
…with your cheeks all flushed…
That is him, that… was him. Your rogue. Despite the power that now consumes him, the darkness that whispers around him, that creeps into his complexion, your tortured rogue is still within him. No matter how much he tries to deny it, to bury it beneath power and wealth and sex with you.
You want to, need to, coax him out from there.
“Perhaps,” you breathe, “perhaps you need to show me you have missed me before I welcome you in, welcome you home… warmly?”
He breaks from your lips, that arrogant brow raising as his lips twist in that smirk that makes your core even more molten. “I have missed you, every moment we were apart, my love. Your blood inside me would never be enough to satisfy, not until I am inside you, and only then once we have totally…” he places a kiss on the crest of your shoulder, “…completely…” another kiss in the crook of your neck, “… spent ourselves… will we even be close to… “satisfaction.”
You shiver, your whole body shaking as he doesn’t bite, but runs those pointed fangs across your skin. You tap into your own reserves of immortal strength, threading your fingers into those unruly silver curls to pry his mouth from your flesh. “Your words are sweet, my love, but I prefer action.” Your hand pulls his pale neck within your own reach, your tongue running along the edge of his pointed ear, licking and sucking loudly, ignoring the cold metal loops and piercings as you pleasure him. He sighs, his body losing some of that rigid edge, softening under your attentions. “Let me bite you first, my love. Gain my strength as your spawn, so long deprived of her master’s power. Show me that you will put your love for me first, above your… ambitions… and just maybe I’ll let you slip inside without begging.”
“If that is what it will take,” he replies in that deep, honeyed voice of his, “then by all means, bite away, pet.”
That softness in his voice, that supple way his frame clings to yours, you know that the rogue he once was still creeps behind his ambition, his love for you still surfacing through his lust for power. You swirl your tongue over the span of his neck, the taste of his skin is a familiar blend of sweat and spice, cold to the touch as he ever has been.
Your undead lover.
Your own fangs prick his skin, gently, enough to fill your mouth with his blood. Sweet and heady, more intoxicating than wine. A bouquet that satisfies and overwhelms you in one swallow. Instantly, you feel the swirl of his power coursing through you, your limbs cramping as ascendant magic takes over. One more swallow, and you release your mouth, careful not to take too much from Astarion, let you spark his ire. His brows cant as he looks at you again, and you must look… different. More powerful? More lustful? But you can see as he gazes down at you, the trickle of his own blood running down his pale neck, that he is… impressed. Desire ignites somehow more brightly behind those crimson eyes.
You drink in his easy smirk, the soft caress of his fingers over your cheek, his thumb softly wiping away his blood from the corner of your mouth. Then he raises that thumb, his pink tongue licking his own blood from its stained pad. You feel his arousal beat as it throbs between your legs still. So pleased... but pleased with himself. His body instantly shifting to pin you back under him, bending you to his will again.
“Tch,” you make the sound that he so often makes at you, that condescending suck of your teeth. “So close my love, but I’m not through with testing your love.”
“Careful,” he hisses as his eyes narrow with danger and warning, “I bite… too.” He flashes those perfect teeth down at you. “Do not try me too hard, love,” his voice that silken growl.
“But I will try you just enough,” you dare to reply, your words earning that intrigued and sultry smirk from him. Closing your eyes, you picture the doors just beside you, garden doors that lead into the dirt and the trees of your private courtyard. His power courses in you, filling your belly and flooding your frame with your own heightened abilities. You push him off you, making him stagger to his feet on the floor. Your hands find his chest, racing with your own vampiric speed until you force him through those garden doors and into the moonlight. Your feet slip on the dirt, your dress falling off your body in the tatters he made. You stand naked, your strength making him buckle before you, making him lower his body to lie beneath you as you straddle your legs around his waist in the dust and grass and dirt.
He releases a low, feral growl, but he does not resist, letting you now press your body, bared completely to his eyes, to cover his. “Now,” his voice barely audible through the salivating hunger in his throat, “have I earned your assent at last, my pet?”
“Not until you fuck me in the dirt like the rogue you were,” you pant, fighting the urge to bring his long and cold fingers to pierce the molten slick between your thighs. You raise yourself from his chest, gripping your thighs around his waist and letting your slick soak his elegant and refined clothes. You feel him squirm beneath you, bucking his hips ever so slightly, dragging the sensation of his wet velvet breeches through your folds.
He sneers slightly, anger fluttering in that deep crimson gaze, as if you can see the memories of what he was clawing to the surface. His voice is like ice, slippery and cold. “The rogue I was is gone, my pet, but, if you wish me to be roguish, then roguish I shall be…” He barely gives you a warning, a flash of brightness in his eyes before he flips you on your back, your body slamming loudly against the dirt, knocking the wind from your lungs. His long, elegant fingers make quick work of the buttons down his chest. The bright fabric of his tunic flutters as he tosses it, not giving a shit where it lands as long as his skin finally brushes against your round, full, and swaying breasts.
He pauses a moment, kneeling over you, caging you between his cold and hard thighs. He licks his lips at you, the offering for his consumption, splayed in the dirt. Memories flicker over his eyes, a soft smile of recognition, of being here before, with you. Naked in the dirt. Your luxurious clothing crumpled, your sumptuous bed too far. If you close your eyes, you and he are as you first met, lust and love pulsing in the air, your backs covered in the grime of dust and sweat. Your hands press against those thighs that pin you, the black velvet crushed and soft as you run them higher. He smirks, approving your every little inching progress towards that straining erection. The leather ties of his band snap as you tear at them, the more they loosen, the more you can see the pale and glistening head of his cock.
He grinds his hips under your touch, the black cloth, sticky with your slick peeling away to reveal the thing you have craved for these weeks. Long and pale, engorged with his need for you, so hard every vein down its shaft is visible, his cock twitches every time you brush it as you free it.
“Mmm,” he groans to finally bare himself to you. “Just say the word, darling, and you’ll see more stars than are in the sky.” He croons, he preens, running a hand through his own hair as you take his cock in your hand. You stroke his immense length, the rises of each vein along it as familiar to you as if it were your own body.
Darling, he calls you. You run your thumb over his weeping head, spreading the pearl of cum along the ridge of his cock. Your first pet name. Not treasure, not consort, not treat…
“Call me darling again, and I’ll let you slip inside, my love,” you purr, bracing your other hand into the opening of his breeches to softly cup his balls as well.
His brow raises as he shifts himself, his hands lifting your legs one at a time until he crouches between your thighs. “Well then, I best make certain you are ready to welcome me inside…” he breaths, aiming his haughty mouth for your quaking belly before he places a kiss just above your navel, “…darling.”
His lips trail kisses lower, covering your hips, your belly, as if, for all the ascendant power flowing in veins, he can’t help but to adore your body. You moan your approval, slipping your fingers into those tantalizing silver curls, savoring every sway and lift of his head as he nestles himself lower over your mound. His breath is hot, chilling you more than the cold press of his hands as he spreads your folds open. Then, Astarion lifts his head one last time, flashing a taunting pout from between your thighs. “Please, darling,” he raises a brow, expectantly. “Just a little bite…” his fingers trace your innermost thigh, his head turning to lick you, his tongue lapping you in a single broad stroke. “You know how sweet you taste,” he purrs as he presses his nose, nuzzling that supple flesh of your inner thigh.
“Be my rogue, not my master,” you grip his hair tighter, staying him from lowering to feast on you. “Call me your darling, not your consort…” you pant, watching him lick his fang slowly, “and I’ll welcome you home to feed on me wherever you desire.”
“Darling,” he croons, slipping his long, dexterous fingers deep in your walls. “I’ll be your everything, since you are… mine.” Fingers crook inside you as he speaks, his voice low and wicked and dripping with sex, his touch catching your inner spot that makes you moan. The perfect sound of submission to his claim. To his possession of you. And you of him. “Are we… agreed?” His voice rasps against your thigh once more, mouth drooling as it hovers at the ready.
“Yes,” you breathe, you moan at last. The next instant you feel his bite, slicing into your thigh, your body trembling too much from his hooking fingers that thrust in and out of you to even notice the pain.
You feel the tug of his lips, the strong suck of his mouth around his bite marks as he drinks you. His tongue laps at your leg, his fingers ever attentive inside you as he drives you mad, salivating with every stroke and tug and thrust of his touch, every catch of your clit with his thumb.
You buck your hips, trying to catch even more friction as he pleasures you, but instantly he pulls away, taking that soaked hand from inside you to press your belly back down hard. The emptiness makes you cry his name, the strength of his hand on your hips adding a moan to it.
“Don’t move, pet,” he rasps, licking his lips to clean them of your blood. “Don’t be a bad girl, not now…”
You tremble, as he lowers his mouth again, careful to freeze, holding your breath until those mesmerizing fingers return to the demanding rhythm inside you again. You hold still, controlling even your breathing, even your eyes fluttering as you feel sucking once more. Filled with your blood for now, he runs his tongue from your thigh, tracing the distance down your leg until it slips between your folds as well.
Masterful, no tongue can sweep with more precision, more force, than his as he laps your clit. It takes but another swirl over your seam, his fangs catching slightly on your folds, to send you into the oblivion of orgasm.
Your fingers clutch at his hair wildly, clawing so hard you could draw blood if he let you. You pant, unable to say anything other than the muffled syllables of his name. And he just laughs, low and throaty as he watches you writhe in the dirt. You finally open your eyes, meeting his approving smirk, that cocky eyebrow raised in pure dark delight. “I told you not to move,” his grin widens wickedly, “so disappointing, darling.”
“But,” you grimace, groaning, but he just places a single finger over your lips, ordering your silence.
“Tch,” he sucks his teeth, teeth that still drip with your blood, “you will move when I say you can.”
“Is this how you wish to be welcomed home? You have always been fond of such games.” You smirk, watching him slip his breeches completely free from his long, pale legs.
“Mmm,” he assents, “but it will be my turn first, my pet, until you’ve earned yours.”
“Astarion,” you reply, but his finger only returns to press harder against your mouth.
“Shhh, you can speak, too, when I tell you to, darling,” that finger pushes into your mouth, wiggling over your tongue. “Now, suck, my love.”
Suck you do, cleaning his fingers of your tangy slick. He groans as you lick him clean, every swirl of your tongue driving him wild, his other hand flying to his cock as he grips that twitching, engorged length. Rubbing himself, he thrusts his hips in time with your tongue. As his breathing grows sharper, heavier, you know he’s not going to last much longer. And you bite one fang into the thick pad of his finger.
His blood caresses your tongue again, the power within him stronger, headier, as you can almost taste his arousal. He rips his finger from your mouth with a snarl. “I said suck, not bite or bleed me dry, my love.” His hands are at your knees, raising them until your ass lifts from the ground, his hand slapping firmly on your cheek. You cry aloud at the resounding spank. But he only laughs again. “Bad girl, crying when I did not say…” His hand slaps again, just the same as before, deliberate but not painful. A pleasurable punishment. And you swallow your cry this time, careful not to so much as grunt. He smiles his approval back down at you. His eyes whisper, good girl, as he sets your legs back down, positioning them just so.
Your lips purse, fluttering as you bite them to hold back your words, treading along the rules of this game as best you can. For now.
“I can see you wish to speak,” he arches one brow, “you may, until I finally sneak my little way in to start fucking you…”
He moves quickly, crawling over your body, and all you can do is pant his name, pleading with him in incoherent syllables. “A-astar-ion, p-please…”
Too late. He sheathes himself to the root in one thrust. “Ah ah,” he chides to cover you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders. “Now, busy your pretty, little mouth by kissing mine, and just let me fuck you, understood?”
You tremble under those eyes, your walls stretching as he already presses against the end of your channel.
“You may… nod, my love,” he taunts, a wicked tone of delight in that honeyed throat of his. You obey. “You may also touch me, your hands on my back, but nothing too rough, darling. This is about us, and our pleasure. Now… play nice, dear.” His words rush on his breath between your lips, and then he consumes you, tastes you, the mix of his blood and your slick still both on your tongue. You feel him licking it from you, making him thrust that cool, long cock all the deeper. A growl of satisfaction vibrates from his throat as he savors your mix of flavors. All his favorite things. Achingly slowly, he moves inside, dragging his length so you feel the ridge of his head, the threads of its veins, tug against your walls. Working in and out, you feel his hands behind your neck and shoulders, angling your mouth to just the perfect place for him to plunder it.
Then, his knees do the same, first one urges your left knee, taking you apart even as he keeps his slow and languorous thrusts. The other moves into place to do the same. His long legs press yours, opening you, spreading you, until he can go no deeper. His laugh, low and rumbling, tickles inside your mouth. Then, he fucks. Hard and demanding, swivels of his hips make certain he grazes his cock over that sweet, secret spot inside you. You lose yourself, the rhythm of his thrusts filling you with instant, incessant waves of pleasure.
You missed this. The games, the power plays, the wit and banter, biting with words and fangs. Now, he delves into you with abandon, no more games, no more dominance. In this moment, as he steals your breath and fucks you into the dirt, he is your rogue.
Your hands press into his ass, feeling the ripples of his muscles as he moves within you. The intoxicating beat of clench after clench, his voice growling his pleasure at your attentions. “That’s it, darling, feel how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you… my darling… my consort…” Your hands run over the scars of his back, tracing over the shadows of his past. “That’s it,” he breathes, “I’ll allow you to…”
You smile, cutting off his words, claiming your chance to take the upper hand in the game. Knees raise to press into the hard surface of his stomach, rolling him quickly over on his back at last. “My turn,” you give a laugh, low and throaty like his. “You’ve allowed it, my love.”
“I wasn’t finished,” he snarls quietly, but you wriggle your hips, his cock still firmly sunk inside you, as you press a finger against his lips.
“Shh…” you cajole him, running your finger to trace those fleshy, arrogant, smirking lips. “You’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn, and I will not be called consort…”
“You prefer spawn…?” He taunts his hands running up your thighs, clawing into your hips. Still so reverent in his touch, even as his words throw barbs to get a rise from you.
You take the bait, splaying a hand on his chest, so hard, so pale, pushing him down as your cant your hips over his length. “Not merely consort… queen.”
“Hmmmm yes,” he purrs, flashing a smirk so twisted the starlight shines on his teeth brilliantly. “Oh… I do like the sound of that.”
Slowly you ride him, back and forth, bucking to keep his cock rolling inside you, his hands gripping at your hips. He steadies you, pushes you, thrusts up into you as your hips sink back to almost slap against his thighs. “Say it,” you pant.
“My darling…” he rasps, his breath grating in his throat as he groans with each slam of your cunt over his length.
“Not just that,” you crash back against him with a punishing force. “Not only that anymore…”
“My darling… queen,” he moans, gravel darkening his words, even as his eyes glow up at you, crimson and wonderous.
He is both things all at once, your rogue and your master, your lover in the dirt and on his throne. And as you begin to feel the final throes of your climax, hearing him grunting with each thrust, you lean down, baring your neck for his fangs one more time. He needs no further invitation or consent, the slice of his teeth into your skin pushes you over that final edge. You spasm, trembling, locked onto his lap as he thrusts up into you, mouth at your neck, cock buried deep. He hitches beneath you, face pressing against your neck as he grins in pleasure so intense, it hurts. You feel him pulsing inside you, seed spewing deep inside you adding to the slick between your thighs. You struggle to breathe, collapsed on his chest as you are now. His mouth still takes lazy sucks of your blood, even between his own gasps to catch his breath.
“That’s what I love about you,” he speaks softly, lips brushing your pointed ear. “My good girl, so eager to take the future by the balls, without losing what was the best of me before…”
“Mmm,” you breathe as you turn your head, nestling your forehead against the sharp edge of his jaw. “You can claim the world, but from time to time, you will need to fuck me in the dirt. Keep yourself… grounded.”
“Ha!” he giggles, bursting in hilarious ripples from his mouth as his arms wrap to cradle you tightly. “You sweet thing,” he purrs in silken tones again, “puns are still not beneath you, even as my... conso— as my queen. “Now ready yourself and brush off the dirt, round two in the lap of luxury I think.”
He lifts you effortlessly, pulling you by your hands back towards the palace doors, but now there is a lightness to his step, the grit of dust clinging to both your backs. You follow him in, even as he laughs and tugs you after him. Your rogue, your lord, your lover.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Continue to feed your hunger….
Part 2: “Cleanse me”
Part 3: “Surprise me”
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agavekitten · 4 months
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Summary - You're Abby's Favorite Daycare Attendent!
Pairing - Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader
Warnings- All fluff!
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Every day felt the same, gray, uncomfortable and cold. Nothing seemed to bring the warmth like it used to. Even getting out of bed feels like a chore. I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room around me. The soft blankets coddled around me were the only things keeping me from feeling the light cold air around me. I could only let out a sigh as I thought about the day ahead of me. The same old same old, wake up, work, clean then sleep. Over and over again until I could feel nothing. 
Today was one of those days, where I felt nothing. I didn't even notice that I got out of bed and had already gotten dressed. It was like a blur, like everything around me is simply a picture and none of it is real. It’s almost nice to think of it like that - a picture. It makes the things around you more interesting, a painting can be anything you interpret it as. It can be beautiful with every stroke of the paint having meaning and purpose. Or, there is the other interpretation, the one that makes the world look sad and unappealing with bland colors and concepts. But, I didn't like to think of it that way. If I'm going to live in my own fantasy world and believe that the world is a painting, it's going to be a happy colorful one damn it. 
I stepped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom, god I looked terrible. My hair looked like a bird just laid eggs in it and my face was swollen from the night's rest. I’ve always been hypocritical about how I looked, but today it was just a joke. Did my look matter that much? Not really in the grand scheme of things but to me it was important. I work at a daycare and the thought of a parent thinking I looked like a bum on the street and questioning if I had good hygiene made me want to throw up. I spent the first hour and a half trying to make myself look better. I finally felt like a person again as I put my hair up. I gave myself a small smile in the mirror and it immediately fell.
*buzz buzz* 
I looked down at my phone and saw the time, shit. I was late to work, again. I never woke up early to get ready and make myself feel like a person again. Now that I think about it, that's a bit of a problem. I went to the front door and grabbed my bag then rushed out the door. My job was the one thing that I really truly loved. Seeing the kids' faces light up when I enter the room and rush over to me to ask to play with them was always a highlight. It made me feel like my life did have purpose. All these kids relied on me while their parents worked or had a day to themselves, I’ve even become quite attached to a few of them. There was one kid that I look forward to seeing everyday, her name was Abby. She always had a smile on her face when she saw me grabbing my shirt practically begging if we could draw together. I would always spend most of my time drawing and playing games with her while the other daycare attendants played with the other kids. Abby didn't have a lot of friends and besides with you, she was often really quiet. I smiled at the thought of seeing Abby today. She should already be there by the time I walk through the daycare door. 
And just as I suspected, when I came through the door, there she was. A big smile on her face, her hair curled slightly and she had on a pair of cute overalls. “Hey Abbs!” I gave her a soft smile and opened my arms. She came running over and gave me a huge squeeze. “I thought you weren't going to be here today, I got sad.” Abby said, looking up at me with her large doe eyes. I moved my hand to her head, messing up her hair a bit. “You know I don't miss a day kiddo.” She giggled in response, “come draw with me Y/N! I've been waiting all morning! I have an amazing idea of what kind of cats we can draw today” Abby dragged you over to the table with all the art supplies spewed about. That was Abby and I’s thing, drawing cats in different scenarios. You know pirate cats, president cats, the whole works. “What were you thinking?” I sat next to her and smiled. She made a small drumroll on the table with her fingers. “....zombie cats.” We both went silent as we looked at eachother then let out a small giggle. “Zombie cats it is then.” We spent that afternoon drawing zombie cats in different scenarios, zombie cats in the grocery store, getting hair cuts, driving cars and my personal favorite two zombie cats that were dressed like Abby and I. 
“Y/N?” Abby put her green crayon down. 
“Yes Abby?”
“You should meet my brother, he would like you.” Abby had the most serious look on her face and I giggled. “Really? Now why's that?” 
“Well I like you and you're my friend so why wouldn't he like you.” She picked her crayon back up and continued to draw, “he likes all my friends.”
 “He seems like a very nice Abby, I would love to meet him.” I gave her a soft smile.
“Abby?”
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This is my first fanfic so please be gentle….
yes there will be a part 2!!!
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snoopyblankie · 2 months
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LI’L PUP’S “DAYCARE” / “SCHOOL” ROUTINE !
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Okay, so in a few posts, I mentioned that if you don’t have a CG, have a hard time with routine, have a hard time meeting certain daily tasks, etc., then it can help to make a sorta daycare/school routine (which would involve getting ready for the day, exercise, recreation, meal breaks, etc)!
Of course, the “daycare”/“school” aspect to it is all up to you ! Routines can have some variation, and if you’re having a little day or your routine seems to be difficult because of sudden regression, then this is more tailored towards that !! (It’s also a li’l more geared towards the 4-5 age range, but don’t let that dissuade you!)
Me personally, if I’m havin’ a rough time, I might feel a sorta lingering regression throughout my day which I’ve been feeling lately. I don’t want it to interfere when I have to be big, though, so this is also a good way to manage big tasks and little wants!!
The routine can start like this !
Getting Ready For The Day: You gotta make sure you’re ready to take on the day! Wake up at a decent time (what works for your schedule) and try to do each of the following!
Make your bed
Drink some water
Brush your teeth/hair
Go to the bathroom (even if you’re not sure you need to! It can’t hurt to try!)
Wash your face or splash it with a little water
Get dressed (It helps to lay out your clothes the night before if you can !) (don’t forget new underwear and socks !)
Have some breakfast
School Time: These you can rearrange the order of, but I recommend keeping lunch/recess/nap in a somewhat similar place (ex. not having recess first) unless you really gotta! These are just suggestions after all and you know yourself best !
Welcome to the Day: Make a list of the Big Things you might need to do that day (tidy up, laundry, work/homework, etc) so you can sprinkle them in throughout the day or work around them! You can write this out by hand as a little goal chart—this is how we are greeting the day! You can write your name and date on it, use fun pens, make it a little sticker chart, whatever you’d like! This is just a way to keep track of the things you’ve gotta do. This is also a time to Get Grounded; make a separate list of three things that have made you happy/went well/or that you look forward to this morning! Even if it’s a hard day, it helps to try and find the littlest things (like you!) that make your day a little better (ex. “The weather is nice right now,” “I made my bed,” “I changed into different pajamas,” “I’m going to the park later,” etc!)
Reading: Set aside around 20-30 minutes (or more! I’d say about an hour max for now) to get comfy in a fun chair, on the floor, wherever, grab a book (or a couple if they’re shorter,) and get reading! No need to take notes unless you wanna, and if you really wanna make it more school-like, you can read the books out loud to some stuffed animals (just make sure you’re reading ‘em, not just saying ‘em) or write down the books you read in a reading log! At the end of the month it could be fun to look back and see what you’ve read!
Music: This was always my favorite subject (well, one of them)! Again, set aside around 30 minutes, and have some music fun! Listen to your favorite artists, learn some chords on guitar, practice keyboard/piano, whatever you’d like! Write a song and play it for your stuffed animals! Come up with a cartoon theme song, or music for a video game!
Work Time: Set aside around 30-60 minutes to do some work! If you have school work, you can chip away at that. If you don’t, you can use this time to do some of your big tasks (start a load of laundry, wash some dishes, etc) and, with whatever remaining time, maybe find some things to stimulate your brain! Word puzzles, math problems, researching a subject you like—anything!
Recess: Set a timer for 30 minutes and go have fun! This depends on the weather, naturally, but it’s free time! If you can get outside, go for it! Enjoy the sun (or snow,) lay/sit in the grass, take a pet for a walk or just go for one yourself/with a friend, run around if you can! If there’s a park nearby, that could be fun! Or if you have outdoor toys (ball, hula hoop, chalk, etc) you can use those! Even just reading or drawing outside is nice to get the fresh air. If you can’t get outside, do some indoor fun! Try and stay off of screens, but you don’t have to (you could find some fun kids games on the computer,) and play inside! Play with your stuffed animals, whatever toys you may have, color, anything your heart desires! Maybe you just want 30 minutes to meditate wherever you are, go for it. Just stay safe, and keep stuff handy in case you get too excited playing!
Lunch Time: This can be 30 minutes to 60, however long you feel you need to make/have lunch and settle down afterwards! It’s not helpful to rush during a meal, which I know sometimes folks struggle with (me too,) so this is the time to slow down. You’ve had a busy day so far, you gotta make sure you’ve got energy to last you a while longer! Try incorporating fun stuff into lunch if it’s daunting; fun shapes, a color scheme, a theme overall, etc. Have a stuffed animal have lunch with you if you wanna (just don’t feed ‘em your food, they like their own!)
Art: We don’t wanna get right into anything too exhaustive after lunch, what better idea than to create? Set aside 30 minutes to do something creative! Paint, color, draw, use clay, make bracelets, make a fun craft, whatever you can think of. There’s loads of posts about agere craft ideas, and plenty of kids’ art ideas on Pinterest and in books—check those out for some ideas! Remember, you’re not making things to be the best, you’re making things to make them!
Writing: For 20 minutes, it’s time to write! Assess how your day’s going—if anything’s changed from the morning, what fun stuff you might’ve done, etc. Maybe you just wanna write a silly story, or you have one that you’re already working on, go ahead and work on it! If you’re feeling particularly little, those handwriting workbooks are very fun!
Gym: For 30 minutes, we’re gonna get our bodies moving! This is all dependent on your mobility levels, so I won’t get toooo specific here (I will in other posts)! Clear some space in your living room, a rec room, however much space you need, and get your blood moving. This can be things like yoga or simple stretches (which have lots of seated options,) Pilates, or a full-out routine! It’s important to get your body moving as best you can, it keeps your heart healthy and can help if you’ve got low energy (I can confirm)!
Quiet Corner: Now we really step away from the screens. For 20-30 minutes (minimum, if you can do longer go for it,) turn off your phone, the TV, the computer, and try to relax. This is another good time to journal, to meditate, or even take a nap if you feel like your body needs it (try not to take too long a nap though, keep that to 12-30 minutes so you don’t mess up sleeping later). This can just be any quiet activity that is more hands-on to help keep you grounded. I like to read in the little corner in my room, or to play with my sensory bin! (This is also a good time to bust out the “clean up” song and maybe tidy up stuff as you start wrapping up).
Goodbyes: The day isn’t over yet, especially if you’ve gotta work closing or have late classes, but the school routine is sorta wrapping up. Grab your journal yet again, and write down something about the day that you’ve enjoyed, something you’d want to do tomorrow, or maybe something you wanna do later in the day! This is also a good time to clean up as needed, as you say “goodbye” to the more organized schedule and carry on with your day!
Dismissal: The “daycare”/“school” day may be done, but the day isn’t over yet! Have another check in and see what tasks you’ve still gotta do for the day. It’s a good time to get crackin’ on those so your evening can be more restful!
If you have work/class that interrupts your schedule, just try and pick up where you left off (unless you’re gettin’ home real late—adjust as necessary). Once you’re done with all your tasks for the day (it’s okay if you can’t do ‘em all,) it’s time to settle down, have some dinner, have a nice bath, and get ready for bed however you’d like!
This routine is great because of how flexible it can be; don’t wanna do gym every day? That’s fine! Switch out gym for science (go outside and collect some rocks or fallen plants, look ‘em up, watch some Bill Nye)! Don’t wanna do writing that day? Okay! How about history? Brain Pop is great for all sorts of subjects, and it’s a good way to try finding some new books!
This is a VERY long post, and it’s all just suggestions, but I hope some folks find it helpful (I love detailed posts like this personally ^w^). I might make some more as far as routines go (morning/night routines, different daily routines, etc) but I will definitely be making follow-up posts to this one with links and resources for every subject (as I find them!)
Have a great day !!!!!!!!! You’ve got this !!!!!!
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undercoverpena · 9 months
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iv. before the gold and glimmer
javier peña x f!reader | chapter four of late night texts
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summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: i adore each of you who are coming along this weird and wonderful journey, we're getting closer, i promise. wordcount: 2.5k.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
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I’ll be home in an hour.
I’ll be ready 
Are we going to do the crossword tonight or are you going to spend an hour flirting?
too early to comment
I’m bringing my A game. 
to flirt with me? baby you flatter me 
No. Crosswords, you fucking flirt.
hermosa did you just swear at me 
I did. Now I have to concentrate, stop distracting me. 
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Javi is aware that his pop is thinking things. 
Has been since the phone conversations began. The ones initially having slotted in when the house was empty. Quiet. Just him and his thoughts banging around, occasionally punctured by him pressing the keys on his phone until the phone rang.
Now, the phone calls have bled out into quick chats on other nights (Javi’s hand over his mouth, trying to muffle a laugh). He’s caught sight of his pop’s smirk more than once.
He’s very aware that he hasn’t helped things by dropping your name into conversations.
Accidentally, at first.
Then just accepting his fate and embracing it. Talking about you as if you’re this fully fleshed thing in front of him—mentioning the news thing you’d heard, something funny you’d said. 
He even mentioned you to Murphy. Again, not on purpose. 
Steve was quick. Picking up on it immediately in their latest monthly catch-up where usually Javi listens to how amazing, disruptive and yet tiring kids are—how Miami would be good for him, and that Connie misses him. This time it segwayed suddenly into, and who might she be then, Jav? 
It had crossed his mind to play it down. To conceal you—because a part of him suspects he should hate all of it.
Before, he had always preferred secrecy. Kept the women he had been seeing behind lock and key. Partially due to the nature, the risk—now, though, he thinks he just doesn’t want to share. 
Doesn’t want to taint it. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, his slice of happiness that no one can dull.
It also aids in holding himself back from falling over the cliff, tumbling into ruin because he let himself get ahead of himself. 
Feel too much, too quick, because Javi didn’t even know what you looked like. Hadn’t eyed you up across a bar, hadn’t spotted you in the aisle of the store.
You’d stumbled into his life.
No reason, no real cause or explanation, and now he’s not entirely sure as to why he feels the amount he does. That he cares, that he likes you. How that when he talks to you, he feels only happy, content and joy—like he could do and be anything.
You provide the key to the semblance of normalcy he’s been longing for. Liking what others would think is mundane, like about your day. Now he longs for it all face to face, where he can read your face instead of dissecting your voice. 
She’s just someone I’ve been talking to. Don’t—don’t even know her, really.  You knew all the others well before? Fuck off, Murphy.  Just sayin’, sometimes, shit just don’t make sense, Jav. 
Steve says it as though it answers all his problems. 
Like he thinks the words will make all the pieces click into place, suddenly cemented and real—all understood and no longer complex. 
But it’s all still very much messy—a tangling of feelings that ready exist and more which threaten to come.
In truth, he doesn’t mind the complications of it all. He just thinks it’s best to protest it a little. Pretend he hasn’t abandoned all logic just because someone made him smile and feel a little less broken.
Because he knew, just like those around him, that he was done for. 
It all perfectly evidenced by the fact he doesn’t mind when his pop begins giving him one of those smirks more often than not—the ones surrounded by wiry white hair, partnered with a knowing look on his face. The same conversation circling, the one that’s been going on for days now—
“When the two of you meeting?”  “I don’t know, pop.”  “You made plans to see her yet?” “No, pop.”  “You should go see her. You need a break.” “Pop.” 
At some stage, his pop stops beginning it—challenging him. Now he just signals the words with a look. One he assumes parents are given when their child enters the world—the one that is part knowing and part ‘you know you’re going to do what I’m saying, anyway’.
Javi hates that more than he hates the rest of the situation. 
Because his pop isn’t wrong. He wants to see you, watch your expressions instead of imagining them. 
Not just to see what you look like, but so that he can see how you react when he says certain things. Whether you scrunch your nose or your lips curl before you smile; whether you hide your face when he embarrasses you, or whether you fold your arms and pout. 
Each time the two of you text or call, he thinks it—wants to bring it up and ask.
A need in him growing, in the same way his feelings do. Multiplying, quivering in his bones when you laugh, and it travels straight to his heart—making it swell and bloom. Filling the expanse of his chest until he isn’t sure he can feel any more happiness. 
Picking up the phone on the first ring, he hears your usual chirpy hey, which he follows with his now usual: “Hey baby.” 
“¿Cómo estás, Javi?”
“Ay, you’ve been practising.” 
Hearing you laugh makes him smile. Unknots the stresses of the day from him as he pulls the chair over—sitting on it as his head rests against the wall. 
“I purchased a Spanish for kids book, so that’s my skill level.” 
Smirking, he rolls his lips. “You trying for me?” 
“Sí.”
Snorting, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan linda, querida.” 
“I know the last word means darling.” 
“I said you are very cute.” 
You pause, a shuffling sound coming from your side of the phone before the softest of sighs. “You’re making me blush, again.” 
“You make it too easy.” 
“Stop,” you say, all fake warning and all likely accompanied by a cute smile, “How’s your day been—tell me you got a splinter in your ass?” 
Smirking, he slumps further into the chair, legs spread, spare hand resting on his thigh. “Starting to think you only talk to me for my body.”
The laugh you let out is closer to a howl, and his cheeks hurt from hearing it—his grin so large, it doesn’t fade for hours. 
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apprehensive feeling, 5 
Come on, Javi. 
I think it may be angst 
If I were there I’d kiss your cheek. 
I know you mean that in a nice way but it feels demeaning 
Oh no I meant it as the latter. 
is that how we’re being
You tell me. 
paris divider, 5 
Seine. You ever been to Paris?
no have you 
Not yet. 
not yet? 
Well there’s always time. Heard it’s a romantic place to go.
maybe if you were nicer someone would take you 
You make a good point. 
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things go ok this morning
Not like I wanted but not the worst. I can apply but they’re playing the experience card again. 
bullshit, you ok
I will be. Thank you for checking in on me. 
you can tell me if youre not yknow
I just need to destress is all. It’s like talking to a fucking wall sometimes.
fuck I love it when you swear 
Javi, stop. 
do you really want me to 
No. But you’re making my face burn. 
bet you look real pretty getting embarrassed 
I actually do not, so you should stop so you don’t inflict the face on others. 
I don’t believe you
Maybe one day you’ll see it for yourself so you can believe me 
wish one day was today 
Why would you destress me? 
baby I’d make sure you couldn’t even think the word stress never mind feel it 
You confident in that? 
youll have to find out
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Something was different in the air the moment he woke up. 
Things went far easier than they normally would. No one tried to bowl him over during feeding. The fence he went to check on didn’t look all that bad—and there wasn’t even a queue when he visited the homeware store for pop. 
There also wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky.
And it put him on edge. 
His gut—the one he had relied on to take down the narcos—flared back to life. It could be a good day, a once-in-a-blue moon, a blessing in a sea of disguise. 
But rationality didn’t stop him from checking over his shoulder, do a final sweep of the land. 
It had been like that when he’d first gotten back. All on edge, finding it difficult to settle. He had smoked back then, worse than he had done when he’d been over in Colombia. It’s why he’d chosen to quit.
Now, he rotated the phone between his finger and thumb, feeling it vibrate against his palm, checking if it was you before he allows the smile—the one you pull from him by just texting him—blossom. 
So I have good news and I have bad news lead with the bad first I can’t call you on Thursday night
His heart drops, plummets. 
A part of him knew something bad was around the corner. Taking in your text, over and over. Checking he understood it as he climbed the stairs up the porch. 
Javi rolls his head on his neck, staring up—the flies around the porch light buzzing away as he tries to compose himself. 
Somehow always knowing that deep down, this day would come. His mind is too quick to act, abruptly busy with conjuring thoughts. That old analytical part of him whirs back to life as it tries to make heads or tails of the situation in front of him, as though it was a case.
Because he suspects that your good news is that you have a date—someone you’ve seen face to face and has swept you off your feet. A person who will take you away from him because he can’t offer you that.
Plus, you don’t even know him.
Not really. 
He’s just this person you text. 
This person he feels…
well fuck. The good news best be the best news ever I think it is. Don’t tease me, querida Says you, baby.
Baby?
It takes him a second. 
The four letters blowing all the conjured theories well and truly out of the water. 
His eyes trace over the letters, even after he’s sent the reply. Javi’s heart suddenly in his throat, pulse in his ear—the blood banging around. 
Shut up. Anyway I can’t call you because I’ll be on an early flight in the morning to Houston. Work needs me to check out some odd sales. You’ll be in Texas? Yeah. So the good news is, if you meant what you said, we could meet in person.
He swallows, spine straightening—posture suddenly pristine, making the muscles in his back ache from the day as they flex and tighten under his shirt. 
You want to meet him. 
Or he thinks. 
Not wanting to read between the lines—needing the confirmation, to hear you say it. His shirt begins to cling to his back, hair falling over his forehead as sweat grows, strands of hair being grasped against his skin.
You want to meet me? Of course, I’m the one suggesting it. But if you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, I’ll begin judging how lonely you actually are if you don’t. But it’s fine.
His thumbs aren’t quick enough. 
Each text firing in—and he wishes, more than he usually does, that he could be there with you. Clutch your cheek, assure you, make you breathe—
baby breathe. I want to meet you, I do But? but nothing
Even if there is. 
There seems like there’s a but
Javi doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. 
Somehow, miles away—you can already read him. Know him. His thumb massaging his nose, wrist hiding his smile from the world. 
I’m nervous about the fact you could see me and never want to speak to me again You think I’m that shallow? No. It’s just you’ve been the best thing about my day in a long, long time, querida Call me. it’s late isn’t it Javi. 
He moves, the chair he had been on almost toppling over as he opens the storm door and then the next. Moving into the kitchen, not even needing to pull your number up. He knows it. 
It’s burned into him. 
The receiver meets his ear as you answer in record time as your voice greets his ears. Followed by a sigh when he greets you in a low-whisper.
“Javi, I feel the same.” 
He swallows. “Yeah?” 
Silence greets him before you do a soft laugh. That little one he’s begun noticing you do when you later tell him you’ve just nodded or shrugged—forgetting he can’t see down the phone. 
“I wanted you to call so you could hear it. That I want to meet you because I can’t stop thinking about you. And that might be insane, and odd. But… I like you. I feel things.” 
“I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against the wall—eyes closing, hand tightening around the phone. “I like you, too.” 
Javi hears it. The discernible way you relax. 
It comes across in the way you take a breath, in the way he suddenly feels his own shoulders slide from his ears. 
“But if it’s too soon, I can use some time off—“
“No, cariño. No. I… I want to. I’ll be there.” 
You swallow—loud in the silence. Almost clunky. “I’m scared too.” 
Opening his eyes, he stares at the peeling paint. Something running over him, from his head to his feet. It whispers to relax, to breathe—allowing him fully to do both. 
“You could… I don’t know, see me and find I don’t match the image of me you’ve created. Or, find me horribly boring. Or that I’m actually the strangest person. It’s scary. I’m scared too.” 
He nods, smiling to himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”
“You don’t have to—“
“Baby.” It silences you, and the thought makes him smile. “I’ll pick you up from the airport, okay?”
It takes a beat. 
A full ten seconds. 
“We’re going to meet,” you say softly, almost wistfully. 
And it cracks then, a smile. A real one. His usual one. Turning on the spot, pressing his back against the wall, head meeting it as he lets the grin spread into his cheeks, almost to his eyes if his thumb and finger didn’t begin rubbing them. 
“We’re gonna meet,” he replies.
Opening his eyes, seeing the noticeable flicker of the television—its shimmering light flittering through the doorway, illuminating his pop, who is standing smiling at him. 
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AN: remember, if you wish to see the deleted 18+ scene for the birthday bash, be sure to check back on 8th of July, otherwise see you next Tuesday 
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arielburrow · 3 months
Text
So It Goes
Your relationship with Joe seems to be a flame that was never put out.
“I just don’t see how this is ever going to work.” You struggle to get the words out through your sobs. Your hands cupped your face as you sat at the edge of your boyfriend's bed, his figure sulking above. “We keep telling ourselves we can push through but Joe we are miserable, and we aren’t anywhere near the end. You're going to Cincinnati in less than a month and I’m working out of Miami for at least the next three years!” Your cries become heavier as you feel his weight beside you as his head falls to your shoulder. You hear his silent cries as well.
“Your right…I hate it, but your right,” he mumbles into your shoulder. You pull him closer to you, grasping the fact that your relationship was inevitably at the end. “I mean really Joe, before I flew out here we shared what? Five texts in the last month? I barely made it to three games this season,” You whisper towards him. “I know, I know but baby you have to understand it won’t always be like that…just right now life is a whirlwind, and I just have to figure some things out but then-”
“Joey,” you cut him off. “You’ve been saying that for two years now…I mean i’ve accepted at this point your entire life is a whirlwind and I just don’t seem to fit into it.” You lift your head and stare blankly out of the window of his apartment. Thinking back to the first day you stepped foot in here and how optimistic you both were for the success of your long-distance relationship. You and Joe had been dating for two years back in Ohio and you’d be lying if you said those weren’t the best two years of your life. It started with innocent study sessions that eventually led to late-night conversations lying next to each other on his rickety dorm mattress. Before you knew it, he swept you off your feet and showed you what love really was. You remember the tears you wept when he first told you he decided on LSU. He immediately embraced you and you promised him they were “happy” tears and you were just so “excited” for his future. That being undoubtedly true, you never imagined how much Joe's life would change in the upcoming years, and how little you would be a part of it.
“y/n…I’m willing to wait, I promise you I don't care how much longer we’re apart for I’ll wait for the days when I get to wake up to you every morning.” he seemingly pleads as his head rises off your shoulder and you both meet each other's eyes. “Joe I am so beyond proud of everything this year has brought you and everything the next years are going to bring you. But, honey you know as well as I do that we are not the same people we were two year ago unpacking in this very apartment. Joe this is not a bad thing i need you to hear me, it’s just not healthy for either of us to keep dragging on a relationship that is fighting to keep its head above water.” You grab his hand and hold it close to you before you reluctantly stand and head for the door, tears streaming down your face as you reach for the handle.
“y/n…it’ll always be you, I promise even if we never see each other again, we both know deep down we were always meant for each other.”
That was four years ago
and as you stood in the mirror applying final touches to your face, it finally hit you. That gut feeling that you’ve had since you opened the invite but couldn’t quite put your finger on.
He’s going to be there.
There was no doubt about it. Sam was one of his best friends and it was the middle of the off-season. Hell he might even be in the wedding you think to yourself as you notice your face turn in the mirror. You both had lived about a million lives since you last saw each other which you know to be a fact due to your “surprising interest” in football whenever the Bengals were playing as your brother would joke. It was unintentional snooping on a life you swore you were putting an end to as soon as you got back to Florida. Of course your life carried on, you started dating again and made a great group of friends. But no matter what every Sunday you found yourself sat watching Joe through his brutal knee injury, Super bowl attempt, and current list of nagging injuries. Every now and then your mom would mention him over the phone but you were always quick to dismiss him, refusing to admit you still kept an eye on him. Besides the pit in your stomach, you were excited to watch your friend Sam marry his childhood best friend Ava and see all your friends you hadn’t gotten a chance to catch up with since moving back to the Ohio area. You moved back a couple of months ago, finding peace working with a new company that promised a more stationary enviorment for you. It was nice to be closer to family and friends and although it wasn’t considered Ohio, Covington was just under two miles from Cincinnati.
“Have you seen the gold hoops i laid out? I cant find them,” rachel comes into the room in a search. She was your best friend and you were so excited to be staying with her for the weekend, given she lived in down town cincy where the wedding was taking place. “here.” You hand her the earrings as she smiles.
“you look extra good,” she smirks bouncing your curls and flatting your dress once more. You roll your eyes knowing where she was going with this. “C'mon y/n, it’s been like a year since you’ve gotten laid, I just know tonight’s the night.” she laughs as she puts on her heels. “Your terrible, I’m not going to this wedding to get some, I’m going to celebrate our friends and-”
“you know he’s in the wedding right? I just wanted to warn you, Sam said he’s his best man,” she says looking up with a sympathetic smile. You sigh, “that’s good for him, glad him and Sam are still just as close.” You smile trying to brush off the conversation.
Arriving at the venue, you took in how beautifully decorated it was. White roses lined the entire isle and fairy lights were strung from each end of the ceiling. You and Rachel greeted familiar faces as you found your seats. You chatted for a bit with others, greeting both Sam and Ava’s parents. Soon after, silence fell as piano chords began to play and heads turned towards the double doors as they began to open. You watched as the party made its way down the aisle, some new faces, but for the most part, you recognized everyone.
Finally, you spotted him. His dirty blonde locks grown out long, framing his face in a way that brought out his features like no other. His frame was just as tall, just much more muscular in comparison to when you last saw him. He made his way down the aisle, arms locked with a pretty blonde with blue eyes. They walked with a sort of synchronicity, capturing every eye in the room even more than before. You couldn’t help but let out a smile at the fact that his eyes remained glued in-front of him, he seemed nervous. You felt Rachel poke your stomach, making you giggle a little. You hated to admit it, but he looked good, so good.
Finally Ava entered as everyone rose, she was such a beautiful bride and watching Sam’s reaction almost brought tears to your eyes. They looked so happy to be taking this step together and it pulled at your heartstrings knowing how far you still were from this step.
The ceremony started as you kept and eye on Joe, he still seemed to be in a trance just watching Sam, not taking note of the crowd. When they finally kissed, everyone stood in applause. You smiled as you scanned your eyes down the groomsmen once more, only to be stopped by a pair of blue eyes locked directly at you. You felt frozen for a moment, but forced yourself to let out a small smile, only met with a continuous face of shock from Joe. You would have probably stood there forever, however a shove from Rachel got you moving with the rest of the row out to the reception area.
Once everyone made their way to the much more open space with even more white roses and lights, you finally had a second to breath and take in what just happened. Everyone found their designated seat once again and watched as the bride and groom made their big entrance and began to make their way around greeting everyone.
You looked up to the wedding party table and immediately spotted him.
Well, not only him.
The same blonde you had assumed was only Ava’s maid of honor had her head rested on Joe’s shoulder and a hand on his chest. You took in her entire appearance. She was undoubtedly gorgeous and very petite compared to your taller figure. As your eyes scanned up you were met in a deadlock with Joe's eyes once again. His face was expressionless, but nonetheless, he had caught you in some sort of trance once again. Only shaking out of it when you heard Ava and Sam approaching your table. You greeted the two and chatted with them for a few minutes, trying to bury a growing feeling inside your stomach.
Before food was served, speeches were started by both sets of parents. All of them were beautifully worded and carefully thought out to honor the couple. As Joe stood to say his, you latched on to every word, secretly admiring the sincerity he had for his best friend. He kept it short but sweet, and of course, claps seemed a little louder after his. Finally, you watched as the blonde stood, introducing herself as Stephanie, she went on about her best friend Ava and you subconsciously tuned her out. You were brought back when Joe’s name was mentioned, specifically how, “thankful” she was for Sam bringing such a “special man” into her life. She smiled looking down at him and placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked up to her with a small smile. You couldn’t tell if you were more shocked at her words or the twisting in your stomach because of her words. The adoring coos from the audience didn’t help the feeling, and neither did the few glances you picked up from individuals who knew well of your past with Joe.
As the reception continued, the dance floor got more crowded and the music got louder as the night continued. Your mind was in a different place than it was an hour ago, you were actually enjoying dancing with your friends and catching up with people you hadn’t seen in years. “You want a drink?” you loudly ask Rachel over the music as she dances next to you. “No thanks! Still working on this one!” she shows you her drink and you nod, letting her know you’d be at the bar. You hopped up on a barstool greeting the bartender with a smile as you rattled off your order. Turning away only for a second to look at the dance floor, you were startled when you turned back, noticing who had joined you.
“vodka soda please.” Joe orders from the man and slowly turns his head towards you with a smile. You can’t help but giggle a little. “How are you still drinking the same thing from college? Some things really never change I guess.” You raise your eyebrows as you take a sip from your drink. “Hello to you too.” He sarcastically replies making you both smile a little. “I honestly had no idea you were going to be here, I mean i can’t believe Sam didn’t mention it,” he states. “Yeah well it was great timing, I moved to the Covington area a few months ago so I was excited to come see everyone again,” you reply trying to make casual conversation. “Wow…I had no idea you were back, I mean i’m just really surprised to see you after all this time.” His eyes softened a bit and you could’ve sworn he had gotten closer. “You look really great, y/n” his words are quieter and you swear you see a shift in his eyes. You blush a bit at his words and fail to hide it. “Thank you, so do you. How have you been doing?” you reply trying to change the path of the conversation. “I’m alright, just making it through the off-season right now after such a shitty season. Looking forward to some trips and stuff,” he reply’s with a shrug. “That’s nice, I’m glad you let yourself relax a little,” You give him a genuine smile. Your eyes both lingered on each other a little too long, leaving you both in a blushed giggle. “So are you still working the same job,” he questions. “No, I mean technically yeah, but for a different company. I wasn’t happy anymore and felt like I couldn’t move up at all. Now I can stay here and feel a lot more productive with what I’m actually doing.” you stop yourself from going on not wanting to bombard him with a vent. “That’s nice you can stay in one place now, wish it could’ve been like that a couple years ago.” He laughs to himself but immediately regrets his word choice seeing your reaction. You felt a ping of guilt. He was right, things would be so different if you hadn’t uprooted your whole life for a job you wouldn’t even end up settling on. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” His hand inched toward yours but he stopped himself, seeming to be fighting an internal conflict. “It’s okay” you give him a reassuring smile.
You two continue to catch up and throw back a couple more drinks which you couldn’t even deny you were heavily feeling. You both watched the movement on the dance floor and your eyes fell on Stephanie who you had caught suspiciously watching Joe a few times throughout the night. Your mind honestly no longer had a say in what your words were. “So…” you press on “Stephanie seems nice!” You say with a clearly high octave in your voice making Joe laugh and shake his head. “Yeah..Yeah you know Sam introduced us, and we basically went on a double date and all and you know, it’s all good.” He finishes off his drink and places it on the bar with a hint of aggression. You watch her make her way off the dance floor and towards you and Joe. She pulls him off the barstool, clearly ignoring you and drags him to dance. He was clearly just as drunk as you which you felt partially at fault for, but decided to go find Rachel. You searched around for a bit but couldn’t seem to find her anywhere. You noticed Stephanie taking a selfie with Joe from across the room which he seemed antsy to get away from. You figured maybe Rachel took a step outside so made your way to the lit-up back patio area. You felt a sharp breeze as you stepped outside, regretting not bringing a coat as you held your arms and began to walk in search of her. After a long walk around the venue, you felt less under the influence and took a deep breath before you were stopped in your tracks.
“you just seem to be everywhere tonight.” You Joke, causing Joe's head to turn from where he was leaning on the railing looking out towards the city. “You look absolutely freezing,” his eyebrows raise as you accept the spot next to him. “just a bit” you joke, not expecting what he does next. You feel his suit jacket rest over your shoulders and a feeling of warmth overcomes you, something greater than just the feeling of a jacket. You look up to him with a smile before looking back towards the city. You both stood there, in absolute silence, for what felt like an eternity. The sun was long set by now, and the city glowed as each building outlined its own unique story. Your eyes traced each one, you felt so in touch at this moment, probably partially due to the alcohol, and partially due to something much greater than that.
Joe was the first to break the silence. “y/n…I’m really glad I got to see you, I really thought I’d never see you again.” he admits keeping his eyes ahead. You take a deep breath before speaking. “Yeah me too Joe, i’m glad everything worked out for us you know? We both got what we wanted in the end.” You said trying to convince yourself your words held truth. Joe seemed happy and like he had it all, you on the other hand felt like a lost puppy. He lets out a breath as his head drops before he turns to you. “Are you happy?” he asks. You freeze at the question, such simple words left you so complexed. Your silence seemingly answers his question. “Y/n…I told you a long time ago how much you mean to me, I just want you to know that hasn’t changed.” You both turn to each other at his words. “Joe-” you start but he cuts you off.
“Just listen. You ended things a long time ago with us and I let you. But I shouldn’t have, I should’ve fought harder and you know, I guess I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, for not fighting harder.” he stares into your eyes in a way you knew all too well. A feeling you hadn’t felt in years crept back into your body as you felt yourself gravitate towards him. You feel him pick up your hand as he moves in. His other hand meets your chin as he lifts your head towards his.
Inches away,
You feel your nose graze his, and in a quick second, you are met with the only lips that have ever meant anything to you.
Part two here
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