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alottiegoingon · 4 months

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the last night

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: shauna comes back after 19 months in the wilderness

warnings: shauna and r had a situationship, very suggestive content but nothing explicit, wilderness time, mentions of mental illness (depression, anxiety), r cheating on her actual gf, manipulative shauna (?), angst but happy ending, not proofread

"i can't believe you're leaving me," you complain in a purposely whiny tone, your voice ringing in shauna's ears as you sit across from each other on the bed. she grips her familiar journal while you help her go through her checklist of essential items.

"i'm not leaving you. It's only a week," she murmurs, her head bowed over her journal, but her eyes lift to catch yours. a playful smile dances on her lips, secretly entertained by your antics.

shauna played as the midfielder for the yellowjackets, a girls' soccer team. their recent victory had secured them a spot in the nationals in seattle, and it was all she could talk about.

you were genuinely excited for her, but the thought of spending so much time apart made you anxious. it wasn’t a full week, technically, but you couldn’t help worrying about shauna meeting someone much cooler in a much cooler place.

"remember the last time?" shauna reminisces about her trip to denver five years ago, also for soccer. you were just middle schoolers then, and you were forced to make new friends while she was gone for days. "you found new friends," her voice crackled slightly.

"so we are friends now?" you say, your voice constricting. shauna doesn't look up but you hear her snort, contrasting with her muscles tensing up. the silence settles in and you don't wait any longer to fill it, not wanting to make things any weirder than they already were.

"anyway. it's just not the same now," shauna understood your words perfectly well, especially considering the kind of friendship you had. still, she questioned.

"why's that?" she inquires, her hands absently rubbing the pen against her journal as she finishes her list.

"you know why," three words of yours were responsible for the abrupt stop of her writing. shauna places the journal and pen aside, focusing on you.

"because no one is as cool as me?" she quips, a self-satisfied grin spreading across her lips.

"that's debatable," you retort, feigning skepticism as you mock her with a playful expression.

"you hurt my feelings like that," her false frown deepens as she leans in.

her hands move surreptitiously toward your legs, eventually landing in a gentle and not so innocent touch on your knees. inch by inch, she traces your skin with her fingertips until her full hands were on your thigs and crawling up to your waist.

"i'm so sorry," you try to keep yourself unbothered by her touch but she's smarter. her nose strokes your cheek, stopping to give your upper lip a messy kiss, and she kisses her way town to your neck.

brushing your hair out of the way along with the heart necklace, her teeth gently grazes on your skin.

"nuh-uh. this won't do," her hot breath into your skin makes you shiver. "i have a better idea."

𖠋

everyone remembers where they are when an upsetting event happens. the death of a celebrity, a natural disaster, a medical trauma. you remember, clear as water, where you were when you read the newspaper. walking back home.

it was all over the news. flight 2525, the private plane that lottie matthews' dad had chartered, had disappeared. the plane shauna was in. making everything worse, the news would often use the word 'crash' instead and you couldn't bare the idea.

soon enough, it hit you that the night before her trip was the last time you would ever see her again. the only thing more unbearable than that was the uncertainty; not knowing if shauna was still out there.

after a month of silence, you thought you had your answer.

people don't move on from things like that, not completely. especially if their best friend was envolved. spending your days in bed, skipping meals and not going to class became part of your new routine. you lost track of whether it was day or night, whether the sun was shining or not. your mind was consumed by her.

moving on or not, life goes on and the world doesn't slow down for anyone. after six months, normalcy had returned for most. apart from the parents and a handful of students, the yellowjackets had faded from people's memories, just like their plane. this pissed you off. you barely had time to grieve as the rest of the world rushed forward.

forcing yourself to merely exist, not truly live, you returned to class. like a ghost, you attracted curious glances and avoided them like the plague. after graduation, college was the next step.

a year later, shauna’s parents asked if you wanted anything from her room. something special, or perhaps just to visit. you were certain it wasn’t a good idea, but you went anyway. under her pillow, you found an envelope from brown university—the same school you were attending, the place you and shauna had planned to go together.

that was all it took to break you down into a sobbing mess on her bed.

𖠋

things got better. not perfect, not the way they used to be, but better. you weren't alone anymore but always had to push away the idea of losing all of your friends at once, one in special. luckily or not, college kept you busy.

"have you finished tomorrow's essay? It's so boring I might just drop the class," your girlfriend says, dropping a pile of old books on the cafeteria table and sitting across from you.

"i have dark circles under my eyes, what do you think?" you groan, lifting your head. she leans over the table to kiss your forehead.

"i think you still look pretty, baby."

"thanks, but I'm not letting you copy my work."

"worth the shot," she chuckles, placing two cups of coffee on the table, sliding one towards you.

your plan was to finish that damn essay and be completely free. the cafeteria was buzzing with students, but at least they were minding their own business. that's what you get for studying in a campus cafeteria.

"did you hear what happened to them? i'm so glad they're alive. It must have been so tough," her sudden comment startles you, taking a moment to register.

you swallow a lump in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at the TV, where crowds of people are watching the news: 'yellowjackets rescued'.

"holy shit," you whisper, the shock setting in as you realize you hadn't revealed not only your awareness of their situation but also your complex connection with one of them.

𖠋

a week after shauna got back, her parents had called you your stomach was turning upside down and your anxiety levels were through the roof. you couldn't manage to put your feelings into words.

you knocked on her bedroom door, too anxious to wait, just to announce yourself. for the first time in almost two years, shauna stood before you. she bore a few scars, nothing too severe; her hair had grown longer, losing its waves; her eyes seemed somehow larger, fixed on you as if she had just saw something extraodrinary.

she leapt from the bed, a cautious gaze scanning you, before rushing toward you and embracing you tightly.

her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers digging into your clothes so intensely it almost hurt. you reciprocated, holding her waist tightly to keep her close, unsure when the tears started flowing, but you feeling your shoulders becoming wet.

"hi," she whisper between tears, her voice crackling.

"hi," you echo her. "i thought i would never see you again."

"i know," she sniffs, clinging to you. the last thing she murmurs for the long time you two spent hugging.

shauna was back, but she was much quieter, easily irritated, and frightened by everything. she had every right to feel that way, but you were worried. no one was allowed inches close to her journal and you respected that, encouraging her to write about her feelings.

your finals didn't matter anymore; nothing else did. for the next few weeks, you were constantly by her side. even waiting outside the bathroom door like a loyal dog.

however, you weren't the same as before. you weren't as touchy or intimate, especially after shauna discovered you were dating someone else. she became distant and strange, pushing you away and ignoring your calls.

"hey, I bought you a new book. It's from that author you used to like before..." you stop yourself mid-sentence. "you know."

forcing a smile, you place the book on her desk. her vacant eyes meet yours, but she remains still, lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

"is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly, walking towards her and offering your hand.

the silence lingers but she accepts your hand and joins you.

"shauna?" you say. as soon as she's on her feet, she drops your hand quickly.

"everything is fine," she says sharply.

"right... it's just that you've been acting weird lately," you explain, trying not to upset her.

"in case you didn't know, I was trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for almost two years," she snaps, her body stiffening.

"yes, i know," you say, inhaling deeply. "but I—"

"don't you have to go back to your girlfriend anyway?" she interrupts, glancing at the door and then back at you. she clearly wanted you out.

"no, I don't," you reply, frowning. "is she why you're acting like an idiot?"

she snorts, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowing.

"It's funny how I'm the idiot when you've replaced me with someone else so quickly," you would feel bad thanks to the pain in her voice if it weren't for her absurd words.

"replace you?" you scoff. "she's my girlfriend, shauna."

"and what was I?"

"you were my friend! we were friends."

her face shuts down completely, lips parting as if ready to shout something, but she stops herself. you weren't sure if you agreed with your own words, but it’s too late now.

"i thought you were dead," you say, taking a deep breath to keep your voice steady. shauna, however, seems perfectly fine with letting her voice rise.

"you sure did," she says, shaking her head slightly.

"well, you left me."

"not because I wanted to, you fucking idiot!" she snarls, suddenly pressing her forearm against your collarbones and pushing you backwards. you gasp in surprise as your back hits the cold wall.

"shauna! what are you doing?" you try to push her away, but she’s stronger than you remember and hold you in place.

"do you ever think of me when you kiss her?" she whispers, ignoring your question. her breath is ragged, her chest heaving. she tilts her head slightly, studying your face. then she leans closer, her lips just brushing against yours.

you can hardly make sense of her words, stunned by her sudden change in behavior. your mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out.

"answer me," she growls, pressing her arm harder against you. her jaw clenches, making you yelp, and you immediately whisper a faint 'yes.'

she smirks, crashing her lips into yours. though you hesitated for a moment, you quickly recovered, syncing your movements with her rough rhythm. when you try to pull her closer by the hips, she lets go of your chest, grasping your wrists and pinning them along with you.

the urgent kiss didn't last much longer as she trailed her way down to your jawline with small bites and feral kisses, eventually reaching your neck. in her preferred area, you cry out her name when she sinks her teeth into your skin, drawing blood.

when did she got so into biting?

#shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #well this got a bit too dark #still counts as a happy ending tho right?

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nvareim · 1 month

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bite me, v. garza x fem! reader

tags; predator/prey, fearplay, dacryphilia, degradation, drugging, thigh riding, stalking, dubcon and toxic dynamics. MDNI w/c; 4.4k ao3 link | pinterest board a/n; never arguining with a woman with big brown eyes, whatever u say gorgeous

The streets of Las Almas are still blood-stained the day you escape.

It’s been quieter since the Shadows combed through the city, killing anything that moved. The dogs no longer bark, kids don’t play in the streets, and the armed men who roamed every alley are few and far between. It’s the perfect opening. You spend the morning preparing.

You pack lightly, only the things you’re sure you’ll need. Clothing for layering, socks, underwear, and cash. It all fits nicely in a backpack you can easily carry. You leave both of your phones on the nightstand, the backs pried off and batteries neatly stacked atop each other.

The better part of an hour is spent prying at the metal collar around your neck. You pry at the latch until your fingers are bloody, picking at the screw that holds it together. As a last resort, you use the point of a utility knife. You sit just inches away from the mirror, neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as you slowly unscrew the locking mechanism. You’re stock-still, barely breathing out of fear the blade will slip.

The second the collar unlatches, you rip it from around your neck and throw it aside. It slides across the floor, hitting the baseboard with a heavy thud. You take deep, ragged breaths as you study your reflection. The lack of weight around your neck is foreign. With it gone, your decision is final. There’s no turning back now.

Las Almas is teeming with Mexican soldiers. They pace the Greyhound station, X12s strapped to their thighs and rifles slung across their chests. Their watchful eyes follow you as you pay for your ticket in cash with shaky hands. The old woman in the booth hardly scrutinizes your forged papers, clicking away at her keyboard as she logs information. She slides your ticket through the opening in the plexiglass, wishing you a safe trip.

You practically fall onto a bench, sighing as you hug your bag close to your body. Rain pours down from the roof, streaming toward the storm drains. The air is thick and warm with moisture, heavy on your skin. You bounce your knee nervously as you wait for the bus to round the corner.

When it does arrive, you’re the first to board. You snag a window seat at the very back where you can watch every passenger enter. You hold your breath with each new rider, nervously anticipating Valeria or one of her men to be the next passenger. It isn’t until the bus is pulling away from Las Almas that you feel the weight lift from your chest, though just barely.

Your journey north becomes a slow crawl. The best ticket you could afford brought you just north of Denver. The rest of your cash is rationed out and stuffed beneath your clothing.

In the beginning, the kiss of cool air against your skin is refreshing. It’s a welcome reprieve from the sweltering Mexican heat. A reminder of how far you’ve gotten. But the novelty quickly wears off once the slight chill turns unforgiving. You attempt to adapt by picking up a free coat from a local church and bartering over warmer clothes from thrift stores, but they only do so much to protect you from the bitter cold. Homeless shelters aren’t an option, the lines are longer as the dead of winter draws nearer. By the time you reach Wyoming, you’re running low on money to spend. You resort to stealing food from gas stations and sleeping in alleyways. You spend your days in local libraries, reevaluating your route north and searching for updates on Valeria. Librarians typically quirk a brow at your peculiar behavior, but leave you alone until they close down for the night.

As the nights grow longer, they become even more difficult to get through. You curl yourself into a ball, your money stuffed into the band of your bra and a knife clutched tightly in your hand lest anyone gets any ideas. Hostels are few and far between and only reserved for nights you’d surely die if you slept outside.

In early December, you spend a decent chunk of your food budget on a cheap motel room. It’s a shady establishment just outside of a small city, the kind of place you pay for by the hour. Snow flutters down and gathers in the parking lot, the pure white flakes quickly soiled by the gravel beneath. Multicolored Christmas lights are wrapped around the wrought iron railings in honor of the upcoming holiday. A few women smoke in the shadows of the building, seemingly huddling together for warmth.

Inside the room, The wallpaper peels away to reveal yellow-stained drywall beneath and the heating unit rattles when you turn it on, blowing a small cloud of dust into the room. You refuse to peel away the comforter out of fear of what you’ll find, so you toss a blanket overtop instead. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke and artificial lemon is nearly caustic.

You turn the TV on, upping the volume until it’s loud enough to drown out the noise of the heater. The throw beneath you is scratchy and thin, but the bed itself is comfortable enough that you allow yourself to sink into it. With so many miles between you and Valeria, it’s easy to lull yourself into a sense of false security.

You shrug your jacket off to use as a makeshift pillow. It’s a far cry from Valeria’s luxurious bed back in Las Almas, but it’s the best you’ve had in weeks. The steady flow of warm air filling the room thaws the stiff joints in your limbs and loosens the long-held tension in your shoulders. It’s easy to fully settle into the makeshift pillow, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. It’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

It’s pin-drop quiet when you wake up. The constant hum of the heating unit has ceased, though the room has long gone cool. The TV had been shut off, leaving the room completely dark.

You blink away the last bits of sleep from your eyes, willing your vision to focus. Something primal stirs in your gut, fight or flight instincts urging you to move. The darkness comes into focus slowly, the shape of the furniture comes into focus. So does a figure sitting at the foot of the bed.

Your blood freezes in your veins. You push yourself up from the bed, heart pounding in your ears. A firm hand wraps around your upper arm, throwing you back into the mattress. The springs squeak from the force. You kick and thrash in Valeria’s hold, desperate to land at least one hit. You refuse to go down without a fight, not after all you’ve been through. You manage to land a single scratch across her cheek. Blood bubbles up from her skin, smearing onto your fingers and her face when you push her away.

One of her hands pins both your wrists to your sternum as she bears down on you. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you in place. You take in a gasping breath, lungs struggling to expand under her weight. For the first time, you get a good look at Valeria and what you see terrifies you. There’s a feral glint to her eyes and not a bit of playfulness in her smile. Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a rabbit.

“You scream and I’ll gut anyone who comes in that door,” Valeria hisses, hand tightening around your wrists as she wraps a zip tie around them. Tears spill from your waterline as composure crumbles. The edge of the tie presses into your skin uncomfortably, but Valeria doesn’t soften at your whining.

“It was a fun chase, sweetheart, but it’s over,” She fishes a small bag from her pants pocket, shaking a small white pill into her palm. Valeria holds it to your lips with one hand, the other pinching your nose shut. You go as long as you can without air, stubbornly clenching your jaw shut until your lungs burn.

Valeria watches with interest, grinning as the seconds tick by. You barely make it a minute before you’re gasping for air. Valeria doesn’t waste a moment before she’s pushing the pill past your lips and pressing her palm over your mouth before you can spit it out. Her fingers still pinch your nose shut, her grip unyielding against the restrained fists that pound against her chest.

“Swallow, baby,” She goads as black creeps into the edges of your vision. By now, the pill is reduced to bitter white chunks on your tongue, but you make a show of swallowing to satisfy her. The reaction is almost instantaneous, her fingers prodding past your lips as you desperately gulp down oxygen. Her fingers taste like sanitizer and lotion as she inspects your gum line and beneath your tongue. You cringe away from her touch but with the bed beneath you, there’s nowhere to go.

When she’s confident you swallowed, she gives you a quick pat on the cheek. The corner of her lips twitch up in only a ghost of a grin before she’s hauling you to your feet and bending you over her lap. You huff, balance thrown off kilter by the sudden movement and lack of oxygen. Valeria’s knee digs uncomfortably into your stomach and ribs. A hand wraps around your upper arm, holding you firmly on her lap.

“You thought I wouldn’t hunt you down?” She asks, free hand trailing down the curve of your spine. Her chipped and jagged nails drag across your skin, leaving raised lines in their wake. Fingers curl around the waistband on your sweatpants, gripping tight. You kick your legs, gritting out empty threats as she pulls them down. She tugs until the cleft of your ass is exposed to the stale air.

“I’m sorry,” You sob into the comforter, tears wetting the scratchy blanket. You sound like a broken record, the apologies spilling from your mouth only broken up by promises to never do it again.

“I don’t believe you,” Valeria coos, a condescending smile playing at her lips. She splays her hand against your ass cheek, lightly pressing into the soft flesh until it dimples beneath her fingertips. Her grip on your arm has tightened enough to be bruising.

The heat between Valeria’s thighs only heightens at the sight of you draped over her lap. Idly, she considers the merits of a more sadistic punishment. Purpled bite marks across your shoulders would certainly remind you who you belong to. Or maybe nice ‘V’ carved into the soft fat of your ass. Both would crush your little attitude beneath her boot. Ultimately, she decides to stow those thoughts away for now, saving them for when you’re back home with her. It’d be easy to go overboard now, with the adrenaline and anger rushing through her bloodstream. For now, she just wants to make you cry.

The first hit comes when you least expect it. The impact sends a ripple through the soft flesh of your ass. Valeria groans lowly at the sight. Your hips jump at the sensation, skin going hot beneath Valeria’s palm. The strike has you screeching, thrashing beneath her in a futile attempt at an escape. You clench and unclench your restrained fists.

“Count.” Her brown irises are swallowed by her dilated pupils, trained in the spot where her hand met your cheek. The heat of your skin bleeds into Valeria’s cold palms, goosebumps popping up across your exposed skin.

“What the fuck?” You squeal, humiliation and fear petering into indignation. It’s not a surprise to Valeria, she’d always known there was a bit of you that needed training. You were impatient, even selfish at times. A wily little thing she enjoyed wrestling into submission. The brattiness was endearing in her own bed, but after the past few weeks, it only stokes her anger.

“Count,” She repeats, a little louder this time. “Count and maybe I won’t fucking chip you.” The twist of anger in your expression has her raising her hand again, coming down in a perfect arc to hit the same spot again. You shriek into the bedding, fingernails sinking into your clammy palms. Valeria’s arm tightens around you, dragging you even further into her lap. “Not gonna do it?” She brings her hand down three more times, alternating which side she hits to keep you on edge. “You think I’m lying? Tracked you down like a fucking dog, tell me why I shouldn’t treat you like one?”

“Won’t do it again, Val,” You sob. “Please, I’m sorry!” Hot tears stream down your flushed face, mixing with the drool smeared across your chin and mouth. Your voice cracks with the force of your crying. Valeria grows impossibly wetter, slick dampening the gusset of her panties.

“Then start counting.” Your fingers claw at the blanket as she strikes you again. There’s no screech or resistance when her palm hits you, just sniffling. The seconds drag by like hours as Valeria waits with bated breath, hungrily watching the tears spill from your eyes.

“ One .” Valeria releases your chin and you press your cheek to the mattress. She groans at your thin voice, hoarse from all your yelling. Her palm rubs soothing circles over the spot she’d just hit, contrasting the rough treatment just seconds prior. A shudder runs up your body at the sensation, eyes screwed shut.

“Good girl,” She murmurs, lips curling into a predatory grin. The next hit has you tensing up beneath her, stammering out a low two . There’s still some resentment buried beneath your submission. It shows in the impudent curl of your lips, the angry furrow of your brow. The quiet whimper that slips your mouth before three is delicious. It appeases Valeria’s growing appetite.

By ten , you’ve run out of tears. The quiet groans spilling from your throat have a knot winding in Valeria’s stomach. Your ass is marred with her handprints, raised marks from the trauma. Come time, they’ll darken into bruises, the sting of red-hot flesh fading to an overwhelming ache. And every time you see them, you’ll be reminded of your mistakes. Valeria loosens her grip on you, knowing you won’t even try to run.

By fifteen , your eyes have glossed over and your thrashing has ceased. The numbers are whispered through gritted teeth between quiet grunts, attitude fully snuffed out by Valeria’s hand. A little pain and you’re her good girl again, all sweet and pliant beneath her. Your inner thighs are dewy with the slick that leaks from you, dribbling down your cunt to your swollen clit.

There’s no resistance as she hauls you to your feet, hands placed beneath your armpits like you’re a doll. You brace your hands on her shoulder, legs too shaky to keep you upright. Valeria tugs your panties and sweatpants up, brushing the bruised curve of your ass too firmly to be accidental. You shift a little, lurching forward to escape the pain.

Valeria grabs you by the hips, dragging you into her lap. You let out a little yelp upon resting your ass against her thighs, the sudden weight against the raw skin overwhelming. For a moment, you hover, but Valeria presses you down firmly, ignoring the way you wriggle away. Once the pain subsides, you practically meld into her, head resting in the crook of her neck as you sniffle. Valeria brushes the hair from your face, damp with tears and cold sweat. Your limbs are loose, heavy with warmth that emanates from the pit of your stomach.

“Why’d you run?” She murmurs, dragging her splayed palms up and down your thighs. When you don’t reply, she tugs your head from the crook of her neck, hand cradling the base of your skull. Valeria studies you with her dark eyes, searching for a flicker of resistance in your lachrymose gaze. She finds nothing. “Hm? What was it?”

“I was scared,” The words slip out before you can consider them. It’s an admission only made more pathetic by your thin voice. Something in Valeria’s gaze shifts as her lips press into a line. Her hand tightens on the back of your neck. The weeks of false composure fracture when faced with her dilated pupils, only a thin rind of warm brown surrounding them. The fear hits you like a cold wave, washing over your body as the words are spilling from your chest.

“I-I didn’t know if it was safe for me to stay,” You stammer out, clenching your hands into fists in an attempt to ward off the tremors overtaking you. “I was worried that maybe they’d come for me next and you wouldn’t be there, Valeria, and I-” The corners of her lips tug up into a smug, satisfied grin and your words are cut short with a stifled sob.

It’s not a lie, but not quite the truth either. Valeria can see it in the split second of hesitation before you speak. There’s fear there, but not fear of her enemies. No, she saw that terror in your wide-eyed gaze when you realized she had been the one to find you.

“Oh, mi vida ,” Valeria coos, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. Her thumb brushes away the few tears rolling down your face. Her other hand brushes up and down your side, dipping beneath the fabric of your shirt. “You thought you’d be safer running?” You sniffle as she squeezes at the fat of your hip. “This,” She gestures to the room around you with a sardonic chuckle. “This is worse than if you stayed put. I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are.”

“I’m sorry.” You say for the millionth time. It’s the only response your brain can formulate. She’s right, running only left you more vulnerable to people who would use you to reach Valeria. But she doesn’t take your fear of her into consideration, even with the marks spread across your ass cheeks.

“I believe you,” She says, “But it’ll take more than an apology to make me trust you. You understand, right?”

You nod, eyes cast downward in shame.

“Good girl,” She tugs at your lower lip with her thumb. “Missed you s’much, you know?” She purrs, pressing two fingers past your lips. Your jaw widens to accommodate the push of her finger against your tongue. “Was so excited to see my girl. Bet you can imagine how I took the news, hm?” Drool gathers behind your teeth, dripping down your chin as Valeria ‘accidentally’ bumps your gag reflex. You lurch, but her fingers remain firmly hooked in her mouth. You don’t have the energy to resist her, any coherent thought slipping from your grasp before you can make sense of it.

“So pretty like this,” She muses. Valeria adjusts you like a doll, one hand grabbing and moving your limbs until you're straddling her thigh. “You know who owns this cunt, don’t you?” Her other hand grips your hip, rolling it against her muscled thigh. Valeria laughs at your garbled moan as pleasure sparks in your core. “Just my stupid little pet that doesn’t know what’s good for her.”

“M’not,” You slur, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt. She continues the slow pace, occasionally bouncing her knee to relish in your yelps. The heat in your stomach only grows. Electricity shoots up your spine when Valeria perfects the angle, pressing the seam of your pants against your clit just right. You moan around her fingers, lips and chin shiny with spit. In the weeks you spent running, pleasure had been an afterthought. You never had the time or privacy to worry about getting yourself off. The neglect left you swollen, sensitive, and all too receptive to Valeria’s touch.

“Really?” She coos, slowly pulling her fingers from your mouth. They come to rest on your other hip, fingers dampening the fabric beneath them. “Grinding your cunt on me like a dumb mutt, aren’t you?” With a firmer grip on you, she presses your cunt even harder on her thigh, rocking you back and forth. You mindlessly follow her movements, chasing your high.

Valeria studies the pinch of your brow and pitch of moans, watching every minute expression that crosses your face. Your thighs tighten around her own, desperately humping at her. Quiet pants escape your swollen lips, your head hangs low, and your eyes shut. The languid pace is entirely your own, she’s barely moving you along.

When your moans take a higher pitch, fingers tugging at her shirt, she knows you're close. Valeria’s hand comes to pull at your hair, tugging your head back and exposing the bare column of your throat. Her jaw clenches upon noticing your collar’s absence. She meets your wide eyes, your scleras flushed red and pupils dilated. Your pace falters, but Valeria prompts you to keep going with a bounce of her leg.

“Please,” You whimper. “Wanna come.” The desperation in your voice is palpable. It’s pathetic enough to have Valeria pitying you. It’s hard for you to keep your grip on her shirt, your muscles seem to have a mind of their own. Your restrained hands fall to your lap, numb and warm as you continue to grind.

“Yeah?” She taunts. “You wanna cum on my thigh?” Her fingers dance up your shirt, calluses brushing over your fluttering abdomen as she makes her way to your breasts. You part your lips when her fingers toy with your hardened nipples, plucking and twisting the sensitive buds.

“Mhmm,” You nod, eyes fluttering shut. Your tongue is too heavy to form a proper response. By now, your head has gone cottony and light, filled with nothing but Val. It’s hard to even remember how you got into this situation or even recognize the dull ache of your bruised ass on every grind. Her body heat is suffocating, the scent of her perfume leaving you drooling. Valeria can see the distant look in your eyes, so she lets your lack of verbal response slide. She dips her head to your shoulder, pressing wet kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Please,” You manage to wail, repeating the word until your voice gives out on you. Valeria’s teeth glint in the moonlight as you come, nipping at the thin skin above your pulse point. Your wetness soaks the crotch of your panties, leaving them wet and sticky along the curve of your folds. The heat bleeds through your pants, warming Valeria’s thigh.

When your hips stop twitching and your breath slows, you slump into Valeria. The hand beneath your shirt traverses up and down your spine as you hiccup and cry. Shame curdles in your stomach, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. Valeria presses soft kisses to your cheek, slowly making her way to your chapped lips.

The kiss is sloppy and almost entirely one-sided. You struggle to keep up with her, clumsily tilting your head the wrong way and hardly moving your tongue. Her teeth knock against yours. When you cringe away at the sensation, she follows you, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to break skin. Hands wrap around your upper arms hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer to her. She licks along the sharp edges of your teeth, presses her tongue against yours. You squirm and whine through it all, only settling when she pulls away, a string of blood-tinged saliva connecting you.

Satisfaction blooms in Valeria’s chest as she meets your teary eyes. You weeks of planning, the effort spent running, all of it was rendered pointless in a matter of minutes. The regret has your chest tightening, wishing you’d fought harder, bared your teeth. It’s too late, you realize as she heaves you to your feet. There’s no chance at escape with the way the room sways, legs weak beneath you. Valeria anchors you to her side just as you're about to fall, pulling you toward the door. Your mind desperately screams to push her away, but you can’t feel your arms anymore. You stumble and trip over the door frame, only held upright by Valeria’s arm around your waist.

You can’t help but feel like a prisoner approaching the gallows when you see the idling car. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as she drags you forward, ignoring your attempts to dig your heels in. Each step is one step closer back to Las Almas, back to her mansion, to the gilded cage she’ll lock you in. Fear curdles in your stomach, but there’s nothing you can do with Valeria practically pinning you to her side. She pushes you into the car, quickly sliding in next to you and slamming the door shut. The click of the locks cements your fate. Valeria wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close when you try to shuffle away. She barks out orders to the driver. The car shifts gears, quickly leaving the motel and meeting the open road. Valeria murmurs something about going home as your body loosens, her knuckles brushing over your arm. It’s only a matter of minutes before you’re sprawled across the seat, head resting in her lap. The promise of deep, dreamless sleep is irresistable.

Valeria idly brushes the hair from your face, humming a quiet tune just loud enough for you to hear. For a while, she watches you fight to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut adorably each time you do. She smiles when you finally slip away, that pinched, fearful expression finally leaving your pretty face. It’s the culmination of weeks of work, countless outbursts, and more than a few deaths. You gave a good chase, she’ll admit, but she won.

Valeria’s sure once the rohypnol’s effects wane, you’ll be back to your feral self. It won’t be easy to earn your submission, but to her, that’s half the fun. Valeria can already hear the foul threats you’ll grunt out from behind your gag, drool dripping down your chin as you pull against your leash. But that’s trouble for another day, another training session. It’ll take more than one session to fully domesticate you, but Valeria is eager for the work ahead. She’s always enjoyed playing with her food.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #call of duty #.my writing #tw dubcon #tw noncon #just in case #valeria x reader #el sin nombre

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luigisblueoveralls · 1 year

Text

Honeymoon Bliss

Luigi x Fem!Reader

SFW and NSFW

Requested by @pixelybisexualwitch

Summary: After you and Luigi's wedding, you both take off to your honeymoon and spend the whole day together and have fun during the day as well as extra fun during the night.

Notes: Fluff and Smut. I will mark where the Smut starts in case anyone just wants to read the fluff. Of course, shy and fluffy and praising Luigi as always, but also very loving.

Requested by:

(H/C)=Hair Color

(S/T)=Skin Tone

(E/C)=Eye color

🌸=When SFW starts

🔥=When NSFW starts

💚

🌸

"You may now kiss the bride."

The whole crowd cheered as Luigi grabbed you, bowed you down, and gave you the biggest kiss he has ever given you. He held onto you tightly so he wouldn't drop you by accident. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you back up straight, absolutely on cloud nine. The two of you were so happy to finally tie the knot. Your family and friends were crying with tears of joy, especially Mario. He was so happy for his little brother to have someone to love. Throughout the wedding, the two of you played wedding games, ate some cake, and hung out with your friends and family, absolutely enjoying the day. But you both knew it was about to get even better. The honeymoon.

When Luigi asked where you wanted to go, you picked Colorado. Despite the heavy snow there, the mountains and views were beautiful. Luigi wanted to go wherever you wanted to go, and he was happy to go to Colorado for y'alls honeymoon. Since y'all wanted to have the whole first day in Colorado, you both waited till the day after the wedding to start the honeymoon.

"You ready, (Y/N)?" Luigi asked you both buckled the seatbelts in your seat.

The airplane was fixing to take off, and while you were excited, you were also nervous. Airplanes have always given you anxiety.

"Y-Yeah. I am Luigi." You told him in response.

As the airplane started to move, Luigi held your hand tightly. You held back as the plane went faster and faster and started lifting up. You held your breath as you could feel your stomach do flips, and your legs start to shake. All you could hear was the sound of the airplane engine souring loudly, as if it were mocking you. Make it stop, please.

"Hey." You heard the calm, soft voice of your now husband speak to you.

You shakingly turned to him. Luigi's blue eyes stared into your (E/C) colored eyes.

"I'm right here. We are on our way to Colorado right now. What are we going to do first when we get there?" Luigi asked you, trying to distract you away from the airplane take off.

"U-Um, we are going to go to our cabin on the mountain that we rented." You answered him.

Luigi held both of your hands and made you turn to your side fully to be facing him.

"A log cabin, actually. I may or may not have secretly made a few upgrades." Luigi winked at you, making you giggle.

"That sounds delightful." You said, blushing intensely, thinking about the day and night is gonna go.

"And then what?" Luigi asked, his blue eyes twinkling at you.

Ever since y'all got together five years ago, Luigi's eyes twinkled at you with so much love and care he had for you. You could stare into his eyes forever.

"Then we are going to go eat at a local pub, have some drinks and good food. And then maybe have some more fun later that night at the cabin." Luigi suggested, giving you a sly smile.

"Oh, really now?" You whispered, making you both giggle like school girls.

You felt more relaxed and relieved as the airplane was stable. You got back into reality as you realized you were with the love of your life, and you were gonna have the funnest week of your life in Colorado. After about five hours on the plane, the two of you finally arrived in Denver, Colorado. It was cold but you both were prepared.

"Brrrr, it's starting to snow!" Luigi exclaimed as the two of you quickly climbed into the taxi, shoving your luggage in it.

"You two new here?" The taxi driver asked both of you.

"Honeymoon! Newly married." You told the driver.

"Congratulations to you both then. I hope you both enjoy Colorado." The driver said to you both.

Luigi thanked the driver as you peered out the window. There was fresh snow starting to fall from the sky and onto the ground with the mountains already caked in snow. It was such a beautiful sight to you, and it was everything you have ever dreamed of. The two of you then arrived at the log cabin you were staying at. It was up on a hill, not a steep hill, thankfully, but the snow that was falling on the roof and on the grass and it made the view so much more beautiful. In the distance, on the back porch was a beautiful, open view of the mountains. And to top it all off, there were no close neighbors. The taxi stopped, and you and Luigi scrambled out of the taxi to get your luggage out. You paid the taxi driver as well as gave him a good tip, and he drove off. Although you wanted to admire the cabin some more from the outside, it was absolutely freezing, so the two of you power walked into the cabin.

"I'll go turn on the heater." Luigi announced as he searched for the cabins thermostat, which was in the kitchen.

The hot heat immediately filled the cabin, warming the two of you up.

"Ahh, that feels so good." You sighed, sitting on the couch.

"Oh yeah." Luigi said as he sat down next to you.

Of course, Luigi immediately held your hand and leaned his head onto your shoulder. You both were on cloud nine and felt so high for each other. Luigi was your husband, and you were his wife. It finally happened. You could feel your body start to get very warm and tingly on the inside. It felt so good to you. Oh yeah, you were ready. But was Luigi?

"Hey, uh, Lui?"

"Hm?"

"Can we uh, delay the pub dinner for tomorrow?" You asked Lui.

"Well, why's that?" Luigi asked.

"I think my entire body is sick, and *you're* the only cure for it." You told him in a sly tone, hoping he'd get it.

Judging by his pink face, Luigi got it.

"O-Oh, I see. Is someone feeling frisky?"

"Maybe." You answered, turning away from him in embarrassment.

This sort of thing wasn't new for the two of you. You both have had sex with each other plenty of times, the first time with Luigi being super shy as hell, but this time, it was different for sure. It would be y'all's first time as husband and wife. Luigi then grabbed your chin and made you look at him with a smile.

"Uh maybe I am too." Luigi awkwardly said.

It was his way of trying to be seductive. It was cute, and it worked on you. You glanced down at his crotch, answering your suspicions.

"Yeah, I can tell." You commented, still staring.

Out of a mix of both embarrassment and being flustered, Luigi covered his crotch up with his hands.

"Take me to the bedroom." You commanded him.

"Yes, ma'am." Luigi said as he got up, picked you up, held you gently and carried you to the bedroom.

🔥

Both of you entered the bedroom, and it was so big with a Queen sized bed, a big TV as well as a dimly lit lamp turned on. It set the mood for sure. Luigi then ever so carefully sat you down on the bed. He has always treated you so delicately like a feather.

"You're so pretty." Luigi said to you.

You blushed at his comment profusely. Even though you have heard these compliments so many times over the years, Luigi never fails to make you blush.

"You're such a cutie, Lui." You told him, pinching his cheek.

He giggled at you as he laid down on his back, looking up at the ceiling. You got a sly idea. You started taking your shirt off without moving positions, and Luigi remained still. You could feel Luigi looking at you as your shirt came fully off. You were wearing a bright green lacy revealing bra on, which was part of the surprise outfit you had planned for Lui. He was eyeing you but not fully staring. You decided that the best course of action was to get him out of the room for a second.

"Why don't you go get that bottle of white wine we brought with us?"

"Oh, uh yeah, yeah, sure thing." Luigi said, his face just caked in pink.

You know he saw the bra, and it was unlike anything you have ever worn for him. It took him by surprise and made him instantly aroused for you. As Luigi left, you quickly tore all of your clothes off, wanting to reveal the whole outfit to him. It barely covered your parts and skin and also came with stockings as well. It was y'alls honeymoon, anything can happen. As you could hear Luigi coming back to the room, you sat on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed and your hands propping your body up. Your entire body was in view for him. Luigi entered the room and nearly dropped the wine bottle and glasses he had in his hand when he saw you.

"(Y-Y/N). You look so..stunning." Luigi stuttered out.

His whole face was caked in red. Even his nose was bright red. The way your (S/T) skin blend in with the bright green lingerie you had made him so much more aroused than he already was. He could not keep his eyes off of you.

"Thank you." You gestured Luigi to sit next to you, and he did.

He poured both of you a glass of wine, setting the bottle aside.

"To husband and wife." You start a toast.

"To husband and wife." Luigi finished as you both clicked your glasses together and finished the glass of wine.

The wine went down your throat smoothly. You didn't need the wine but you figured Luigi may need a little confidence juice. You both sat the glasses aside as Luigi turned to face you, holding your hips. He quietly gazed up and down at you, admiring your body.

"Forgive me, I know it's rude to stare but I can't help it." Luigi apologized to you.

"Sweetheart, there's no need to apologize. I'd be offended if you didn't stare." You drag your finger down his cheek and twirled the end of his mustache that you loved so much.

You gazed down and noticed Luigi's excitement poking through his shorts.

"Someone's excited." You comment, grazing your hand near his crotch making Luigi whine.

"Ah, how could I help but not be excited with you?" Luigi said, watching what you were going to do.

You backed away from Luigi and laid down on the bed, not breaking eye contact from him.

"I want you, Lui. Come show me a good time, husband." You told him.

"Y-Yes, ma'am." Luigi said, flustered than ever.

Luigi then took his shirt off. You admired his body. Luigi wasn't fat but also wasn't skin and bones either. He had some chest hair, but not too much and even some muscle in his arms from all of the plumbing work he has done over the years. He then took his shorts and boxers off, his hard dick popping out. He was a good five inches and very thick. From the other times y'all have done it, he was able to hit all the right nerves and spots inside of you due to that factor.

"God, you're so handsome." You comment, making Luigi smile.

"I think you're slightly better looking than me." Luigi said as he got on top, hovering over you.

He then leaned down and gave you a passionate kiss. You instantly kiss back, feeling his soft lips against yours. Luigi then began to massage your breast, making you moan into his mouth. You just want him inside of you so badly. You crave him now more than ever. You felt Luigi then grab your lacy underwear and pull it down your waist, then your legs and then off of your body. You could feel yourself become more and more wet from just Luigi touching you. His touch was like a drug to you, so addicting and you would get withdrawals if he didn't touch you.

"Oh, Lui. I want you." You begged to him.

If this was his first time, Luigi would've came right then and there from your words. But over the years, he has gotten better at being tolerant and lasting longer.

"I want you too, (Y/N)." Luigi said as he positioned himself to enter you.

"Are you ready, my love?" He asked for your consent.

Even though you were more than ready, you always appreciated him asking for your consent. You nodded in response as Luigi pushed his dick inside of you, making you moan deeply.

"Fuck."

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Luigi frantically asked you.

The thought of hurting you made him so upset. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do to you.

"You're fine, Luigi. Just felt so good." You reassured him, rubbing his back.

"Okay good. I just want this to be fun for you." Luigi told you.

"I know and you're already doing that."

Luigi smiled at your comment. He felt reassured. Luigi then started thrusting in and out of you, softly and slowly. You wanted something more.

"P-Pin me down, Lui."

Luigi stopped and looked at you in shock.

"Too much?" You asked.

"N-No, (Y/N). I just didn't expect that out of you." Luigi admitted.

"Well, it's our honeymoon. Anything can happen." You mentioned.

"You're right."

Luigi then grabbed your wrists, held them tightly but not harshly and pinned your hands above your head. The feeling of his nails into your wrists turned you on so much.

"L-Like this?" He asked.

You nod in response, feeling so much bliss and euphoria radiate throughout your body. Luigi then started thrusting in and out of you. Right away, Luigi was hitting all of the right nerves, making you tingle. You locked eye contact with Luigi, his bright blue eyes that were filled with so much love for you staring back into yours intensely.

"You feel so good, Lui." You moaned, which made Luigi start thrusting faster and harder.

He laid his forehead on yours, still maintaining eye contact.

"Sh-Shit." Luigi groaned, "you feel so warm, (Y/N). Ah, ah!"

Hearing the noises he was making made you moan louder. You could feel his nails dig into your skin out of pleasure but you didn't care at all. No, you just care about how good Luigi was making you feel right now. The entire room was filled with the two of y'alls noises you both were making.

"O-Oh, (Y/N). You feel so good."

"L-Luigi. Oh, ohh. Right there, please."

Luigi started hitting in the direction that hit your good spot inside of you. You couldn't feel your legs any more, they were all tingly and numb from Luigi's thrusts. That orgasm was coming close for you and it felt so so good.

"Please, Lui. Lui let me cum please." You beg him.

"Ngh, ah, ahh. Hmhmm, hm." Luigi whimpered out.

That tells you that he was coming close. When Luigi would come close, he could not get any words out other than your name.

"I'm right there, Lui. I'm right there. O-Oh!" You cried out, feeling the edge of your orgasm creep out.

Luigi was getting sloppy because he was right there, too, but he kept going for you. It was all worth it to him to hear your moans of pleasure because of him.

"Oh, oh ohh Luigi! Oh Lui!"

"Ohh, oh (Y-Y/N)!"

The two of you screamed in unison as the both of you orgasmed hard at the same time, causing Luigi to collapse on top of you. You both laid in silence as both of you were catching your breaths and coming down from the high of your orgasms.

🌸

"That was…amazing." You gasp out.

"Yes. It was." Luigi agreed.

He let go of your wrists and just wrapped his arms around you, to hold you, as he laid his head gently on your chest.

"I love you, Luigi." You said as you run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

"I love you too, (Y/N)." Luigi said back, totally smitten with you.

"Want to freshen up in the shower?" You offered.

Luigi jolted his head up in excitement.

"Um yeah! Definitely."

The two of you climbed off of each other and went to the master bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. The shower was huge, with a shower head on each side of the wall with a tile floor and wall as well as glass doors. As you started the water and waited for it to warm up, you could feel Luigi run his fingers slowly down your back and to the clip of your lacy bra. He unclipped your bra and slid your bra off of your body.

"You're so beautiful." Luigi told you as he kissed your shoulder, his soft fingers running down your skin.

It made you shiver but in a good way. He then wrapped his arms around you and started placing soft kisses on your neck.

"Lui, you're just the cutest man ever."

Luigi giggled, burying his face into your neck.

"God. What would I do without you?" He laughed.

Luigi could not imagine a life without you. He loved you that much. He wanted to have kids with you, grow old with you and he pray that at the point you both are super old that y'alls kids were grown and you both would die together in peace for he could never imagine a day without you.

"What would I do without you?" You remarked back, making the both of you laugh.

Once the water was hot enough, the two of you stepped into the shower. For the rest of the night, you two stayed in the shower together till the water got cold. Luigi took his time with washing you. He wanted to get every inch of your skin, and he did. And you did the same thing for him. Washing his mustache was the best part in your opinion. It was definitely a good post sex activity for both of you and a different type of intimacy for both of you. Once you both were done showering, y'all didn't even bother putting clothes back on. You both just both got back under the covers, holding each other close. You both could not wait for another day of spending time with each other as newlywedded husband and wife.

💚

Here it is!! I'm so sorry it took so long! Like I said I work full time and can only write when I can but thank you all for your patience! I hope you enjoy this @pixelybisexualwitch !! I'll be working on the other requests as well and have them up as soon as I can.

#luigi fluff #luigi smut #luigi x reader #luigi nintendo #super mario luigi #x reader #luigi #luigi my beloved #luigi x reader fluff #luigi x reader smut #super mario #super mario movie

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ladylooch · 1 year

Text

Road Visit with Timo Meier

A/N: I'm uh... just gonna drop this here and run away. K thanks bye. Don't even come at me for making this sweet at the end either. You know how I am!!!!!!! Okay, love you, bye.

Word count: 3.2k

I’m almost disappointed he hasn’t seen me yet. Almost. But the view from the bar where he scrolls through his phone is delectable. He’s in a suit, thinking he is meeting Nico and Jesper for a fancy steakhouse dinner.

What he doesn’t know is he is meeting me. In this dimly lit hotel bar and then I’m taking him upstairs for the much needed distraction that I am.

I watched him when he walked in. He didn’t even look around, just went right to the bar, asking for an old fashioned. He had sighed deeply, taking out his phone and sending a heart to the distraction picture I sent earlier of me and Lio from last night.

I miss those faces. Give Lee a kiss for me. Had been his response.

When the old fashioned was set in front of him, he gulped down half of it angrily.

My husband is in a mood. And that’s why I got on the first flight out to Denver this afternoon.

Timo gently sets the glass back on the table. He presses a button on his phone, then brings the phone up to his ear. I jolt when my phone starts vibrating against the bar, quickly silencing it and sending him to voicemail. I watch as he frowns deeper, clicking off before leaving a message. His thumbs type feverishly against the screen.

Call me when you can. Need to hear your voice.

Another gulp of his drink.

I down the rest of my cosmo, then step away from the long bar. I tug my black skirt down, trying not to be subconscious about being a mom to an almost three year old and wearing something so sinfully short. Timo still scrolls through his phone. A smile quirks a corner of my mouth up. I’m glad his eyes aren’t wandering, not that I ever worry about that to begin with. I get close to his table, taking a head on approach that has his blue eyes looking up from his illuminated screen. A double take happens, then a huge, stunned smile stretches his lips apart. He tosses his phone onto the table, standing before coming around to grab me into his arms.

“Em.” He sighs into me. I close my eyes, tilting my face into him for a moment. But just one.

“I saw you sitting across the bar and had to come say hello.”

“Why didn’t you come over right away?”

“I’m a little intimidated by handsome men.” I trail my gaze up the buttons of his shirt, lingering where the one button is undone, giving me a peek of his chest. I slide past his strong jaw, then to his blue gaze.

“You’re my wife?” He chuckles, confused. He isn’t catching on.

"Let's not talk about your wife." Timo furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

"You need a distraction. That's what I'm here for. A very... sexy... needy distraction." I pout my dark red lip at him.

“I love my wife though…” He says as he cocks his head to the side.

“She offered to share you. Just for tonight. For the sake of the team.” I swipe my finger over my lips in a shush. His eyes finally sparkle in recognition of what I'm doing. He reaches for his ring, taking it off. He pulls mine off too, then reaches for the clasped necklace with our son's name on it, undoing that with a brief kiss against my neck. He takes the pile of expensive jewelry and slides it into his inner suit pocket for safe keeping.

“In that case, what's your drink of choice, beautiful?"

“Cosmo.”

“A woman of sophistication. Admirable.” He murmurs. “I’ll grab you one. Have a seat.”

He squeezes my fingers briefly, then wanders up to the bar. I watch his back as he leans against the bar top waiting. Tonight, I’m going to drag my fingernails down his skin until he’s marked for practice tomorrow. The boys will give him shit and he’ll love it. I nibble my bottom lip at the thought until it’s puffy and red when he returns. He sets the pink drink in front of me, then wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me onto his lap.

“More comfortable here.” He insists, eyes looking at my lips. I nod in agreement. I take a sip of my cosmo, savoring the bite with an appreciative sigh.

“You in town for business or pleasure?” I ask him.

“I thought it was business. But something hints at pleasure tonight.” I suck my cheeks in to keep from breaking character.

“I’m only here for pleasure.” Timo grins back, white teeth sparkling in the low lighting of the bar.

“How long you in town?”

“Until Thursday morning. I’m going to the Devils game tomorrow night.”

“You need tickets?”

“No, I know a guy.” Timo can’t help but laugh at that.

“Am I the guy?” He asks.

“No, Nico Hischier.”

“Ah. So, Why aren’t you in his bed tonight?” I snort on my cosmo, then cough. Ew.

“Heard his wife doesn’t share like yours.” I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth as both Timo and I giggle.

“I am a lucky man. She’s good to me.”

“Thought we weren’t talking about her.”

“Can’t help myself.”

“I think I can help you.” I lean down, brushing my lips over his. I watch his eyes close, thick eyebrows turn inward as he appreciates the feeling of my fingers trailing along his upper thigh.

"I have something I know your wife has never worn for you.” I grab his hand, putting it on my thigh and using it to push the fabric of my skirt up. He moans when he reveals my red lingerie. He gets bold, running a thick finger along the edge, sighing when he pulls it away to watch it snap back into the crease of my thigh.

“No. My wife has never worn this.” He knows all of my sets. This one is new. I slide his hand back down, covering the bold lace back up. Timo’s blue eyes are yearning now. Almost desperate enough to head upstairs.

“We probably shouldn't be seen together." He murmurs as he slides a card into my palm, just like in Ibiza. “I’ve got family ties on the team.” His nose trails along my cheek until he gets to my ear lobe, sucking it into his mouth. "You go up first. I'll be there in a minute." His thumb comes to stroke my lips, igniting fire and setting my heart beat racing.

I stand, watching Timo’s face as my dress sticks a little high, showing him more of my lingerie. I wiggle it all back into place, then slowly saunter from the bar. In the lobby, I see a few Devils players lingering. I give a brief wave, not stopping my pursuit to the elevators. Once inside, I punch the button for the 8th floor.

I walk down the hall to room 821, putting the key card in and stepping into the dark room. I go to the bedside table, turning the lamp on then surveying the room. Timo is neat, much more so than any other man I’ve been with. He has all his clothes tucked away in the closet and dresser. Only his sneakers sitting by the dresser are an indication that someone is staying in here. My eyes find the picture of Lio and I he brings with him every road trip. It’s from when he was barely 1. Our cheeks are pressed together as we both laugh, noses scrunched enjoying the fall day at the start of training camp. I turn the picture facing down, knowing my husband won’t want to see our son with what he’s about to do to his mother.

My fingers gather the silky fabric of my black dress, pulling it over my head and tossing it into the dresser. I stretch my neck and shoulders out, then set myself on the bed to wait.

It isn’t a long one.

“Okay, this is kinda funny. Nico was in the elevator- Oh my god.” Timo pauses when he sees me on the bed. He’s comatose for a moment seeing my lingerie set completely exposed. Peek-a-boo lace covers my skin but barely. His mouth literally drops open as his blue gaze scours my body. I lay back, then slide my legs apart as he steps forward so he can see the lack of fabric between my legs. He gropes at his belt while sliding a finger through my wet folds.

“Take me. However you need to. For however long you want.” I moan as his middle finger plunges into my entrance unannounced.

“You’re making all my dreams come true tonight.” The metal of his belt clangs together as he gets it apart. He leans forward, placing his lips against my wetness. His tongue comes out, lapping along my slit until he finds my clit. He sucks it into his mouth, humming against the sensitive bud until my back arches.

“You’re so sweet.” He whispers, breath teasing as he pulls back. “Are you sweet here too?” He leans down, sucking my nipple through the lace of my bra. He cups the bottom of my breast, plumping it up to devour more of me. It feels so good as his fingers circle my clit simultaneously. The way he explores my body with rough touches of familiar places makes me ache. “Mmm, you are.” He murmurs, pulling away. “You wanna taste?” I nod vigorously, grabbing his neck as our lips touch. His tongue assaults my mouth, leaving trails of me and him there.

“Be a good girl and get on your knees.” He says. He gets off the bed, unbuttoning each of his buttons while he watches me stand. Slowly, I bend over in front of him, rocking side to side before crawling back onto the bed on all fours. He reaches for me, crudely shoving his bare cock through my folds. He grips my hips, rocking me back onto him until he’s fully sheathed by my heat.

“Fuck, baby.” He stutters.

“Am I being good? You like the way I take you?” I whisper, biting my lip at the way he already groans behind me after his first thrust.

“God, yeah. Perfect.” He connects my back with his chest, groaning at the way my ass bounces against his abdomen with each forceful pump. His lips explore the valley of my shoulder blades. I swear he whispers I love you, but then he turns wild and I don’t have the opportunity to ask what he said.

“Oh…. My.” My mouth drops in shock. He’s hitting depths I don’t think I’ve ever taken him before. My throat constricts, trapping more sound into it as I feel my inner walls begin to flutter around him. He pauses for a moment, adjusting his grip on my hips as he rises back up to his knees behind me. “Right there.” I sob, reaching my hand back to grip his wrist. My finger nails pierce his skin briefly.

“No. Only my wife gets to touch me.” He grabs my wrist harshly, pinning it against my lower back and fucking harder into me. My face is shoved into the comforter. I can barely breathe between the sheets and my hair. Timo reaches around musing my brown strands off my face and groaning as I pant heavily from each thrust into my tightening core.

“Fuck. Ohmygod.” My words are mouthed. Not even completely spoken as the orgasm rips through me. He doesn’t stop when he feels the convulsions of my walls. He doubles down, harder and harder as my jaw practically unhinges. Timo brings my hand down, placing it on the bed again. I grip the comforter tightly to ground myself while I shudder.

“You feel so fucking good cumming around my cock.” He grits his teeth.

My walls hug him tightly, coming harder than the first time as the scream lodged in my throat tears loose. It’s primal and raw, a sound I don’t remember hearing from my mouth before. Timo chuckles triumphantly, then slows his thrusts to ease me back down. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“That’s it… Let me teammates here how good I make you feel." He bruises my skin harshly with his teeth. I whimper as he slides all the way out of me. He taps my thigh. I flip onto my back, cheeks pink, breasts bouncing, lingerie twisting slightly off center. Timo plunges into me again after a hefty suck of my left nipple.

“This what you wanted when you saw me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Wanted to be fucked like a slut?” I close my eyes, giggling.

“How can I be the slut here when it’s so clear how much you want me?”

“I don’t like my women sassy.” I snort, then reach up, slapping his face lightly.

“No?” I purse my lips as he laughs, clearly enjoying everything that is happening between us.

“Now, I gotta fuck the brat out of you.”

“You can sure try.” He rolls his eyes at my ever persistent challenges.

He leans forward, scooping me up into his arms like I’m nothing for him. I chomp down on my lip, drawing blood as my eyebrows pull inward. He fucks me deep, at an angle, that has my spent walls overstimulated.

“You good, baby?” He asks. I nod. “Open your eyes so I can see.” I do and he grins, seeing how absolutely wrecked I am from what he is doing to me. “One more.” He begs, leaning down to kiss me. Our heavy breathing makes it hard to stay connected. I choke as my orgasm grips me again, taking Timo with me into the delicious abyss. Jerky pumps push his seed deeper into me as he drops me onto the bed, unable to hold my weight up anymore with the intensity of his orgasm. His fingers pin my hips down as he finishes his sloppy thrusts.

Almost instantly, Timo's touch on my hips changes. Gone is the possessive franticness and in it's place comes a tender caress. His fingers spread wider, trying to gather as much of my flesh into his hands as possible. He pulls me down, forcing himself as deep as possible until our mixed sex smears across his lower abdomen.

"Babe." I whisper breaking our role play. "Are you okay?” My words are met with nothing but his heavy breathing. “I’m worried about you.” I murmur.

“How do you just know?”

"I heard it in your voice last night when you called.” My hand threads through his hair. His nose smooshes into my collar bone. I run my other hand along his back, pressing down so he collapses his weight onto my frame, still buried inside of me. My legs wrap around his waist, heels pressing into his butt.

“I’m…” Timo starts then trails off. I wait patiently, stroking my finger nails along his back. Goosebumps protrude from his skin. He melts further into me, smooshing his lips in wet kisses. “I’m having a hard time focusing on hockey.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I just.. wanna be at home with you and Lio.” This is the second season since Lio has been born and I’m surprised to hear this is the struggle. “It is so hard leaving you.” His earnest groan has me turning my face to caress his head with mine. “Feel like I’m missing so much of his life.” He sighs, then rolls off and out of me. His back hits the mattress next to me in a heavy thud. “Missing so much of our life.”

I reach out, holding his abdomen, stroking my fingers into the deep groves of muscle.

“You’re going to have to find a way over this.” I whisper the truth we both recognize.

“I know.”

“Is this harder because Lee cried when he said goodbye to you this time?” Timo purses his lips then nods. “Yeah. That sucked.” I roll onto my side. “You’re such a good daddy.” I soothe him, stroking vertically along his torso. “He’s going to adjust. He’s in a clingy phase right now.”

“Did he cry when you left?”

“Yeah. I had to sneak out of the house while my mom distracted him with his stuffed puppy.” A soft smile stretches his lips.

“I love our kid.” He leans forward, asking for my lips.

“Me too.” I murmur against his mouth. He sighs into our kiss.

“That made me feel better for some reason.”

“You feel comforted knowing I’m also doing damage to our son. He’ll talk about us both in therapy.”

“Yeah, kinda.” He laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to pull me up into his chest. He strokes my hair, then kisses the crown of my head.

“I can’t believe Nico didn’t come over with how hard the headboard was slamming against the wall at the end. He rooms next to me.” My face turns white, mouth dropping open in horror.

“What?”

“Just kidding.. He’s at dinner. I was trying to tell you I saw him in the elevator so we were clear. But then you opened your legs and I didn’t remember what I was gonna say.”

“T!” I yell, slapping his pec. “You got me all scared.”

“What that you’re in trouble with your little brother for fucking your husband?”

“No, that he was gonna come kill you cause he heard you with someone.”

“As always, you’re worth the risk baby.” I can’t help but laugh at his cheery smile.

“Do fornicaters usually eat afterwards?” I wonder, feeling the rumbling of my stomach.

“I don’t think so, but nothing about that was adultery, so I think we are safe to order something.” He reaches around me to the nightstand. He studies the menu while I study his face.

“Lee and I are so lucky.” I murmur, stroking his jaw where light, brown stubble dusts his cut chin. “So glad you are my baby’s daddy.” I press my lips on the underside of his chin. Timo pulls me in closer, dropping the menu to wrap both arms around me.

“I’m the lucky one. I love you, Em.”

After ordering room service, and eating entirely too much food, we both fall back into bed, watching Pretty Woman play out on USA Network. Timo strokes my hair. Each pass over the strands has my eyes dipping closed longer and longer with every blink. The room goes black when Timo turns the TV off for good. His arms curl me into him deeper.

“Don’t even think about rolling away from me during the night.” I smile against the skin of his shoulder. I press myself further into his chest. His fingers dig more into my back. A silence falls over us.

“T?” I murmur after awhile.

“Mmm?” Its barely an acknowledgment.

“You love me so well. Lee too. I hope you know how much we love you in return. And miss you when you’re gone.” I squeeze his back. “I think I’m here as much for myself as I am for you.” He leans down, searching for my lips in the darkness. When they connect, we both melt into each other.

“I love you so much.” His whisper has a depth I’ve never heard before. The deep darkness of the room adds an intimacy and safeness to us.

Neither one of us needs to say anything else. Instead, our bodies awaken. Our fingers wander. Our lips greedily take until we have each other like husband and wife- familiar and knowing. Soothing, briefly, the eternal ache we have for each other that I know is never going to diminish.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Emma X Timo Meier #Timo Meier smut #my writing #hockey fan fiction #hockey writing #NHL writing

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thewritersofdeceased · 1 year

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ཧᜰ꙰ꦿ➢ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ.. ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ..༒

NOT AN X READER!! BUT JUST AN IDEA!!

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.." A tired voice sang out. Tears fell down who seemed to be the toughest kid in all of Denver. The kid no one dared to mess with. But here sat Vance Hopper. The blonde sat alone in the basement of The Grabber, the man who had already taken two boys before him. Griffin Stagg, the boy who was invisible the whole time he was alive. And Billy Showalter. Paperboy. As Vance remembered him as. He took a shaky breath in ,tears continuing to fall down the boy's bloodied face.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.." He continued to sing, his knees close to his chest. He wanted to go home. Even if he was a delinquent, all Vance wanted to do was go home and act like everything was fine. He knew he wasn't going home. Not when The Grabber had made that perfectly clear. The constant "I almost let you out" he heard from the masked man shattered his heart completely. He knew he wasn't leaving anytime soon. So in his eyes, it was just pathetic to hear that, or even think he was leaving. He learnt that lesson last time he tried to leave.

The feeling of a stupid belt.. That shit hurt so much, he felt like he couldn't move for weeks. When he had his nose broken, god he cried like a bitch. His eyes watered. It felt like it was getting pierced. But ten times worse. His tears continued to fall, as he softly continued to sing that stupid birthday song. He knew it was his birthday. He just knew. His eyes continued to fill to the brim with tears, before he rolled to lay on his side, himself basically curling into a ball. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.."

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR VANCE.." He cried out, slowly starting to hiccup on his words. He could feel himself stuttering and crying. Everything hurt. From his bloody nose, to all the welts on his back from the feeling of a belt.. The only thought on his mind was his family. For once. Not even pinball crossed his mind. Well, maybe once or twice. But his main goal was going home. Home, praying his parents would be glad he was okay. Well. At least him mom. His dad and him had a rocky relationship.. Mainly with his dad being a cop... Long story. He usually was the one to always be called to the scene Vance caused. Just recently. At least he thought recently, it was the Grab N'Go.. That's another story for another day.

His eyes tightly closed, his body curled on himself, Vance could feel approaching him, and slowly but surely, it was The Grabber's. His head lifted slightly, before dropping right back onto the mattress he laid on. The Grabber held what seemed to be a knife tightly in his hand, but Vance didn't even notice at first glance. His eyes just closed. /The/Vance Hopper, had given up. After months of eating, he'd given up. Finally.

As he felt his heart beat begin to quicken, but he didn't dare lift his head. Seconds later, there was nothing. The Grabber had done. it. The third victim. He smiled under the mask, staring at the bloodied mess he'd done. No longer did Vance look so awake. The blood from the boys neck dripped down onto the once white shirt. The Grabber said nothing, just let out small laughs. Talk about crazy..

#the black phone x reader #the black phone imagine #vance hopper #vance hopper the black phone #the black phone #happy birthday to you #vance hopper x reader #bruce yamada #robin arellano #billy showalter #griffin stagg #finney blake #gwendolyn blake

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tragidean · 16 days

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lust [2.3k] (ao3)

One hour. The distance between Fort Morgan and Denver feels like a chasm, like a gaping hole that no matter how hard Dean tries, he’ll never be able to cross, at least not in this shape. Sweating, antsy, with a thirst water can’t quell, with an ache no amount of self-soothing will heal. Every few minutes, he stops his frantic pacing and steps before the bathroom mirror, hands braced against the countertop, hips dangerously close to the sink. Red heats his cheeks—sweat beads at his hairline, soaking the nape of his neck, the collar of his shirt. It’s not a curse, he tries to tell himself. But the thing sitting in his groin tells him otherwise, warming him at his core and offering no reprieve. Sam’ll be back soon. But for the life of him, he can’t remember when Sam originally left the motel with the Impala, or when he said he would be back. Something about a lead on how to kill Lucifer, something that he needed to investigate alone, whatever that means. But Sam left him in a predicament. Sam left him alone, and Castiel won’t answer his calls, won’t even acknowledge the lone prayer he eked out when no one was looking. He’ll know what to do, Dean thinks, wipes his face with a washcloth. Again, for what feels like the tenth time, he begins to pace the shag carpet, walking from the motel door and past the two double beds, to the sink, then back again in a path that would wear a mark in the carpet, if it weren’t older than him to begin with. He checks the beds, the nightstand, the lampshades. The dresser drawers come up empty, and nothing hides under the desk or in any hidden cubby hole. If someone left a hex bag, then it must be in the ceiling, or the carpet, or in the JVC television set sitting atop a small table. It’s not a curse, he tries again, knowing full and well that it’s a lie. He throws his pillow across the room, then Sam’s. Lifts the mattresses, checks to see if there’s any holes in the box springs. He sweats, staining his shirt; his mouth waters; he craves, in a way that his hand won’t satisfy. “Cas,” he says, quiet. Alone and terrified, he stands before the sink, white knuckling the manufactured marble vanity. His hands shake; he breathes, deep and long, letting it out through his nose. “Don’t know what’s up, but I—I got a problem, man.” No reply. In bare feet, Dean stands there, watching his reflection, then bows his head. Praying has never worked, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t ignore it, can’t talk himself out of it. Something’s wrong, and if Castiel can’t cure him, then—

continue reading on ao3

#my writing #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #hello all welcome to pwp wednesday apparently!!#you know you wanna read!!

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vanilla3ented · 1 year

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Nothing - Vance Hopper x Gn Reader.

❝ Dumb conversations, we loose track of time. Have I told you lately, I'm grateful you're mine ❞

It's raining in Denver and what better way to cheer Vance up with Cuddles

Warning: Fluff, cuteness, wholesome

🍡★✬ᕯ

It's raining in Denver, meaning there's only such little things to do and obviously your boyfriend, Vance was pissed off since he couldn't go play his favourite game of pinball. You tried telling him that he could still go just that he had to make sure he was warm and covered up but like his stubborn self he went against it saying I quote 'hell no! I'm not getting my hair wet!'

So here you are, snuggled up with your boyfriend on your sofa while watching Scooby Doo, your fingers were carefully stroking Vance's blonde curls as he laid his head on your chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist. A big fluffy F/C blanket was over Vance trying to keep him warm.

You loved how soft Vance was when you guys were alone or especially on rainy days, he was honestly the cutest in your opinion. You turn your head, looking at Vance as he was still watching the Tv. Your hands gently made their way to Vance front curls and lifted it up, enough for you to lightly pressing a kiss to his exposed forehead making him lightly look up to you.

"...You missed" he commented making you let out a soft laugh, you placed your hand softly under his chin and gently lifted him up to your lips, softly kissing him.

As you pulled away you raised your eyebrow playfully "That better?" You asked fighting the urge to chuckle, he nodded before pushing himself lightly more towards you so he could lean into the crook of your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your skin.

"are you tired?" You asked whispering softly into his ear as your hand softly strokes his back making him visibly relax

"....Maybe" the way his tone changed when he replied made you laugh

"wanna go to my bedroom and take a nap?" You asked softly stroking his hair, he shook his head

"No" he mumbled as his face was still stuck into the crook of your neck, you just kept playing with his hair and placing kisses on his forehead

You two just layer there for a couple of minutes before you felt the need to go the toilet, making you mentally curse. Vance was now asleep but he was a light sleeper so you could either hold it or deal with a grumpy and moody Vance

'Oh fuck it, Sorry Vance' you thought before trying to removed Vance's arm from around your waist but immediately his grip gets tighter

"mmm..what are y'doing?" He grumbled while his eyes are still closed and he moved around a bit but not making it any easier for you to move out of his grip

"Vance, baby, I need the toilet so could you--please?" You asked trying to gently remove his hands but it only made him groan slightly but he moved.

After coming back, you saw Vance was now fully awake making you feel slightly guilty. You say back down on the sofa

"I thought you'd be back asleep?" You questioned, he shook his head slightly "No, I couldn't"

"I'm sorry baby, I need it badly" You chuckled quietly, he raised his eyebrow at you "why you laughing?" He asked slightly irritated

"Vance, you're basically stomping your feet like a child" I pointed out, being him back to lay on your chest gently, giving his forehead lots of kisses making sure to land some on his lips too.

"Y/N"

"Yes Vance?"

"Don't tell anyone...I'love you"

"I love you too Vance, so much"

"...don't make it too cheesy"

#vance hopper #bruce yamada #finney blake #robin arellano #vamcehopper x reader #Spotify

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avalanchesumich · 10 months

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mastermind at

november 27

it was the first day of classes since thanksgiving break, and cameron was about ready to curl up in a ball and cry.

she hadn’t touched any of the assignments she said she’d do over break, and now she had even tighter deadlines to meet.

on top of that; she had yet to see gabe. she texted him all through out break, and they face timed for a while last night, but it wasn’t the same.

that’s how she found herself knocking on the door of his dorm. her shoulders dropped when will opened the door.

“it’s open!” she heard someone shout from the inside, so she let herself in.

“baby!” gabe grinned. he threw his pillow across the room at will as the blonde boy mocked him. gabe jumped down from the bed, catching the pillow that flew back at him. he and cam met in the middle of the room, her laughing loudly as he lifted her up and turned her around.

the two of them completely (and unintentionally) ignored will as he said he would be literally anywhere else until later.

gabe went to put cam back on her feet, but her arms wrung tighter around him, not wanting to let go yet. she shoved her face into the crook of his neck and inhaled, before she pulled away.

“hi,” she whispered, a small smile on her face as they locked eyes. “how was your week.”

“it was okay,” gabe shrugged. “missed you a lot. how was your week?”

“i missed you,” cam nodded in agreement. “it was good. me and my parents went up to denver to see cale. it was nice to see them for the first time since school.”

“i bet,” gabe nodded in understanding. “how was it with cale? did you guys talk it out more?”

“yeah,” cam nodded. “pretty sure both my mom and his fiancée smacked some sense into him,” cam laughed lightly. “but yeah, we talked and now he isn’t so harsh about it.”

“good,” gabe smiled, feeling a weight lift off his chest. his feelings for cam grew stronger everyday, and all he wanted was the family’s approval, but ever since cam told them, it seemed like it wouldn’t come.

“don’t think he’s your biggest fan though,” cam rolled her eyes. “he’s still my big brother after all.”

“i expect no less,” gabe sighed. “do you have any plans right now?”

“no,” cam shook her head. “just wanted to see you.”

gabe grinned at her words, making her rosy cheeks even more prominent. “i like the sound of that, makar.”

“don’t get too cocky, perreault,” cam teased. “i’ll still leave.”

gabe scoffed and lifted the girl bridal style, and dropped her on the bed. “absolutely not,” he denied. “we haven’t taken one of our naps in a whole week.”

cam laughed as he climbed into the bed beside her, him practically on top of her from how small the dorm bed was, forgetting about her mood prior to coming to see gabe.

#mastermind!au #gabe perreault x makar!sister

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mischfacialplasticus · 1 year

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Neck Lift in Denver | Misch Facial Plastic Surgery

A neck lift is a surgical procedure that is designed to address signs of aging in the neck area. At Misch Facial Plastic Surgery in Denver, this procedure is performed by a qualified and experienced surgeon who specializes in facial plastic surgery.

During a neck lift procedure, the surgeon will typically make incisions behind the ears and under the chin in order to access the muscles and tissue in the neck area. Excess skin and fat may be removed, and the remaining tissue may be tightened to create a more youthful and defined appearance.

This procedure may be recommended for patients who are experiencing sagging skin, wrinkles, or a "turkey neck" appearance in the neck area. It is often performed in combination with other facial procedures, such as a facelift or brow lift, in order to achieve a more comprehensive rejuvenation of the face and neck.

At Misch Facial Plastic Surgery, patients can expect personalized care and attention from the initial consultation through the recovery process. The surgeon will work with each patient to determine the most appropriate treatment plan based on their unique needs and goals, and will provide guidance and support throughout the entire process. https://www.mischfacialplastics.com/neck-lift

#Neck Lift in Denver #Neck Lift in Colorado #neck lift plastic surgeon in Colorado #neck lift plastic surgeon in Denver

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pick-em-pool · 2 years

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WEEK 3

WOW. Wow, wow, wow, wow, WOW. wOw. wow. Right now, the football world is abuzz with the makings of a wild, prediction-defying season 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️. There's the surprise ascendency of the red-hot Eagles & Dolphins, the only remaining 3-0 teams. There was the David & Goliath upset of Indianapolis over Buffalo. And who can forget the soon-to-be-infamous "Butt Punt"?

Not to be outdone, Season 3 of the pick-em-pool has been just as surprising. Let's dive into who has their eyes on the money 💲💲💲 and who is getting left in the dust 💨💨💨

JJ - 9 POINTS ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, Jean Jacques Daigneault had THE MOST POINTS THIS WEEK 🎉🎊🎉🎊 I repeat, JJ's TOP performance has lifted him into third place 🚨🚨🚨 This is not a drill 🚨🚨🚨 Somebody please check the sky for flying pigs 🐖 Is this performance the start of something new, or will JJ be a one-hit-wonder? 🎤 Only time will tell!

RUSTY - 9 POINTS ⭐⭐⭐⭐

OK now I'm just convinced I counted wrong. The Boys in The Back have returned... TO BE THIS WEEK'S CHAMPIONS 😱😱😱 Rusty is FOCUSED this season and could be a serious contender for the top prize 🤔🤔🤔 There is nothing that could distract him. NOPE, not even a large handle of Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey. With Northern Neck Ginger Ale. And a lime. Shipped to 4239 Naylor's Beach Road, Warsaw VA 22572. Nope. Definitely would not distract him.

Juliette - 9 POINTS ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Ahhh, I knew it was simply a matter of time before things started to make sense this week 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♂️🧘‍♀️ After all the craziness of JJ and Rusty, we're back on track with Janie having another stellar week. Janie has been such a consistent... umm... wait a second... JULIETTE??? 😨 THE SURPRISES CONTINUE PEOPLE as the Arizona Amphibian rolls in with NINE POINTS. Dis gurl is certainly not having a very mid season. Can she keep it up? Might be a lil sus. Those nine points hit different. gang.

Lisa - 8 POINTS ⭐⭐⭐

Not to be outdone, Lisa raked in 8 points while moving just one point behind the leader 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️ nailing the Denver upset and the Dallas victory 🤠🤠🤠 What's even more impressive is that she's been able to get her picks in while she's out on tour. That's right. The PGA Tour ⛳🏌️‍♀️🏌️‍♂️ All Lisa needs to do is add 317 yards to her driver shot and she's basically Tiger Woods. And also land on the fairway. and also do it without 6 do-overs.

Peyton - 8 POINTS ⭐⭐⭐

OK OK it was fun to have Peyton join up the season but c'mon now he's actually WINNING 🤬 The rest of us chumps have been sitting around doing these picks for 2 years, and then Mr. Peyton just strolls in, whacks his head on the top of the door frame, and takes the top spot 🥇🥇🥇 I'm starting to feel like maybe we aren't as good at picking teams as we thought we were! As of right now, the commissioner is launching an official investigation into how Peyton has reached the top spot in his first three weeks 🕵️‍♂️🕵️‍♂️🕵️‍♂️ You better hope you've got nothing to hide sir, or that you have a lot of money you're willing to bribe me with 💰💰💰 haha, totally just kidding (my Venmo is @Logan-Ziegler)

Sing - 7 POINTS ⭐⭐

He's been solid for 3 weeks now, but we'll have to wait and see how long he can keep it up 😳😳😳 Because fall is here, and Uncle Sing might be too busy recreating Bambi to be watching football 🏹🏹🏹 (Yes, I saw Bambi. Yes, I cried when the mom died. Yes, I still love meat like a fat kid loves Twinkies)

Abby - 7 POINTS ⭐⭐

My favorite psychologist did a bit better this week, with a NICE call on the Atlanta victory 🦅🦅🦅 I'm sure this is the LAST thing on her mind though, as she's probably having an end-of-the-world party in Florida right now 💃 it's a BAD day to be a bottle of Mango New Amsterdam Vodka 🍾 here's a live look at Abby trying to call an Uber home from the bar in the middle of Hurricane Ian:

VAL - 7 POINTS ⭐⭐

Well she ain't moving up but she ain't moving down! Val clings to 3rd place, heading straight for another 7 point performance just like her bowling balls head straight for the gutter 🎳🎳🎳 a little birdie actually told me that she's QUITE good at bowling. I'll never know, because I'm never gonna play her: The last thing I need is for lawyer Val Bader Ginsberg to whoop my ass on the lanes 😎😎😎 You'd catch me jumping OFF one of those yellow bridges they've got over at Pitt 👋

Gabby - 7 POINTS ⭐⭐

A slight misstep brings Gabby down to 3rd place (really, who picks PITTSBURGH, am I right?!?! Still bitter they let me down 😒) However, more important things are happening. Like how my most beautimus wife is getting REALLY good at golf ⛳ If I have to watch her get any better I'm giving up Golf along with Bowling. The last thing I need is for this smoking hot chick to smack me around the back 9 for an hour. I have a fragile ego people!

Janie - 6 POINTS ⭐

BIG TREE, FALL HARD 😳😳😳 Sorry Janie, I'm just going to have to rub it in for all of us now, we've had enough of you CRUSHING us 👊👊👊 She must still be sneaking off to Rockbar for a 9:12 AM bloody mary 🍹 every day, her thinking is impaired! I wouldn't count her out just yet though. I saw her in the great Gabby-Janie Putt Putt battle of 2022, and I'm still afraid 🥴

Logan - 5 POINTS 😬

Football is stupid and I hate everything.

Alright folks that will just about do us for this week! I love the exciting developments we've had and can't wait to see who's going to win the big bucks 💲💲💲 Until next week everyone! 👋👋👋

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horsesandhockeyplayers · 2 years

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Fourth Line Grinder-- Part 11

Author’s Note: This beautiful header is courtesy of @whatishockey and her brilliant creative mind. We continue with ALL NEW content as EJ and Nell figure out their relationship. Please see the masterlist post to see the 2019 Pacific Classic as an example race

Word Count: 5118

Word Count TOTAL: 65,488

Song: Dark Horse - Aaron Watson

Synopsis: Nell Sayer, often called The Witch for her ability to heal horses that are deemed lost causes, is content with her life. With a job where she makes a good living and her two best friends, Nell is unprepared for the changes a meeting with a once-in-a-lifetime horse and his incorrigible owner brings, knocking her off her feet…literally. If only she were as good at listening to her heart as she is at listening to the animals she loves.

Tag List: @laurenairay, @danglesnipecelly, @hockeylvr59, @whatishockey, @thebookofmags, @princessphilly, @glassdanse, @tippedbykreider, @iangiemae, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @marcoscandellas, @mac-blackwood, @fanficrecsby-e

Part 11

The feeling of kisses being pressed along my naked spine woke me. True to my word I had accompanied Erik to Denver when he signed the papers for the property. I was staying at his modest Denver home for four days before flying back to San Diego.

Grinder came out of the Eddie Read with no issues, in fact he was so fit he was beginning to get rambunctious in a way that had Dick considering what to do with him if he qualified for the Breeder’s Cup in the Pacific Classic. There were two full months between qualifying and actually racing in the Longines Classic.

But that was a problem for another day. Thick fingers slipped between my vaginal lips and I moaned into the mattress. EJ pushed two fingers inside me and down to probe my G spot while his thumb rubbed my clit. I came in record time as he laughed against my shoulder blades, his hand following my gyrating hips as I shook from the orgasm.

Mile high sunshine was starting to filter into the bedroom and I knew from experience it couldn’t be much past 5am.

Erik kneeled between my spread legs and he lifted my boneless body onto all fours by my hips. We both moaned as the head of his cock slid inside me. His pace was languid and lazy as he slid a hand between my breasts and lifted me up pressing my back against his chest.

I raised my arms and clasped them behind his head, pulling him down for a kiss. I liked any kind of sex with Erik, but I loved these relaxed mornings, lazy fucking and morning breath until we had our fill of orgasms and hunger sent us to the kitchen for breakfast. It was messy and wet and I made a mental note to get a generous gift card for his housekeeper.

He continued his lazy thrusts, his hand sliding down my body and across my lower stomach like he could feel his dick inside me. Continuing down, he swirled his middle finger around my clit and snapped his hips into mine. His voice was low in my ear, “I like it when you cum on my fingers, I love it when you cum on my cock.. You gonna cum for me, Peaches?”

I shivered at his breath on my earlobe and proceeded to shatter into a million pieces in his arms. Praise slipping from his lips, “That’s my good girl,” as he fucked me hard through my orgasm, chasing his own.

When I felt his cock twitch inside me, he buried his face into the crook of my neck as he groaned through his release.

The sun had long crested the horizon, bathing our kneeling naked bodies in golden light and I knew he looked like a god dipped in starshine.

He collapsed into a mattress that seriously felt like sleeping on a cloud, he twisted as he fell and I landed on top of him, his soft cock regretfully sliding out of me.

My muscles felt like warmed jello and I was putting more effort than should have been necessary into not drooling all over his smooth chest.

Within a few minutes he was snoring softly again and I watched the sun climb across the sky through the floor to ceiling east facing windows.

When relieving myself became more urgent than laying on top of 240lbs of prime Colorado beef, I tried to slip off of him as quietly as possible and ended up getting tangled in the sheet and falling off the bed in a heap.

Erik sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair tousled from sleep and my fingers. The sheet was still tucked around his body and I found myself staring at his well sculpted torso. I blinked when he spoke, “Peaches? What are you doing on the floor?”

I sighed and leaned into his hand as he stroked my hair, “trying not to wake you up,” I replied in defeat.

He glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist, “We need to get a move on anyway. We have an appointment to walk to the farm and sign documents at 9 before it gets too hot.”

With frustrating ease he got out of bed and picked me up off the floor in one motion. As the sheet unwrapped from his body I was left clutching it to my chest staring at his ass as he walked into the palacious bathroom.

His whole house was just like him, annoyingly practical while being exuberant. It was an older home in the established but monied neighborhood of Cherry Creek. It was a traditional style that had been updated from the dated granite and honey oak cabinets. A photo of Erik and his Grandmother from when he first purchased showed the mid nineties decor. It was now clean and masculine with large dark furniture.

I heard the shower start and I felt warmth start in my belly thinking about that thing EJ could do with the showerhead.

Two hours later, my hair was still damp and hanging around my face, I had a venti triple shot latte cradled in my hands and I was feeling less like a blob of hot jello and more like a human being.

Erik of course had a sensible SUV and he drove toward the Rocky Mountains, the houses getting larger and farther apart. Flat city streets turned into two lane highways and rolling hills. Eventually, we turned and wove our way through the foothills until we reached a small valley. The entrance to the farm was marked with giant stone pillars and a beautiful iron gate that was open. The long tree lined driveway bisected two large pastures.

A small band of quarter horse broodmares and their foals snorted at the strange vehicle and trotted around the irrigated grass, their tails held high.

The property was well maintained and dotted with large trees, both natural pines and trees that were planted when the place was developed. The mountains rose steeply to the west.

I rolled down the window and the air just smelled like mountains, “What’s the elevation here?”

“Ummm..” Erik hesitated fingers, drumming on the steering wheel, “just over 6,000 feet I think? I’d have to check.”

It was a good 10 degrees cooler than Denver and I was regretting not bringing a jacket. We passed the breeding barn and I craned my neck trying to see inside. He chuckled and reached for my hand, “Peaches, you’ll get to see inside, I promise.”

The main barn was a massive structure in the Monitor style. There was a beautiful fountain in the front courtyard with a bronze rearing horse sculpture in the middle. There were ten stalls on either side with long forty foot runs coming out the back. The center of the barn had two clusters of 4 double sized stalls,with a tack room, wash stalls, and grooming cross ties.

Erik parked the SUV by the front entrance and I clambered out of the car and made my way inside the huge structure waving my hands in acknowledgment of whatever he was saying and not hearing a damn word. The stalls were huge 14x14 at least, with protruding European stall fronts that allowed even more room. The small Quarter Horses hung their heads over the fronts and I came to the conclusion I couldn’t have designed a better barn. Whoever built this place did so with the intent it was comfortable and functional for the horses.

Beyond the barn was a fully covered arena. It wasn’t the largest, but it was large enough for a full dressage court. It was attached to the barn with a covered walkway and textured rubber bricks for traction.

Erik caught up to me, “The realtor is just a few minutes late. What do you think?”

I leaned into him and sighed with contentment, “It’s perfect.”

When Erik disappeared into the office to sign papers I once again began to wander. I stopped in front of a sweet looking Palomino gelding, “You seem pretty content to live here, huh guy?”

He sighed and cocked a hind hoof to continue his morning nap.

“Can I help you?”

I turned toward the voice and there was a drug store box redhead whose Aquanet style would have made Dolly Parton jealous, “I’m sorry my… partner, just bought the place, he’s signing paperwork in the office.”

Her face changed and her southern accent became a lot more pronounced, “Hi there! I’m Peggy, my husband is Shane, he’s the trainer. Have you gotten a tour yet?”

“Just from the photos on the Internet I’m afraid.”

She scoffed, “Best way to get a tour is on horseback, you ride?”

“Just racehorses every day,” I answered with a smile.

“Think you can handle an old Quarter Horse,” she gestured to the sleeping Palomino behind me.

“I can’t remember the last time I rode something that didn’t want to kill me.”

She gestured to the pink halter by the door, “he’s my daughter’s horse. His name is Earl. Come on, I’ll give you an appropriate tour.”

20 minutes later, Earl was decked out head to toe in everything pink glitter and we were plodding next to Peggy on a fiery chestnut reiner. “How old is your daughter?”

She laughed, “10 and really loves pink in case you couldn’t tell.”

I sucked air through my teeth and nodded, “Yep. Thank goodness Earl doesn’t seem to think it’s an attack on his masculinity.”

“Earl here is the best babysitter I could have ever hoped to get.”

It became clear 5 minutes in that Peggy was a Talker with a capital T. But it wasn’t a hardship to listen to her as we rode the galloping track and she pointed out trail access points into the adjoining state park.

Suddenly, I could picture my life here and the vision was so clear I felt like I had been thrust five years into the future. Riding Grinder along these very trails, the pastures dotted with Thoroughbred mares and their foals. The main barn full of rehabbing horses and racetrack failures training for dressage and jumping or even out on these trails for endurance.

My phone trilled in my pocket with William Tell’s Overture and I dug it out of my pocket, “Hey Handsome.”

“Where did you disappear to?”

“Your tenant for the next few months offered me a tour.” Earl shook a rogue fly from his ear.

EJ gave a sigh, but I could hear his smile, “Are you on a horse?”

“Yes. His name is Earl.”

“You can’t keep Earl.”

“Of course I’m not keeping Earl. I’m not in the business of breaking little girls' hearts,” I scoffed.

Peggy turned her head and giggled into her hand and the chestnut mare she was on shook her mane.

“We’re on our way back.”

His voice was tinny on the other end, “Good. I don’t think Grinder would be happy if I went back to California without you.”

I rolled my eyes, “See you in a few.”

Peggy and I finished our impromptu horseback tour and I gave Earl a thorough grooming while Erik chatted with Peggy and Shane. I fished a tired peppermint out of my pocket when I returned him to his stall and the cellophane was almost impossible to peel off the sticky treat but he waited patiently.

I gave the golden gelding a pat and ruffled his forelock as he munched, his breath smelling like hay and mint. “Thanks for taking care of me today Big Man.”

Joining the small group I lifted Erik’s arm and slid underneath it. His shirt smelled like horse and sunshine with the faint hint of his laundry detergent. I got lost in my imagination looking around the barn thinking about where I was going to put my equipment, which stall would be Grinder’s, which of Erik’s broodmares I wanted to bring in first. Basically, building my business and the ERJ racing breeding operation in my head.

I got a hip in my side and EJ shook my shoulder realizing I wasn’t paying attention, “Did you like it?”

“Of course, it’s a beautiful property,” I replied nodding.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I took the case off and retrieved a sad and wrinkled business card that was pressed between the phone and the case, handing it to Peggy. “If your daughter ever becomes more interested in boys than horses, you give me a call and you can name your price for Earl.”

The redhead laughed as her husband growled, “She’s not dating until she’s 40.”

Erik just sighed, “I knew it.”

I gave him an elbow in the ribs, “Grinder will need a retirement buddy.”

We all shook hands and EJ pulled me toward the SUV, “I’m taking her home before she tries to buy all your horses.”

Peggy offered a wave as we got into the vehicle, “Y’all can come help Earl stretch his legs anytime!”

As we made our way down the beautiful driveway, I pulled one of EJ’s hands off the wheel and wove my fingers through his, giving a contented sigh.

He pressed his lips against my knuckles, “Are you going to buy every horse you fall in love with?”

I grinned and pulled my eyes from the stunning view flying by the window, “We can afford it.”

A small smile curled the corner of his lips and I enjoyed the Colorado Summer air as we headed back into town.

—————

Things started to fall into place as I stopped fighting with Erik, with myself, with the universe. I had decided to just let life take me where it wanted and if it all fell apart? Well I was certainly more wealthy than I had been, I had invested a lot of the money back into equipment to help me help more horses, I had Jesus and it would suck for awhile, but I would build everything back up again.

Grinder continued to train like a machine and we enjoyed our afternoons in the California sunshine.

I was sitting on him bareback as he grazed, just wearing a halter, the lead rope over his withers and dangling loose down his shoulder. My eyes were closed and I was meditating, breathing in and out to the count of his ripping and chewing of the grass.

To the shock of absolutely no one except myself, I found taking some time during my day to focus and center myself just for the sake of myself actually improved my work. Any lingering headaches soon completely disappeared.

EJ was fully on board with this new “Nell Takes Care of Herself” movement and regardless of time he was always pressing some sort of smoothie in my hand before I left the house in the mornings. I never asked what was in them because they were always palatable if not actually delicious and I didn’t want the illusion ruined knowing I was drinking raw blended chicken gizzards or something weird.

August on the Southern California Coast was absolutely gorgeous, foggy mornings gave way to mid afternoon sunshine and temps in the 80s. Erik was ramping up his training and come the end of the month, I knew he would be spending more of his time in Colorado than California.

My meditation fell apart as I began to worry about what was to come. We hadn’t talked about when I would be joining EJ in Colorado. Peggy and Shane had the property rented through December. But we had discussed bringing some of our horses earlier as they were only using a fraction of the stalls. They were looking for places close by and Peggy and I had a plan to keep their show stock on so they could utilize the covered arena in the winter. I was getting daily photos of Earl from her daughter Daisy and they almost always featured some sort of costume or hat. He really was the best babysitter.

Grinder snorted and shook his head bringing me back to the present. It was still midsummer and we had time. I pulled the big gelding’s head up from the grass and pointed him back to the barns, enjoying the feel of his large swinging walk.

My phone vibrated on my belt and seeing EJ’s dumb toothless face on my screen I swiped to answer it, “Hey, Grinder and I are just heading back to the barn.”

He cleared his throat, “Would you consider yourself a perfectionist?”

I felt my face scrunch, “Not really, but that’s a weird question.”

He hummed, “Ok what about a planner, would you consider yourself one of those?”

One of Grinder’s elegant black ears flicked back, listening to the conversation, “No more than anyone else? Erik, what’s up with the questions?”

I heard paper rustling in the background, “oh nothing I just found large, to scale drawings of all the barns with the names of horses in each stall, locations of your equipment, you even have a list of where each saddle is going to go in the tack room.”

My throat suddenly felt a little scratchy and I coughed, my voice a little high when I replied, “Um that is normal.”

“It’s not but ok, we can start making a plan after dinner, a lot of these mares I don’t want to haul out until after their breedings next season and we confirm they are in foal. Some I’d like to unload at auction.”

I sighed at having been caught, “Ok. I’ll be home in about an hour, do you want me to pick up dinner?”

Dishes clanked in the background, “Nah, Peaches, it’s lean protein and vegetables tonight.”

Wrinkling my nose, I made a mental note to pick up some Ben and Jerry’s on the way. I didn’t have to worry about being a professional athlete.

I felt better when I followed EJ’s diet with him, but at what cost?

When I got back to the Del Mar condo, pint of ice cream in my hand, he was in the kitchen cooking away, dish towel swung over his shoulder looking like he was the main course.

I tossed the dessert in the freezer and snagged the big man around the waist for a kiss. He gave me a pouty look, “I suppose you didn’t bring a pint for me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said feigning innocence.

He just raised a brow, and we settled into our little slice of domesticity. I sat at the island going through emails, texts, and pouring over my schedule while he cooked.

After dinner, he spread the plans on the kitchen island, “Shane and I have been talking, and I think they are going to move into that small house by the broodmare barn for the foreseeable future. We are going to have way more available stalls than we know what to do with for awhile and I don’t think having them on the property is a bad idea for a little extra income.”

I started erasing all the names I had written into the stalls, “I agree.”

EJ put an arm around my shoulders, his voice soft, “When do you want to move in?”

Frowning, I shifted in my chair. I had been expecting this conversation to happen at some point. “I don’t know. I mean there’s so much to do to get all the horses you want to winter out there ready. We have to buy blankets, order feed, bedding, we have to have guys on the ground ready for horses, we have to have guys here ready to pack up horses. There’s so much Erik.”

He kissed my temple, “It’s only August, Peaches, we have time.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said, leaning into his kiss.

A large hand pulled the elastic out of my hair, “I am happy that you’re thinking about it though.” His voice dropped and the air became charged.

I offered a hum in response as his blunt fingers began to massage my scalp.

——

As August ticked by and we settled even more into a routine, even with EJ starting to spend more and more time in Colorado, to the point, I didn’t know what was going to happen when the season started. It would be questionable if he would even be available the day of the Breeder’s Cup, but first Grinder had to qualify.

The days marched toward Grinder’s first grade 1 stakes in his entire life and when race day arrived I was an odd mixture of nervous and confident.

Grinder’s story had spread among the race community and there was a feature article in that week’s Racing Forum about our weird little family. The horse no one wanted to take a chance on, the miracle worker, and the hockey player that was entranced by my witchy wiles.

Like all days on the California coast, this one dawned bright and perfect. After an early morning hack around the track property to stretch his muscles, I was banned from seeing Grinder before the race.

I sat in my truck in the parking lot, unsure of what to do with myself. I hadn’t booked any clients for the day, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on them, and I was right. Erik had a handful of interviews to give and he left it up to me whether I was going to be tucked into his side like the dutiful girlfriend or throwing up in a trash can from nerves around the corner.

EJ climbed into the passenger seat without a word and handed me a large paper cup with a lid. I took the warm beverage gratefully and took a sip. I was expecting espresso mixed with milk and yummy syrup and I got something else entirely. He chuckled when I made a face.

“It’s herbal tea, Peaches. You don’t need anymore caffeine to tie your stomach in knots.”

I took another sip with a generous shrug because he was probably right.

Next, a breakfast burrito and a race program with a $100 bill tucked into it slid onto the center console of the truck.

My brow arched and I got a wiley grin in return.

“You had a smoothie at 5am. Eat the burrito and then we are going to play a little game.”

“I’m listening,” I replied before taking a bite of the egg-y, cheesy, potato-y goodness wrapped in a tortilla.

His grin got impressively wider, “There’s a handful of claiming races on tomorrow’s card, what you win handicapping with this $100 bill today, you will use to buy the horse of your choice tomorrow.”

I inhaled a piece of potato and started choking, “What?”

Erik gave me a slap on the back and I felt the piece of potato dislodge from my throat, “You need to be distracted and this will be a challenge, even for you.” He settled into the leather seat and reclined it, “better get crackin’ on that program, the cheapest claimer tomorrow is $7500 and the first post is in an hour.”

Staring at the $100 bill tucked into the program, I chewed thoughtfully. Turning $100 into enough to buy a horse with? How did he even get this idea?

Keeping the bill safely between the pages of the racing program I picked it up and thumbed to the first race.

An hour and a half later, Grinder was only occupying the furthest recesses of my mind as the horses of the first race flashed under the wire, in the exact order I picked them for the straight trifecta. I had just quadrupled my money.

EJ twisted his program in his hands and squinted at me from beneath the brim of his fashionable hat, “Should I call Gabe and just tell him I’m retiring now?”

I smacked him in the chest and disappeared to collect my winnings.

By the time The Pacific Classic was called to the post, I was up several thousand and I had put the whole kit and kaboodle on Grinder whose odds were reasonable at 10 to 1.

I had tucked the betting slip into my bra for safe keeping and idly wondered if it was still worth anything soaked in boob sweat. A large hand spanned the small of my back and I could feel the heat of the palm through the dress I had changed into. It was a simple jersey wrap around in a bright royal blue that matched the ERJ Racing silks. I had paired it with a suede heeled bootie and some hammered silver earrings and pendant. It was simple, it was elegant, and as always, it was machine washable.

EJ kissed my temple and my phone vibrated, it was a facetime from Carlos. I hadn’t apologized for my behavior and at this point I didn’t really know how. He wasn't speaking to me, but when I answered the facetime call, there was Grinder in all his glory, being saddled. Carlos kept the phone on him as they walked around the paddock and the call disconnected as the horses departed to the tunnel and made their way to the track.

“I see you’re still being stubborn and Carlos is still not talking to you.”

Grabbing his arm, I wrapped it around my middle, “ I don’t even know how to bring it up or what to say.”

I could hear the amusement in his voice, “Well I think you start with ‘I’m’ and end with ‘sorry’”

Heaving a sigh, I wondered if anyone would blame me for crushing his toes under the heel of my fashionable bootie this close to hockey season. “Thanks for the advice, smart ass.”

The horses started filing onto the track, nine gleaming thoroughbreds in various shades of red, brown, and grey. Then there was Grinder, marching across the dirt to the turf, his coat so shiny it almost looked like an oil slick. There were no bad vibes this time. These were good horses, real competition and somehow the big black gelding made them all look like scrawny mustangs gathered from the Nevada desert.

Large hands closed over mine and Erik pried my phone from my death grip before sliding it into his pocket, “Please try not to destroy anything with your hulk hands.”

Frowning, I looked at my hands, “They’re not hulk hands.”

“Peaches last time he raced and you held my hand I heard bones crack.”

There were 11 horses in the race, including Grinder. It was a decent field and I started to worry it was going to be too much. Too many horses, too much traffic, and if he did win, what about the Breeder’s cup where the field could be even larger?

The horses completed the post parade and started to warm up. I watched the horses, looking for weaknesses, lameness, anything that might give me peace of mind that my horse was the best. There was nothing. These were some of the best horses in the country and Grinder was amongst them.

Time stretched like a lazy cat and the warm up seemed to take forever, but all too soon the horses approached the gate and started to be loaded. Grinder had pulled the first post position and because of his running style, no one was a fan. Everyone wanted to be on the rail, to run the shortest race. That didn’t matter for Grinder, he was fit, he was a closer, but he could get caught in the mad rush. He could get bumped, or worse, stuck in traffic. I didn’t know what the ornery gelding would do if he was forced to run in the middle of the pack, Mikey and I had discussed it and we had both decided it was best to never find out.

Grinder was one of the first horses loaded, and I pressed the binoculars to my eyes watching his feet. They were flat on the ground and he stood like a statue while the rest of the horses were slotted into their spots. What was less than a minute stretched for eternity and finally the bell clanged and the gates opened. Grinder shot forth and I had to pull the lenses away from my eyes to blink before replacing them.

The big black horse was surging with the pack. He was on the rail and stretching to keep his nose in front of the competition. He broke fast and he was…. Leading?

“What the fuck?” Erik’s words spoke to both of us. I could tell from the body language both Mikey and the horse were surprised as well.

I let the small binoculars fall, resting in my hand against the wall of the owner’s box, “I mean, we wanted to keep him out of traffic. This is fine. As long as Mikey stays out of his way, this is fine.”

And shockingly it was. Mikey helped rate Grinder and the fractions were fast, but not otherworldly. The frontrunners in this race were decent but Grinder was faster and he held them off with ease.

Into the far turn, the field started to challenge him and every time a horse pulled alongside him, Grinder found another gear. The crowd roared as the big black horse headed for the finish, leading the field wire to wire.

I didn’t remember when I started screaming but I was still screaming when the rest of the field passed under the wire and Erik was spinning me around.

Time seemed stuck in fast forward as the ERJ Racing team took photos in the winner’s circle. There were interviews galore and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The whirlwind didn’t cease until the sun had long gone to bed and I was leaning on Grinder’s stall door with my elbows, watching the horse munch his evening hay.

A warm hand found the small of my back and Erik shouldered his way next to me, “he was spectacular.”

My cheeks hurt but I still couldn’t stop the smile, “yeah he is.”

“He’s spectacular because of you.” He nudged my shoulder with his.

“No, he was always spectacular. Just no one else saw it. No one else believed.”

EJ pulled me into his body and kissed my temple, “Come on Peaches, we got a big day of horse buying tomorrow and then I have to be in Colorado by Monday morning.”

And there it was, the kicker to my absolutely perfect day. September was starting and just as I felt I had gotten my footing in my new life, it was going to be changing again.

#fourth line grinder #flg #Erik Johnson #erik johnson imagine #erik johnson fic #erik johnson x ofc #Colorado Avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche rpf #Colorado Avs #avs imagine #Avs fic #avs rpf #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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obetrolncocktails · 3 years

Text

"For You" Jake Kiszka x Reader

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Light smut, lots of sadness, angst, fluff

A/N: I am so proud of this fic–I have been thinking of how to write this for a couple weeks now and just got it right. It is a song-fic based on John Denver’s “For You,” so please give that song a listen when you read. Note–the original song is performed with piano, but I imagine a guitar version instead.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please let me know!

Listen to the song below!

Word Count: 3,000+

"For You"

Three Months Prior:

“Jake, why do you never sing for me? I can hear you when you play, when you practice, even when you shower. I can tell you have pipes,” you wonder out loud, cuddling up to him as you two watch a movie that was the opposite of captivating. Your thoughts had wandered, the movie long forgotten. “Mm, it’s just not my thing,” he says, looking down at you, snuggled beside him. “I leave that to Josh. I only usually sing when the band needs backing vocals. Maybe one day I'll give you a little show.” his arm wraps around you, his fingers tousling your loose strands as they flow beyond your shoulders. “You have a voice that deserves to be heard, Jakey,” you say, leaning into his arm, kissing it lightly before squeezing him a bit tighter. “Thank you, my love,” he says, tucking his chin downward, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“So this movie–snooze fest, right?” he says, lifting the remote to turn the TV off. With a regretful grimace, you face him. “I’m sorry babe, this movie is terrible,” you giggle, sitting up against the headboard. “To be quite honest, I was imagining doing something far more entertaining anyway,” Jake turns to face you, a devilish smirk brightening his dark eyes. With the tips of your fingers, you push him away playfully, “Oh I get it–you won’t sing for me, but you have no problem fucking me, huh?” You bite your lip as you traipse your body slowly upon his, ending up on his lap. Leaning over him, you meet each other’s gaze as his eyes wander about your body, his hands raising to touch your breasts. With fast reflex, you pin his hands underneath the weight of your legs, dragging a pointer finger down the softness of his bottom lip. “It’s my turn to put on a little show for you, in hopes you’ll do the same later,” you whisper just above his lips, close enough to touch. The feeling of your hot breath will have to be enough for him for a while.

Reaching up with crossed arms, you pull the oversized tee shirt off of your body to reveal your bare breasts underneath. Carelessly, you throw the shirt across the room, returning to your lover below. Using your own hands, your fingers wander about your skin, resting upon your erect nipples. “Jake, you make me feel beautiful,” you whisper. “I can see it in your eyes that you want me.” “I’m surprised you cannot feel me underneath you,” Jake murmurs softly, his eyes the brightest thing in the room. You chuckle lightly, leaning forward to lay against his chest, kissing the softness of his lips. “Take me already, won’t you?” Without wasting a second, he wraps his arms around you, flipping you so that you are flat on the mattress. He pauses, taking in your features, memorizing your natural beauty, as if you would disappear in a second. He lowers himself upon you, sinking into the taste of your kiss. “My wandering daydreams about you turned out to be a far-better movie, if I’m being honest,” Jake whispers against your skin. Tilting his head, he traces pink constellations upon your ears, neck and chest, intent on leaving a reminder of his touch. The moment dissolves into an endless night of unspoken confession.

***

The tour was exhausting; so many cities and shows had Jake working on his last reserves of energy, causing the communication between you two to dwindle from consistent texts, calls and facetime conversations, to one or two calls a day, eventually down to mere texts. You knew that his absence wasn’t intentional; he loved you and you knew it. It didn’t mean, however, that it was easy filling in the blanks without his presence.

“Hey hun, how was the reunion,” Jake asks you over the phone, his inflection rising with interest. “Oh, you remembered. It was lovely–I got to see uncle Griffin, Grandpa and Grandma–oh and little baby Lillian,” you respond, intentionally placing the word “remembered,” in the conversation, considering how broken things have been recently. Jake lets you continue about your afternoon, but you soon realize that he has been on autopilot the entire time, serving you various iterations of “mmhmm,” “yeah,” “cool,” Scattered between few broad questions in between. “Jake, forget it, I know you’re tired. Go to bed, we will talk in the morning,” you give up, releasing an audible sigh over the phone. “Y/n don’t go, I am sorry–the group text with the label keeps going off, distracting me.” You uncross your legs, getting up from your bed to shut off your lights, “I love you Jake, don’t forget that,” you say, decisively ending the conversation. “I love y–” you hang up the phone, tired of hearing those same words. They were splitting you apart, more so than the distance.

It’s a rainy, in-between day during tour and Jake cannot shake how much he misses you. He knows that the communication between the two of you has been lacking lately. His career almost certainly requires long-distance relationships; it wasn’t fair to place that burden on you–you knew that, but you both had agreed to try it out. The distance, however, was turning out to be much more difficult to process than you both had expected. Jake knew that you were struggling to cope with him being gone for so long, but you also realized that it was difficult for him to express the way he felt, given the lack of privacy on the road, not to mention that these important words would need to be spoken over the phone or through facetime. For this, and many other reasons, communication became dodgy and unconcentrated. Every phone call or text-exchange ended with an “I love you,” like always, but hearing those words uttered so often and so passively, they tend to lose their meaning.

***

“Alright lover-boy, fess up. I need to hear what you’re playing,” Josh says, entering the back room of the bus where Jake sits, playing a soft tune on his acoustic guitar. “I think you’ve got something,” Josh says, leaning against the door frame. “It’s beginning to stick in my brain too.” Jake lifts his head to glance at his brother, offering a slight smile. “Thanks, man.” Josh brings a hand to fluff his hair before continuing. “It’s been a while since you whipped her out. By the sound of it,” Josh gestures to the instrument, “this melody is the perfect way to celebrate her beauty.” Jake chuckles quietly. “It’s something I woke up with. The melody–it won’t leave. I keep humming it, no matter what I do, so I thought I should do something about it.” Josh approaches Jake, coming to sit on the couch beside him, “Whatever it is, sounds like one hell of a love song, if you ask me. Has a kinda Denver sound to it, don’t you think?” Jake nods and continues, stopping and starting between moments of contemplation. “It’s for y/n–I have some ideas for lyrics, if you’d like to listen.” He readjusts in his seat, clearing his throat. “Lay it on me,” Josh says, moving over a bit to give Jake more room to play.

“Just to look in your eyes again

Just to lay in your arms

Just to be the first one always there for you

Just to live in your laughter

Just to sing in your heart

Just to be everyone of your dreams come true”

Jake trails off after the verse, raising to scratch his head, guitar pick still between his fingers. “It’s rough, and I am not always great with my words, So I’m not sur–” “Jake, Jake…this is beautiful, Y/N is going to love it, I am serious,” Josh interjects, cutting his brother off mid-sentence. “Yeah, well, things are looking a lot more like “trouble in paradise” right now,” Jake says, pulling the guitar strap over his head, returning the instrument to its case. “The distance thing is killing me. I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation in I-don’t-know-how-long.” Josh nods as he rises from the couch, his hands rising to fluff his curls. “Well, write for her the things you can’t say and go from there. You would be surprised what you come up with.” Josh pats his brother on the top of the head and leaves the room. Jake continues to write late into the evening, scrawling lyrics on the back of used setlists.

You call him the next day, having cried the night through. “Jake–we need to talk.” Jake responds immediately, “I know honey–I’ve been distant lately and things have been a bit weird–” “Jake, it’s more than that. I think that this life is dragging your attention from me, and while I would normally accept it and keep going, I don’t think I can. I am in love with you. But, I don’t think that love is enough if we cannot take care of it.” The words hurt to say, but you knew that they were necessary. Your relationship meant more than to hold on to empty promises that neither of you could fulfil whilst so far apart. “Y/n, tour is almost over, 18 days, 23 hours and 15 seconds to be exact,” Jake exclaims, impressing you that he had kept count. “Jake, how long has it been since we touched? Do you remember? How about the last time we kissed? Fucked?” you pause, a slight blush staining your cheeks. “I am so lonely in this relationship. I am talking to you now, but I still miss you…and I don’t see that changing for now.” Jake’s eyebrows furrow, the brightness in his eyes gone in an instant. This was not the conversation that he was expecting, but he knew it was imminent. “Y/n, what happened to us? We were so good when I left–and then we weren’t.” You shake your head woefully on the other side of the phone. “I am weak and I am selfish; I don’t want to share you between your career and your time with me. I would never make you choose, so I am saving my dignity and am stepping down for a while.” Jake’s eyes threaten tears as he listens to you, breaking apart his composure. “No–don’t do this to us,” Jake chokes, reaching up with his hand to bat the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “Jake- Jake listen to me. I am saving us. I know you cannot see it right now, and that is okay, but please know that you are the best thing in my life. I have to give you up so that you can come back to me.”

The line is filled with silence for several seconds. “Y/n, can you do something for me,” Another pause–”Yes, what is it?” you say, not sure what to expect next. “Please, please come to the Philly show. The last one on tour. I will pay for everything, I just need you there.” Jake pleads with you over the phone, which was unlike him. “Jake, I can’t rearrange everything in that amoun-” Jake cuts you off, “Y/n, I am begging you, if you love me, please be there.” Closing your eyes, you feel the need to end the conversation for now. “I need to go, Jake. Goodbye. Take care of yourself.” The line cuts, your iphone screen going black. “FUCK!” Jake shouts, throwing his iphone across the greenroom. It hits the cinderblock wall, ricocheting against the floor and back up, flying against liquor bottles, sending them tumbling to the floor with shakers and glasses. “Woah, woah, woah, what the hell man,” Sammy says, bursting into the room having heard the commotion from backstage. “This shit is expensive–none of it was on our rider, Jake. We will have to pay for it all.” Jake flips the length of his hair behind him, turning to face Sammy. “It’s nothing, I will pay for it, I promise.” “Are you alright,” Sammy attempts, worry pasted on his face. “No Sam, I am not fucking alright, okay? Y/N and I just split.” Sammy’s expression slackens and he enters the room towards Jake. “Bro, I am so sorry–” Jake places his palm up in front of Sammy in a “stop” gesture, before brushing past him, out of the greenroom. Sammy eyes the mess below and bends to clean it up.

***

“Mom, I don’t know what I’m doing,” you say, sitting at your mother’s dining table as she cooks. You had taken a special trip to visit your parents in the wake of the breakup. “Well, honey, I don’t think that you made the wrong decision. I know, and your father knows that you love Jake. We raised you to love fiercely and wholly. Real love isn’t always easy. It can be extremely reckless, or it can be managed,” she says, turning to stir the sizzling vegetables in her cast iron skillet. “I love him–I can’t be without him,” you say, resting your head upon your hands as you rest your elbows on the table. “He told me to come to the last show on tour.” You eye your mother, waiting for her response. “And?” she inquires. You pause before answering. “I didn’t give him an answer–I just told him that I needed to go.” She turns to face you, using her wooden spoon to gesticulate. “You need to decide. Are you or are you not going to go?” You sit back in your chair, pulling your hands through the tangles in your hair. “I have no idea.”

Multiple shows pass, each one muddling into the other. Jake struggles to deliver quality performances. His guitar strings snap or his monitor stops working–all of these difficulties cursing the final string of tour dates. “I’m going to do it, Josh. If she isn’t there, she isn’t there. But my side deserves to be heard,” Jake declares behind stage, the Philly show well under way. The show had gone off without a hitch so far, giving Jake the edge he needed. Re-entering the stage after a brief interval, Josh walks up to the mic, addressing the audience. “Philly, you are absolutely whimsical tonight–” the crowd cheers and whoops as the band re-tunes their instruments. “I have a friend who wants to say something.” Jake steps forward with his acoustic guitar, approaching the microphone, which wasn’t something he did naturally. “Hello–um…I don’t have something to say as much as I do something to sing.” Jake peers into the enormous audience with a smile, painted with pain, but also with hope. “I wrote this song for someone that means more to me than the air that I breathe, than this guitar that I play,” he raises the instrument in a small gesture. “She is the rest of my life– and I was too distracted to realize that she was slipping and begging for me, and I was deaf to her,” Jake clears his throat, feedback screeching through the microphone and through the monitors. “Anyway, this is “For You.”

“Just to look in your eyes again

Just to lay in your arms

Just to be the first one always there for you

Just to live in your laughter

Just to sing in your heart

Just to be everyone of your dreams come true

Just to sit by your window

Just to touch in the night

Just to offer a prayer each day for you

Just to long for your kisses

Just to dream of your sighs

Just to know that I'd give my life for you

For you, for the rest of my life

For you, all the best of my life

For you alone, only for you

Just to wake up each morning

Just to you by my side

Just to know that you're never really far away

Just a reason for living

Just to say, "I adore"

Just to know that you're here in my heart to stay…”

Jake scans the crowd as he sings, connecting with audience members as they sway quietly to the ballad. Admittedly, it wasn’t something that the band would program for a concert, but Jake needed it to be tonight. Just before withdrawing himself back to focus on playing, his eyes meet a flash of something familiar….the golden dove necklace he had given you last Christmas. Moving his eyes upward, his heart crashes in his chest. Fresh tears stream down your cheeks, blurring the edges of your vision. You stand absolutely still, as to not miss a single second. Bringing your fingers up to grasp the pendant of your necklace, you roll in back and forth, comforting you as you watch. Meeting his gaze, you nod with a smile and a relieved laugh as you listen. He nods back, bringing a single hand to his heart, patting it two times before returning to the frets to sing the final chorus and verse.

For you for, the rest of my life

For you all, the best of my life

For you alone, only for you

Just the words of a love song

Just the beat of my heart

Just the pledge of my life, my love…

for you.”

“I did say that I would sing for you eventually,” he smiles at you from the stage. The crowd bursts forth in raucous approval, suspending the moment in the arena. If you could have, you would have jumped on stage and tackled him then and there, making love with him for all to see. Instead, you make your way backstage. As soon as you are able, you pull out of your pocket the lanyard that he had sent you through the mail. Jake is waiting on stage right, now dressed in his effortless button down/jean combo. Meeting his eyes, you waste no time. You sprint for him, watching as he opens his arms wide, catching you as you surge into him. He rocks you back and forth for an extended moment. “You are the rest of my life,” he says, pressed against your hair. “And everything after that,” you say, lifting your chin to find your way back home to his waiting lips.

Taglist: @theweightofstardust, @thecoldwind, @miidnightcarlights, @stardustkiszkas, @franciskiszka, @stxverandle , @weightofdreams-gvf, @starchords, @jthomaskiszka, @mywaysooon, @gretavanhoney, @jakekiszska, @sparrowofthedawn, @gustingirl, @cowboysamkiszka, @fictional-duchess, @gretagolden @bypeapod, @aureummel

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #gvf #gretavanfleet #josh gvf #sammy gvf #josh kiszka #danny gvf #greta van fleet imagine #Spotify

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thismaydestroyme · 3 years

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Denver: Love on Tour

i didn’t have any idea what i wanted to name this blurb. this shit wiped me out, and i don’t know if this is any good. i can’t bring myself to reread this over. it’s currently 2 in the morning, and i’m about to hit the hay. i hope you find this somewhat tolerable.

warning: that’s a loaded question

word count: 3084

That fucking little teasing dance Harry did while he was performing ‘Woman” will forever be ingrained in your head.

That fucking cheeky bastard.

Harry is so loved on stage and he was feeling himself the entire night, that’s why he did that cheeky dance because he knew his beautiful girlfriend, Y/N would go in a frenzy and that’s what he wanted. Of course he had to throw something in for Y/N, what kind of boyfriend would he be?

When Harry was finished with his show, he ran backstage to find Y/N, but he had to stop and appreciate everyone’s remark when they were throwing gratitude and compliments his way by his performance tonight. We could all say Denver won this round compared to the Las Vegas show.

“Harry, you ate that!”

“You whore!”

“That was amazing”

“You deserve to have your ass eaten out.”

Harry immediately turned around to find who said that last part, because deep down he knew. Y/N pushed some people out of her way while she was trudging her way to Harry. Y/N is wearing her infamous white booties so when she walks you can hear her coming from all directions. When Y/N enters the room, all eyes are all on you because you own every room you’re graced in. When you finally get to Harry he’s already giving you a smirk which you gave right back.

“Oh no…. Not this again.” Couple of people behind you said that while they start packing up their gears so you guys can leave and head to your next location and that’s San Antonio.

“Hello puppet. I see that you’re in your dom headspace. I can see it in your eyes.” Harry said while he brought his hand to rub your cheeks. You give him a glare and push his hand away and you start walking back to the table which is covered by random shit- which you have to pack and clean. You hate the idea of leaving things a mess, so when you guys leave, people here won’t have to clean up all the mess you guys left behind.

You can be a bitch, but you’re not disrespectful.

After a couple of minutes has passed where you put things back in the duffle bags that you brought and wipe down the vanities and tables with Lysol. Making sure things are squeaky clean.

You feel a presence behind you, but you don’t have to wonder who because you can spot that Tobacco Vanille fragrance anywhere. You turn around and you see Harry looking down at you, his eyes burning onto yours.

“Why are you being like this?” Harry asked.

“I’m not being like anything, you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“I just didn’t like you doing that ‘little’ dance. Flaunting your hips around and toying with your nipples while you were performing, Women.” You said annoyingly. You try to turn around, but Harry grabs your hand to make you stand right in front of him.

“Are you jealous?” Harry said all knowling with that fucking grin on his damn face. You try to look over him because you don’t want to have this conversion, but he grabs your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. His green eyes are so blown out, you can hardly see any green.

“I’m not-”

“Pet. Stop it right now. Answer my question.”

“Yes. I was jealous” You mumbled hoping he’ll drop it.

“Awe, baby. That’s adorable.” He giggled.

“It’s not funny nor adorable.” You push his hands away to storm off but he still is holding onto you.

Harry looks around and you’re not sure what he wanted because this room is already packed up and no one else is here beside you too. Then you realize there's a couch in this room and before you know it Harry is trudging you along to the couch. He plops down and you’re still standing between his legs that he purposely did on purpose because he loves it when you’re between his legs. His arms are stretched out, hanging loosely on the back of the couch. He’s staring right at you. Fuck, this man right here with his red pants on, with his blue and white strip button up shirt with his red spenders on. Like you said… this outfit beats the Las Vegas show.

“What you want, baby, you want to punish me?” He said while wiggling his eyebrows, which you taught him to do. It took him a year to master it.

You cross your arms which have your boobs stand out more.

“Puppet, stop it, m’okay? Come to daddy.”

You turn your head around because you’re just annoyed with the fact he turns himself on so easily and the fans witnessed it. You’re happy and glad Harry is finally at this point in his life where he’s able to live his authentic life and he’s able to express himself in the most beautiful way, but when it comes to his horny meter, you want to be the only one to see it.

“C’mon darling, I will be a good boy for mommy. I want to be a good boy to mommy.” He said in the wine.

Fuck.

You try to ignore his neediness, but it’s so hard to because he knows how much hearing him whine will send you into an overdrive. You try to ignore your needs, but you feel his hand on your waist, trancing his name on your waist. Due to the low rise jean you’re currently wearing, his name is on display. His hands started to work his way up to your stomach which he stopped at your belly button so he could play with your belly ring.

His hands are so gentle and soft. It feels like Harry is doing figure skating motion on your stomach. It flows in the wind. You start to completely forget why you’re even mad at him. Your eyes flutter close. Everything just feels heightened.

You jolt because you feel Harry’s lips on your stomach and his hands are roaming your back and inching it way to your ass, but before he could even reach it he brings his hands back up. Harry is pampering you in kisses. It’s like his way of apologizing. Your hand finds its way to the back of his hair to tossle it up a bit. You feel so good and it feels so right.

“Mommy?” Harry whispered which broke you out of your trance. You open your eyes and you see Harry looking at you with admiration.

“Yes, baby?” You said in a gentle tone still twirling his hair in your hands.

“I’m so sorry. I went overboard on stage. I just want you to know that.” He slowly gave you a kiss on your blushy stomach which resulted in you moaning.

“It’s okay baby. I’m not mad, I’m just sad I wasn’t the one to get you turned on.” You lean down to kiss the top of his head, so he knows that you’re not angry with him.

“NO! The reason I did that was because I was thinking about you when I was singing Woman.” He rushed out his words.

You bring your hand to his chin so he could look at you, “is that true, my pretty boy?”

“Yes! I want to be a good boy. That’s all I want. Please.” He rambled and immediately started kissing your stomach over and over again. Not missing any skin.

“Fuck… you’re such a good boy to mommy. Mmmhh.” Harry starts sucking your skin. You toss your head back letting this feeling consume you.

“H. I think we need to stop. We have to leave.” Your words were so broken up.

There was a plop sound due to Harry letting go of your extra skin that was in his mouth just a second ago.

“Don’t worry about that. I told them to leave. We’ll just order an uber when they’re at their resting stop.” Harry went back to your stomach and his hands are roaming freely. You don’t want to argue with him how that’s unprofessional, but at this moment… fuck it.

“Okay baby.” You said to him. People wouldn’t think having someone making out with your stomach wouldn’t be considered sexy or whatnot but this moment is so intimate and so perfect for the both of you.

While you have Harry praising you, you couldn’t help but think what he did on stage toying with his nipples. Just that sight almost had you cuming, but you had to control yourself, but now you don’t have to.

You pushed Harry’s face away from your stomach and you could tell there was a hint of defiance in his eyes, so you had to stop it before he actually got in trouble.

“That’s not a good boy behavior. Sit back.” Harry let out an annoyance huff, but you stopped it by glaring at him. He obeyed and he moved himself back on the couch.

“Happy now?” Harry lifts his arms up so he can let it land on his thighs. He’s being a brat now.

“Bad boys don’t get treats. So if I was you, I would stop this shenanigan right now.” You glared at him. He softened his eyes.

“Good boy.”

You walked little more up to him so it would be easier for you sit on his lap facing him. You lower yourself onto him. His hands found it’s way to your waist. When you're completely on his lap you feel a nice bulge forming, you couldn’t help but to smile. You raise your eyebrows which he responded by pulling you closer to him.

“I didn’t realize how needy my superstar is.” You taunted him. You start moving your hips into a small circle which results in a moan getting stuck at the back of his throat.

“Awe, my baby is all choked up. Do you need mommy to help you?” You whispered to him leaning over to toy with his earlobe with your tongue. Slowly flicking it. Harry goes into a frenzy when you play around with his earlobes.

“I- I’m- MOMMY!”

You bite on his earlobe the way he likes it. You suck on his earlobe to bring him back and help with the sharp bite.

“Don’t worry, I got you darling.” You whispered. You change position and start licking his neck to collect the remnant of his sweat. It’s so salty, but so tasty. You start sucking him kissing and leaving wet kisses to soothe the pain. The way Harry is holding onto your waist you know when you wake up there will be bruises which you don’t mind because you love seeing the marks he left you to remember him by. You’re still swaying your hips, but it’s getting hard to do due to how Harry cemented his hands onto your waist.

You’re suctioning your mouth on his neck but you can feel his veins in your mouth due how turned on he is. You couldn't tell he’s holding himself back, which you don’t like. So you remove your mouth from his neck which resulted with him whining.

Your eyes connected with his and omg, you wished your phone wasn’t at the far end of the room because you would want to take a picture of his beautiful face.

“Don’t hold back. If you do I will walk away.” Before he could say anything your lips landed on his and shit, that kiss is wet, messy, and a lot of fucking tongue. His tongue immidently found yours and you began to suck on the tip of his tongue. He had to open his mouth more so you can have enough room to suck his tongue. The mix of yours and Harry saliva are all over you guys. You pull Harry’s hair so his head is more lean back so you could do something you guys both shared a common interest in and that is spit play.

You roughly spit in his mouth and the sound he made was so delicious. He closed his mouth to form his own spit and before you knew it, it landed on your face. All over your face. His salvia landed on your eyelids, your mouth, and your forehead.

You grab his cheeks and kiss him with so much force. The room is filled with pronographic sounds that’s both making you guys get so turned on because you guys both love hearing the sound you too make together. You remove your lips from his and you push yourself off from Harry so you can be right next to him. Before he could say anything you grab his face so he can turn to you and go back to feverishly kissing him all over.

The image of him on stage with him swaying his hips and giving his nipple attention is something that’s not leaving you anytime soon. Both of your lips separated and Harry breathing is all over the place, if you didn’t see him taking his inhaler after he got off the stage you would’ve immediately gotten up and fetched his inhaler.

“Stop teasing me.” He said groggily.

“I’m not teasing anymore, baby.” You gave him a peck on his lips. You pushed him back so his back hit the back of the cushion. You’re eyeing him up and down, trying to figure out what you want to do to him, after a couple of seconds you have an idea.

“Take off your shirt.” You said.

Harry immediately did what you asked him to do. Snapping off his suspenders and unbuttoning his blouse. His whole stomach, his butterfly, and the bird tattoos are finally on display. Before you knew it your lips were on one of his four nipples. You suck on his nipple, but make sure you pay attention to the other three. You’re twirling your tongue around while sucking it because you love it when Harry does it to you.

“Fuck baby. Omg.” Harry moaned out. His hand is at the back of your head playing with your hair. You move on to the next but instead of toying with his nipples with that one hand that isn’t be preoccupied you bring that hand to his covered bulge.

Harry landed a nice smack to your ass. You made eye contact with him. You let go of his nipple and you dribble spit over that nipple you were just sucking. He look at you like you were going to eat him alive. You gave him a smirk and went back to paying attention to his nipples. You keep palming his crotch while twirling your tongue, on his nipples. Keeping track of three nipples while you’re sucking on one is hard, but hey, whatever your pretty boy wants, he gets.

“Mommy, I’m feeling weird.” Harry whined. You immediately stopped what you were doing because the last you wanted to do is make him feel uncomfortable.

“I stop, I stop. Are you okay? What did I do? I’m sor-”

“No, everything is fine, more than fine… amazing I might add. Just, you’re sucking on my nipples and palming my dick which is so simple, but that simplicity makes me feel I might cum any minute.” Harry whispered feeling lost how such a small act of you has him feeling like he could cum, just by this.

“So I didn’t do anything wrong?” You asked Harry, making sure you’re not misinterpreting any of this.

“No, absolutely not.”

“Well…. If you want, I would like to make you cum just by doing that, if you don’t mind?”

“Yes, mommy. Do whatever you like to do with me.” Harry rambled. You let out a toothy grin how excited and new how all of this is for him.

You lean over to give him a quick peck on his lip, “good boy.” You said while giving him his last peck.

Your wet mouth went back to his nipples and your hand went back giving his cock attention. His cock is settled on his left thigh due to how hard he is. Just the image of him cuming on himself is something you were so destined to achieve.

You lap your tongue around his areola. Just the sound of it all has you feeling something running down your inner legs, you know you have to take care of it, but not right now. Not at this moment.

You tighten your grip on his cock to hopefully create a nice friction which rewards you having to listen to Harry’s moans. Harry’s hands are on your head trying to compose himself, but you knew the second he made that sound you knew he would cum any second.

You remove your mouth from his nipples and went down to the other one that was below the one you just previously sucked. You guess this nipple holds a lot of sensitivity because Harry buckled himself out and let out a horrific sound you weren’t expecting to come down. So you decided the pace you were going at, will have him cuming, pretty fucking soon.

“Baby, just like that. I’m going to cum. Can I take my cock out?” He whined. He can’t help himself to stay still due to the overload his body is feeling. This is pretty much all new to him.

You exchange positions so your mouth is next to his ear, so he knows that isn’t going to happen. “No baby, I want you to cum just the way you are. I want the world to see how filthy you are by cuming in your trousers. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

“Baby- Fuck” You start speeding your pace and you attach your lips to his to swallow every drop of his moan. After a couple of minutes of passionately kissing and letting him use your mouth as a soundproof room to let his moans and rubbing him off inside his pants, he finally came undone.

“Fuck, Fuck, Yes!” You feel something warm coming out of him. You start massaging his swollen cock to bring him down your high and for him to come back to you. You start whispering sweetnothings to his ear to help him come back.

His head fell onto your shoulder and you started soothing his hair pampering him with praises and love. Your baby boy deserves the world, and just wait and see what you have planned for him for the next couple of months.

#harry blurb #blurb #harry styles #harry styles reader insert #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry oneshot #oneshot #writing #smut #thismaydestroyme

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troubatrain · 3 years

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good for you - t. jost

a/n: one day it dawned at me that tyson jost really had just been hitting different lately, and so i just needed to write some filth about it. i'm thinking of making this a smut based mini series so let me know what you guys think :)

part two

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this.

Mat Barzal was pouting, laying across your bedroom in your apartment whining about how you were heading off to Colorado and leaving him. It wasn’t by choice, you’d gotten into a grad program that was an amazing opportunity, separating you and your childhood best friend for the first time in ages. Mat was your friend by accident, a kid was picking on him and you got mad because only you’re allowed to do that and punched that kid square in the nose. Mat covered for you so you wouldn’t get suspended and you’d been inseparable ever since.

“This place is going to be too quiet without you,” Mat whines, dodging the book you’d thrown in his direction, “And not that I keep you to clean up after me but I do need you to teach me how to use the dishwasher.”

“How about you help me pack then?” You suggest, rolling your eyes at his inability to take care of himself. He’d always been like that, his own mother relieved when you moved in because it eased her worries about Mat burning his place down.

“You should give Tyson a call,” Mat hops up, grabbing a box and some stuff off your shelf, “Sure he’d be able to show you around.”

“Tyson Jost?” You furrow your brows, trying to clarify exactly who Mat was talking about. There wasn’t anything wrong with Tyson, that was the problem. Tyson was like sunshine in the summer and in another life, he’d be your dream man. He was kind and the way he talked about his mother made every one of your girlfriends swoon. Tyson had the kind of drive you respected and he just seemed so steady, “I thought we agreed I’d break him.”

“You agreed with yourself on that one not me,” Mat chuckles, shaking his head at your response. Mat couldn’t think of any one of his friends that he’d let date you besides Tyson. Tyson was an astronomically better person than Mat was, always the kind of kid his parents encouraged him to hang out with, “What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot?”

“I’m not sleeping with Tyson, he’s too innocent,” It wasn’t an excuse, it was the truth. Everything about Tyson screamed that he’d get you off but it wouldn’t be all that exciting. Tyson was a relationship type, and you weren’t and aside from the obvious sexual incompatibility - he was Mat’s friend. Despite his efforts, you always swore that was a line you’d never cross. Besides, as kind and endearing as Tyson was, he was still a hockey player, he just got away with it better than most.

“Just promise me you’ll call him? Especially if something’s wrong,” Mat pleads, a soft expression on his face even if it was just for a second before you had a t-shirt tossed in your direction, “You can’t let him replace me though, I’m number one around here.”

“I cannot wait to live alone,” You tease, laughing when Mat’s middle finger is thrown in your direction. It was bittersweet, leaving the comfort of having Mat around to buy you ice cream when you were sad and to take care of his best friend duties and onto a new adventure.

“You won’t be alone Josty will be there,” Mat jokes, his laugh bouncing off the now barren walls of your bedroom, “I swear I’m done now.”

“You better be.”

“I give it two weeks before you fuck Josty though.”

***

Just swing by her place, please.

Mat was like a mother who just sent their first kid away for college, and he was panicking. So, yes, he was begging Tyson to just drop in on to make sure your move was going as smoothly as you made it sound on the phone. Tyson could have been doing anything else on a Friday night with no game, but he was getting closer and closer to giving in by the second.

Tyson could admit, he wanted to see you, and he was excited when Mat shared the news you were moving to Denver. He looked forward to seeing you in the summer, carefree and light and so far out of his league he’d never even try. You made Tyson fumble his words, and every time he saw you he would think with his dick and he couldn’t focus on anything else. Above all else, Tyson wanted you to know he was a phone call away, a promise he made to Mat that he’d be there if you needed anything that he was going to keep for his own selfish reasons.

So Tyson was off to your apartment, a bottle of wine in one hand and a case of Coors Light in the other. He lifted his hand to knock, taking a deep breath and just thinking to himself, don’t fuck this up.

You knew that familiar tuft of curls in your peephole anywhere, summers spent watching the way Tyson’s curls bounced against his forehead whenever he spoke. This had Mat written all over it, no doubt your best friend put Tyson up to his welcoming committee bit. You turn around, boxes piled everywhere with nothing set up in your place aside from your mattress in the middle of the floor and your tv in your living room. Unpacking had been a bit overwhelming, and you may have lied on the phone to Mat that you were doing just fine. You take one deep breath, holding your head up high and pretending like your place wasn’t a mess.

“Hi,” You smile, leaning against your doorframe and taking in the man in front of you. Did he get bigger? Maybe it’s the hair, it’s longer. No, the scruff. Whatever it was, your feet were glued to the floor because you were stunned by the fact that Tyson Jost had gotten hot.

“Welcome,” Tyson cheeses, holding up the beer and wine in his hands and shrugging his shoulders, “I hope it’s fine I stopped by, Mat called and-”

“Told you to come?” You finished his sentence, Tyson nodding at your question, “Well, I have no furniture because it won’t be here until tomorrow, but you’re more than welcome to come join in my sad empty apartment.”

“I’d love to,” Tyson chuckles, bumping his shoulder with yours when he walked into your place. It was definitely empty, Tyson wishing he’d known sooner you’d be without most of your stuff for another day so he could offer up his guest room. It didn’t matter to him, his mind focused more on the fact that you looked incredible, a too big Islanders shirt and a pair of shorts that were leaving little to the eye. You were digging through a box, a small aha leaving your mouth when you pulled out a mug, “Wine in a mug?”

“That’s how Mat used to pour me glasses when we first moved in together,” You admit, gripping the mug in your hand tightly. You may have stolen it from your former kitchen, but it was a memory you wanted to remember, “You can sit, I mean the only place is on my mattress but-”

“Sounds like a tradition then,” Tyson hums, sitting down and leaning against your pillows, taking a sip of his beer. You sat cross legged next to him, pouring yourself some of the wine he’d brought over in that silly I <3 New York mug Mat bought for your first place. You settled on a movie, thankful you at least had wi-fi and didn’t have to make awkward conversation with Tyson.

It’s only awkward because you’re making it awkward, you thought to yourself. Maybe Tyson was doing it on purpose, peacocking around your apartment because Mat told him he had this weird thing about you sleeping with him. He wouldn’t do that, remembering every other time Tyson’s ignored one of Mat’s grand schemes because they were bad ideas, “Excited for the season to start? A few more weeks right?”

“I’m excited for camp to be over,” Tyson groans, snuggling himself into

your mattress, “My entire body’s on fire.”

Yeah mine too. You watched the way Tyson rolled his shoulders, clear pain across his face, “Ty’s let me-”

You were usually bold, confident enough to make the first move without the fear of rejection. It could be from years of watching Mat, a true master at his craft of picking up women, and constantly encouraging you to do the same. That’s how a player plays the game Y/N. Tyson’s brows were raised at you, a blush on his neck while he let himself sit a bit. You slipped your fingers under the soft cotton of his t-shirt, digging them into the knots in his shoulder. Tyson let his eyes rest, embracing the relief you were giving him.

Of course your fingers felt like magic. Tyson was doing everything in his power to keep his cool, and not blow this one chance he’s had with you without Mat’s stupid antics in the middle of it. Just ask her out, she’ll probably reject you, but at least you’ll get laid. Mat was right, he had to be because he knew you better than anyone. It wasn’t just some claim he made either, you didn’t do relationships, never giving your heart to someone else, “How are you good at this?”

“Tito used to tell me I had a career in deep tissue massages in my future,” You joke, Tyson’s head falling back to look at you while he let out a laugh, “Sometimes I think he just wanted to save a trip to the rink…do you mind if I-?”

You were tugging at Tyson’s shirt, waiting for him to nod in response and grab it from the back and toss it off. You never took the time to look at Tyson like this, eyes scanning over his skin and taking him in. Scars on his skin, no doubt from his choice in sport and one from that time Mat took roughhousing too far over the summer. Your finger curled around a loose curl at the base of his neck, Tyson letting out a hum, “I like the curls grown out Tys.”

“Keep pulling on them,” Tyson grunts, the words falling through his lips before he could stop them. You let out a small giggle, Tyson thanking his lucky stars you didn’t just hit him. He turned around, a glimmer in his eyes that you’d seen dozens of times before. Your hand stayed in his hair, gripping his hair softly when Tyson’s lips finally landed on yours. It was slow at first, testing out the waters and Tyson waiting for the blow of rejection. His hand was on your waist, hand slipping under your shirt and rubbing your skin softly. His lips moved down your neck, scruff tickling your skin, “Been wanting this for a while…”

“Yeah?” You muse, tilting your head back while Tyson’s teeth sunk into them. His grip got tighter, your breath hitching in your throat.

“If you don’t count the years I spent wondering what the fuck you and Mat were, then every summer for the past four years,” Tyson’s eyes had gotten a shade darker, flipping you over so you were underneath him, “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, or that I’ve been mentally undressing you for years.”

“Now’s your chance Tys, don’t blow it,” You chirp, waiting for Tyson’s laugh to follow, except it didn’t. Tyson’s hands pulled yours over your head, grip tight on your wrists. What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot. Mat’s words were spinning your head, taunting you because there was a chance he was actually right.

“Don’t move them,” Tyson grits, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands pulled your shirt off slowly, stifling a groan when his suspicions about your lack of bra were true, “Be a good girl-”

“Or what?” You smirk, wondering how many buttons you could press before Tyson just railed you. This was new, welcome, and maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Tyson was the boring type behind closed doors.

“Or I’ll fuck you until you’re begging to cum, but I still won’t let you,” Tyson mutters, his lips pressed against your skin while his fingers hooked under your shorts, “So are you going to be good for me?”

Tyson waited for your answer, gaining himself a plus one in your book on consent and when you nodded, your shorts and panties came clean off. Tyson hooked your thighs over his shoulders and pressed a kiss to your clit lightly, “Don’t tease Tys.”

“Am I the first person who gets you like this?” Tyson groans, watching the way your hips were squirming every light kiss he pressed around your pussy. You were an alpha female, Mat’s words, never Tyson’s, and that meant that under most circumstances you were in charge.

“Yes,” You whimper, desperate for some sort of relief. Tyson had you wound up, in a position you were used to being in and you were eating up every bit of it. He finally gave in, Tyson’s well skilled tongue swirling around your clit, pulling a moan out of you that echoed through your empty apartment. You clasped your hands together, taking every bit of strength you had not to tug on Tyson’s curls, “Fuck, Tyson let me touch you.”

“Not what we agreed to, princess,” Tyson reminds you, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit. His tongue slid up your folds, Tyson climbing back up your body and letting his spit slide down his tongue and into your mouth, “Taste yourself babe.”

You nod, obliging happily with Tyson, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head at how fucking hot this was. His lips landed on yours, reminding you just how good you were being against your mouth. Tyson’s hand grabbed one of yours, intertwining your fingers with his, “Tyson, please I wanna cum so badly.”

“Where?” Tyson hums, sucking at your skin, undoubtedly leaving you a little gift to cover up for your first day of class.

“On your cock,” You bat your eyelashes, playing into Tyson’s game because you needed some release, “All over it, please-”

Tyson kicked off his boxers, taking his own cock in his hand and pumping it a few times. He tapped your clit the head, smirking when you moaned underneath him. This was better than he imagined, all of those unwanted dirty dreams about you that seemed to be more frequent over the summer. You let your free hand move, Tyson’s head thrown back when you lined his dick up your core, guiding him inside of you, “God, you feel so fucking good.”

Tyson dropped your hand, both of his large hands gripped your hips tightly while he slammed into you. Your legs with shaking from pleasure, “Fuck, right there, please I’m so close-”

Tyson wrapped one of your legs around his waist, hitting you deeper. His arms were on both sides of your head, his lips pressed up against your ears when he spoke, “Cum for me princess.”

Tyson’s deep groans sent you over the edge, your pussy fluttering around his cock while he fucked you through your orgasm. His lips parted, hips sputtering when he pulled out and came all over your stomach with a loud fuck. You both fell silent, the realization that you broke your own rule about Mat’s stupid friends washing over you. It wasn’t regret, it was something you couldn’t quite explain. Tyson finally fell next to you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, letting his light kisses trail down your shoulder, “Let me get the shower ready for you.”

You nod, letting your eyes follow Tyson’s ass as he wandered through your place in search of your bathroom. An aftercare king too? Maybe you were biting off more than even you could chew with this one. You grab your phone, rolling your eyes at Mat’s unanswered texts complaining that you’d already replaced him with Tyson. Your fingers dance across the screen, typing up the text you’d been meaning to send since Tyson was at your front door.

You could’ve warned me Tyson got hot, you know?

You didn’t even last two weeks did you?

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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