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matchingbatbites · 1 month ago

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Eddie doesn't like sports.

Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.

The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.

Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.

Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"

"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.

"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"

Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.

Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.

It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-

"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"

Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.

Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.

It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.

The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-

And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"

Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."

The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."

Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.

It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?

He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.

Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.

Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.

#inspired by that one video of bbno$#because it's so eddie coded #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #hockey player steve harrington #joey writes

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thrashkink-coven · 2 months ago

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Super easy and cheap devotional acts for beginners.

A nice cup and some clean, fresh, water on the altar can often be all you need for daily offerings

Grow a plant on your altar, use your weekly watering as a devotional act. Hermes is currently helping my peace lily grow :)

Draw their sigil on your nails and then paint over them with nail polish that matches their color correspondences.

If you can’t acquire alcohol for your deities (wine, vodka etc) because you’re too young, white vinegar also works. The quality we’re looking for is the purification aspect. White vinegar is natural, antibacterial and never goes bad. You can leave it on your altar until it evaporates if you want.

If you work with a deity involved with self love like Aphrodite, investing a little more time into your skin care and scent can be very rewarding. Nothing super boujie, it can be as simple as getting some nice smelling lotion at the dollar store.

Food and water offerings don’t have to be external, especially if you’re in the broom closet and don’t have an altar. Reserve the first bite of your meal for your deity. Savour its taste while you think about them. Pour yourself a crisp glass of cold water and guzzle it as a devotional act.

Use a washable or dry erase marker to draw sigils on your shower wall for bath rituals. It’ll come right off when you’re done.

Tea bags are just bags of dried herbs. You can use these as offerings or draw sigils on them and burn them for witchcraft. No one is ever suspicious about a little tea. Adding a tea bag to your water offerings also gives them an extra kick.

A couple dollars at the thrift store will take you a long way. I love thrifting items because they’re usually well loved. I especially like thrifting spirituality books that past practitioners have written in. Sometimes my deities communicate with me through the books that are available on any given day. If I was just talking to Leviathan about the power of water and I see a book about Hydromancy, I know that he’s sending me a sign. Like, 90% of the books Lucifer has sent me popped up at the thrift store. Most expensive one was $7.99. (and I tag swapped it for 2.99 😊 thanks, Hermes-

and on this note, literally steal. Not from small local thrift stores, but I mean this with my whole chest, steal from Value Village. If you can sneakily swap a tag and get something for cheaper literally do it. Value Village gets all their inventory for free I literally do not care. Corporate thrift stores don’t deserve rights. I steal from Value Village as a devotional act to Hermes 😊 lmao )

If you don’t have money to spend on really nice paintings and posters of your deities for your altar, start buying books about them. It’s a double win. A book about Greek religion will certainly have multiple beautiful sculptures and paintings of Aphrodite that I can cut out and put on my wall. A book about angels might have a cool painting of Lucifer. Books about Goddesses, ancient religions, anthropology, astrology etc. You get the opportunity to learn, and if it’s a book you don’t particularly care too much for, you can take it apart for imagery. People ask me all the time where I got all of my paintings and pictures from. BOOKS.

Does your deity have a kind of complicated sigil that you love but you also kinda hate redrawing every other day? Sorry Cerberus (Naberius) I love you but that sigil is so complicated babe.

Learn how to block print! It’s very simple. You get a block of linoleum (usually pretty cheap, I think mine were like $5) , some ink (~$10), and a carving tool (varies depending), and make a sigil stamp! All you gotta do is draw your sigil and carve it out nicely one time. You can still bless it and imbue it with your energy, and you can easily put it on prayers, talismans etc.

Chalk is your best friend. Use it to draw sigils on the floor or wall that can easily be wiped away. You can imbue special chalk and use it for casting circles if you don’t like the mess of salt.

#pagan #paganism #demonolatry #deity worship #deity work #deity witchcraft #grimoire #witchcraft #witch community #witch aesthetic #magick #witchblr #helpol #occultism #baby witch

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ukdropletuk · 1 year ago

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How To Find A Professional Cleaner Open in ST. John, London?

Residents and businesses alike can now sigh relief as a professional laundry cleaner open in st. Johns, London its doors to serve the community. This new addition brings convenience and cleanliness to a bustling area where the demands of daily life can often leave laundry chores overlooked. Read More: https://medium.com/@ukdropletuk/how-to-find-a-professional-cleaner-open-in-st-john-london-cca3fc69a950

#cleaner open in st. Johns #London #local laundry service southfields London #dry clean price In Balham #\

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citycarpetcleaningadelaide · 1 year ago

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Mattress Cleaning Adelaide

At City Carpet Cleaning Adelaide, we believe in providing you with a clean and hygienic mattress, enhancing your sleep quality and overall well-being. We are your dedicated partners in comprehensive mattress cleaning, ensuring you can rest easy in a healthier and more hygienic sleep environment. Contact us today and enjoy the comfort of a cleaner and healthier sleep space.

#Mattress Cleaning Adelaide #Mattress Cleaning #Adelaide #Mattress steam cleaning #Mattress dry cleaning #Professional Mattress Steam Cleaning Services #Local Mattress Cleaners

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alwaysgreenclean · 3 months ago

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How Clean Carpets Contribute to a Productive Work Atmosphere

A clean workplace environment plays a critical role in fostering productivity and maintaining employee morale. One often-overlooked aspect of office cleanliness is the condition of the carpets. Commercial carpet cleaning ensures a healthier, more pleasant workspace, positively influencing the work atmosphere and overall efficiency. Let’s explore how clean carpets contribute to workplace productivity.

Promote Healthier Indoor Air Quality

Carpets in commercial spaces act as filters, trapping dust, allergens, and bacteria over time. Without regular cleaning, these pollutants can accumulate and negatively affect air quality. Poor air quality can lead to allergies, respiratory issues, and fatigue, reducing employee productivity. Professional commercial carpet cleaning removes these harmful particles, ensuring a cleaner and healthier environment that supports focus and efficiency.

Reduce Employee Sick Days

Dirty carpets are a breeding ground for germs and bacteria, which can contribute to illness. By investing in regular commercial carpet cleaning, you eliminate these risks, reducing the likelihood of employees falling sick. A healthy team is a more productive team, and clean carpets play a key role in maintaining workplace wellness.

Enhance Comfort and Morale

A clean office is a comfortable office. Stains, odors, and visible dirt on carpets can create an unpleasant environment, leading to distractions and discomfort. Commercial carpet cleaning keeps carpets fresh, odor-free, and visually appealing, helping employees feel more comfortable and motivated to perform at their best.

Create a Professional Appearance

A clean and organized workplace inspires confidence and professionalism. Dirty or worn carpets can make an office appear unkempt and negatively affect the morale of employees who spend their days in that environment. Regular commercial carpet cleaning ensures your workspace looks professional and polished, boosting employee pride and engagement.

Minimize Stress and Distraction

Clutter and dirt in the workplace can be a source of stress and distraction. Employees are more likely to stay focused in a clean and well-maintained environment. Commercial carpet cleaning eliminates the visual clutter caused by stains or discoloration, creating a space that supports concentration and productivity.

Address High-Traffic Areas for Consistency

High-traffic areas in commercial spaces often show wear and tear faster, creating inconsistencies in the appearance of your carpets. This can lead to a sense of neglect in the workplace. Professional carpet cleaning restores these areas, ensuring a uniform and well-maintained look throughout the office, which fosters a sense of pride among employees.

Protect Employee Safety

Carpets that are not regularly cleaned can develop mold, mildew, or slippery surfaces from spills. These pose safety risks to employees and visitors. Commercial carpet cleaning eliminates these hazards, creating a safer work environment where employees can perform their tasks without concerns for health or accidents.

Show Employees You Care

Maintaining clean carpets demonstrates that you value your employees’ well-being and comfort. A clean workplace sends a message that their health and productivity matter, boosting morale and encouraging a stronger work ethic.

Commercial carpet cleaning is an essential investment in creating a productive and positive work atmosphere. By promoting health, comfort, and professionalism, clean carpets contribute to a space where employees can thrive and perform at their best. Schedule routine carpet cleaning to elevate your workplace environment and support productivity.

#commercial carpet cleaning #professional carpet cleaning #office carpet cleaning #industrial carpet cleaning #retail carpet cleaning #deep carpet cleaning #stain removal for commercial carpets #odor removal services #eco-friendly carpet cleaning #high-traffic area carpet cleaning #steam carpet cleaning #hot water extraction carpet cleaning #quick-dry carpet cleaning #carpet sanitization #allergy-friendly carpet cleaning #commercial rug cleaning #affordable commercial carpet cleaning #certified carpet cleaners #carpet maintenance programs #carpet cleaning for hotels #restaurant carpet cleaning #healthcare facility carpet cleaning #school carpet cleaning #carpet deodorizing #corporate carpet cleaning #local carpet cleaning #carpet cleaning near me #reliable commercial carpet cleaning #best commercial carpet cleaning services #large-scale carpet cleaning solutions.

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tightwadspoonies · 4 months ago

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How to Shop at an Asian (or other ethnic) Grocery Store

Do you live in or near a city in the US?

Need to save some money on groceries?

Might I introduce you to... shopping at the local Asian grocery?

Asian grocery stores aimed at an Asian-American customer base almost always beat the prices of their western (or for-western) counterparts. Often by a significant amount, especially in categories like produce, meat, rice, and spices. Plus in addition to lower prices, you get the satisfaction of supporting a small, local business instead of a larger chain store.

(Note that a lot of this information applies to other ethnic grocery stores as well, but we're using Asian because they're common in many cities, and have particularly good prices on produce.)

But it can be a little bit of a learning curve when you first start to shop at them. This post will give you the information you need to navigate them.

So how do you find a good Asian grocery store?

First, go on google maps and search "grocery".

Note that you are NOT googling "Asian Grocery" or "Cheap Grocery". If you search "Asian Grocery" you will get results for Asian stores marketing toward a western audience, and because of this, will be neat, shiny, and very pricey. If you search "Cheap Grocery" you will get stores marketing themselves as cheap, which generally are only slightly less expensive than their "expensive" counterparts (think Aldi). Okay in a pinch, but you can do better.

Second, look at the pictures of all the stores you can easily get to.

Here's what you want: not a lot of printed ads, pictures of hand-written signs (especially in languages other than English), food in cardboard bins, and you want it to look kind of "junky". Bonus points if you can see prices listed in the pictures or the people shopping there are mostly older, ethnic women.

Third, If you couldn't find anything like this, go on your city's subreddit.

Search "cheap", "cheap grocery" and "expensive grocery". Why "expensive grocery"? Because you want to find people complaining about grocery prices, and you want to see the advice they get. Many times, that advice is Asian or ethnic grocery stores.

If you're still not getting anything, google "[city name] cheap grocery" and "[city name] expensive grocery" (see above). Scroll until you get to FORUMS discussing groceries in your city. You DO NOT want blogs or articles. Again, you're looking at the advice people are given when they complain about grocery prices.

One of the first questions people ask upon walking into an Asian grocery store of the type discussed in this post is:

"Is the food I'm getting here safe to eat?"

The answer is just as safe as anywhere else you might shop.

You're probably used to very clean, pretty, well-lit, well-organized stores. This will probably not be that, but it will be regulated by the same health department that regulates those stores. They are held to the same standards.

It's a lot of work to keep a store looking like a western consumer expects. It's a lot less work (and thus less money) to keep a store looking like an ethnic career housewife or grandmother expects. That is largely where the savings comes from.

What's a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Produce. You're probably used to things like onions and carrots being the cheapest per pound. Here it's going to be greens, apples, pears, radish, cabbage and maybe squash and sweet potatoes. Check unit prices and prepare to try some new things. Also a pound of greens is a LOT of greens. Keep that in mind. Also keep in mind that you might see a few pieces of produce that are bruised or have mold on them. That's okay. Just don't buy those pieces. The rest of the batch is probably fine. Wash produce when you get home if you're concerned, though you should be doing that anyway.

Rice and dry beans. If you like to buy in bulk, you're in luck. Don't expect to walk away with a pound or two of these. They come in 40lb packages. But if you tailor most of your meals around them, those meals will be cheap af. There are also lots of different types of specialty rice if you want to make your own sushi or mochi. Learn how to soak and sprout beans.

Tofu. Tofu is expensive when you buy it at a health food store. It is not when you buy it at an Asian grocery. It probably won't be in pretty packages, but again, cheap is not going to be super pretty.

Meat and fish. Meat is generally going to be cheaper here, though maybe not by as much as the produce is. Pork will probably be your cheapest option. You may also see cuts you don't normally see, like tongue, intestine, liver, kidneys, blood, etc... "Weird," however, does not automatically mean cheap in this context. Check unit prices and prepare to be adventurous. If you don't know what else to do with them, dried fish and animal organs make fantastic stock when boiled.

Spices. Again with the extremely large quantities here. But very inexpensive compared with their western counterparts.

Candy. This makes a great inexpensive gift if you need one, since the candy sold at these stores is fairly exotic for a western audience.

What isn't a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Dairy. This includes fresh milk, butter, cheese, etc... If they have it, it will be very expensive. Consider buying elsewhere.

Eggs. Again, this will probably be as expensive or more than the eggs you could get at a western supermarket.

Snacks. Pre-made items will be expensive in general, even though they may be tempting because they are different from what you are used to and you don't need to learn to cook a new thing. Do your best to avoid these and make your own if you can. If you can't, frozen pork or vegetable dumplings are probably your best bet for a quick meal.

Bread. It's pricey. A lot of Asian cuisines use rice, noodles, or buns for their starch instead of western-style bread. So if you can find it it will often be a novelty item.

What else do I need to know?

It's okay to be overwhelmed by new ingredients. Look up some YouTube videos on how to cook certain ingredients if you're not familiar with them.

These are not supermarkets. They sell food and sometimes the kitchenware (steamers, woks, chopsticks, etc...) needed to cook it. You will probably need to get your soap and household items somewhere else.

Pay in cash if you can. Most of these are very small businesses and paying them cash makes it so they don't need to pay credit card fees. At the very least, make the minimum purchase before paying with a card.

#food #tightwadery #groceries #Asian Grocery Stores

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jjkbambi · 1 month ago

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frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

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joeyfranchise · 6 days ago

Text

do you picture me?

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: after dealing with the aftermath of a bad day at work, lingering frustrations from a fight with joe and him being gone due to an away game… you find yourself pent up and needing relief. little do you know, joe’s feeling the exact same way.

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ only. mdni. (masturbation (m&f), lewd images… etc.)

word count: 3.2k.

note: i had this idea while listening to picture you by chappell roan!! :) ily ily as always commentary, asks & feedback welcome!!

you hated being so pent up, feeling so close to the edge like this.

nothing had gone your way for nearly a week and it was all becoming too much, you were ready to break-through this horrible funk you’d sunk into and get back to feeling normal. you wanted to leave work, go home, get comfortable, and talk to joe.

unfortunately, your boyfriend was away from home for a game, and the two of you hadn’t been on the best terms when he left.

the fight you had was the catalyst for your bad week, and although it was over something pointless that you could barely remember now, you and joe were both too stubborn to apologize to one another. he ended up leaving for the game without so much as a goodbye, and he’d only pinged you with his location when the team made their arrival to pittsburgh, home of one of their divisional rivals.

you sent back a petty thumbs up even though you were dying to talk to him, and somewhere over on the east coast joe’s fingers were flexing by his phone… he was seconds away from breaking too.

the next day you were swamped with work, endless reports to file and countless calls to take and it sucked every ounce of energy from your body. you left work feeling exhausted, your lids heavy as you slid into the driver’s seat of your car and started it before heading home.

you’d made it home safely and you knew you needed to cook dinner, but you were parched. you pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge and untwisted the cap, ignoring the bit of crust that fell off when you pulled it away. you brought the jug to your lips and took a hefty swig - something you wouldn’t normally do - and you immediately wretched. it was sour.

you slammed the jug down on the counter and ran to the bathroom, practically throwing yourself over the toilet as you started to gag from the congealed dairy you almost swallowed. needless to say, that did you in for the night.

you woke the next morning still feeling nauseous, and tacking on the sadness of an empty bed next to you and a dry phone on your bedside table was the icing on the proverbial cake. you slowly rolled out of bed and made your way to the kitchen to at least make coffee, forgetting you’d left the already sour milk out on the counter overnight.

you quickly disposed of it before trudging back to your room to get dressed to go out and grab a coffee, because you couldn’t make it at home without milk.

heading over to your favorite local coffee shop gave you a much needed serotonin boost, and your drink was delicious, but your spirit was torn right back down when your favorite barista handed you two chocolate chip cookies - the thing you and joe always came here for.

it stung immediately, knowing you hadn’t talked in a few days. you were so close to caving and you missed him horribly, but you also hated admitting you were wrong, so it was a sticky situation all around. you thanked her and headed out to your car, eager to get back home and tidy up the house before resuming your much needed bed-rotting session.

—

once you arrived back home you began cleaning immediately, knocking out the pesky dishes first and then focusing on your other tasks like folding laundry, sweeping, and dusting.

your cleaning playlist was set to shuffle, and the loud music flowing through the areas of the house you had your attention on helped your mood improve. you danced and sang along, swaying your body to the rhythm as you worked to tidy everything up, which took way less time than you expected.

you had long since finished your coffee, and when you looked at the clock on the stove you realized only a few hours had passed, giving you more free time in your evening than you knew what to do with.

you decided on taking an everything shower, hoping the hot stream would help you release some of that tension you’d been holding so tightly in your back and shoulders. you quickly rushed to the bathroom and took off your clothes, placing them neatly in the basket next to the shower door before turning the water on. you opened a drawer next to the sink and grabbed out a eucalyptus scented shower steamer and tossed the tiny puck inside before stepping in yourself.

the comforting scent of eucalyptus enveloped you immediately. you stepped under the shower head and let the hot water run down your body, soothing over the tensed muscles of your back and neck. first, you made sure your hair was well saturated before squeezing some of your favorite shampoo into your hands and lathering it in, scratching your nails over your scalp in a relaxing manner. once you were satisfied with that you rinsed it before raking conditioner through your ends and slowly rinsing it out moments later.

as you squirted some of your coconut scented body wash onto your loofah, you let your mind slip to joe… and what he’d done to you in this shower just before your fight, just before he left for pennsylvania. you tried to push the thoughts from your mind as you washed your body off, but it was hard once your movements traced over places where his hands had been.

it was almost like you could still feel the phantom of his lips against the shell of your ear, whispering dirty things to you.

“you’re so beautiful like this, all for me.”

“that’s it baby, just like that. look how well you’re taking me.”

standing under a burning hot stream was how you found yourself now, yet still, you shivered. you quickly finished scrubbing your skin and rinsed yourself off, using every bit of willpower you had to push joe from your mind… but your resolve was slipping.

he was overtaking you.

you decided to cut the shower short, you didn’t really need a shave anyway. what you needed was to do your skincare, dry your hair, make dinner and maybe even read some. those things always helped you relax, and you needed a distraction to push him from your mind.

you turned the water off and stepped out of the shower and quickly grabbed your towel, wrapping it around your dripping body as you shivered slightly. you stepped closer to the mirror and looked down at all your skincare products laid out before you in the basket you always kept by the sink, but you couldn’t bring yourself to start your normal routine. your mind still lingered on joe. you wanted to push it away… but you couldn’t. you were still thinking of the way his hands felt against your skin that morning when he’d pushed you against the wall under the water, the way he’d kissed and nipped at your neck as he lifted you up and filled you as he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

the calloused pads of his fingers had traced every inch of your body, running along your curves as he took you apart, his strong tight grip held you into place as he unraveled you against the tile wall. you felt every single inch of him with every thrust and… oh. you’re starting to feel hot.

you could feel the heat pooling between your legs as you stood in front of the mirror completely zoned out, staring off into space as you thought about joe more and more. fuck skincare too.

you quickly exited the bathroom and made sure the blinds were drawn as you stepped back into your room, holding the towel tightly against your naked frame. once you were satisfied with the darkness in the room - not too dark but with no lights on, and faint shadows along the walls from your dark curtains - you dried your skin as fast as you could, your body now covered in gooseflesh.

you wrapped your hair up in a different towel and walked to the closet, searching for a box you kept on one of the shelves by your shoes. a giddy feeling bubbled up in your stomach and spread over your body as you searched for it, you hadn’t done this in ages… but based on the way you were feeling and the thoughts you were having about joe… you needed it.

you located the box and stretched up to grab it, eagerly pulling it down from the shelf and carrying it back into the room before placing it on the bedside table where you’d also left your phone.

inside the box were several long unscented candles encased in glass, you only used them for rare occasions like this when you needed to set the mood. you pulled them out gingerly along with the lighter you kept in the box, and you placed the candles on top of the nightstands next to both sides of the bed before lighting them.

you shivered with excitement before moving the box to the floor and dropping your towel, then hopping up onto the bed.

in the drawers of the table next to you there were many toys from an experiment you and joe tried once, and though nothing was as good as the real thing, you thought about using one of them for your escapade… you grabbed out a small blue bullet vibrator and placed it on the nightstand next to your phone just in case you needed some extra help.

you shimmied up the bed until your back was pressed against the headboard, and then you took a deep breath. you let your eyes flutter shut as you began to trace your hands along your skin, goosebumps still covering your body. you imagined they were joe’s hands skimming the expanse of your body, that joe’s thumb and forefinger were tweaking your nipple, not your own.

in your mind’s eye you could see him clear as day, hovering above you with that sultry look in his bright blue eyes, smirk plastered across his perfectly pink lips. you pictured him running his hands along your thighs, fingers tracing and squeezing the meaty flesh, just as you were now.

you began to visualize the things he’d done to you in the shower again but… that wouldn’t be enough. you needed to think of something else. your mind drifted off to all kinds of places, all sorts of predicaments you’d been in with joe where you had to be quiet, how he’d once held a hand over your mouth at the bengals facility while he stuffed you full by the showers. you were so afraid of getting caught yet so thrilled at the same time.

you slid your right hand down your body slowly and the left continued to play with your breast, groping and squeezing and pinching just as joe would if he was here. you were shivering with excitement as your fingers reached your entrance, and you scooped up some of your arousal with your fingertips before slowly dragging them back up to circle your clit.

the next thing that came to mind was the first time you’d brought joe back to your hometown to meet your parents, after dinner he’d whisked you away to your room, eager to have his hands all over you. his lips were instantly pressed to your neck as soon as you’d crossed the threshold of your old bedroom.

he’d pulled you into him immediately, his plump lips quickly finding the sweet spot just below your ear as he worked to draw a wanton moan from your lips, one that had your eyes widening as soon as it fell from your gaping maw. you struggled to close the door behind you, but you couldn’t let your parents see or hear this. joe laughed at you then, he always thought you looked cute when you were flustered, especially in a sexual sense. he pulled you over to the bed once the door was securely closed, and he’d made you promise to be quiet for him. you’d have no trouble with that, you reminded him. you were just worried he would be too loud. he only smirked at you before kneeling near the foot of your small twin sized mattress, his fingers looping into the waistband of your pants as he pulled them down quickly along with your panties.

he eyed you hungrily as he looked you over, his eyes almost laser focused on your already dripping wet core. you had wondered what he was waiting for, he was eyeing you so hungrily and you were ready for him to bury his face between your legs, to devour you.

his gaze moved past you, he was now staring at something beside you. you turned your head confused, but your eyes met the stuffed bear you’d had almost your entire childhood. joe stood for a second and grabbed the bear, turning him so his back was facing you. “mr. wiggles doesn’t need to see this,” he laughed, getting back into his spot at the foot of your bed. his arms hooked around your legs as he pulled you down the bed, and he wasted no time burying his face in you, slurping and sucking at your clit as your hands moved to cover your mouth, loud moans threatening to pour from your lips.

you snapped back to the present moment as your fingers continued to circle your clit quickly, your body shivering from the sheer pleasure you were experiencing. it never felt as good as it did with joe, but pleasure was surely radiating over your body now.

you reached down with your other hand, looping your arm underneath your thigh, and pressed two fingers slowly into yourself. you gasped at the pleasure, your left leg was pressed up to your chest so you could fuck your fingers in and out of yourself as your right hand continued to tease your sensitive nub.

if joe was here he’d be praising you, he’d be worshiping your body.

“look how good you’re doing, baby. you’re taking it so well.”

“my pretty girl, always do such a good job for me. you were made to take me like this, huh?”

his lips would be pressed to your ear, his words a mixture of sweet nothings and simultaneously the dirtiest things you’d ever heard. you imagined his fingers working you to the edge instead of your own, slamming into you and bringing you to the brink.

you thought about all the things he’d do if he found you in the predicament, your body slightly sweaty, wet hair wrapped in a towel as you pressed yourself farther into the headboard while your hands worked you closer and closer to your orgasm.

all for him. because of him.

you imagined him standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he smirked at you and… oh, that did it. your orgasm hit you instantaneously, the pleasure blinding as you felt yourself clenching on your own fingers. it made you feel a little drunk, experiencing your peak in both ways. you moaned his name as you came, calling out to him in a plea he wouldn’t hear until he was back home, until you could apologize in person and he could pound you into the mattress himself.

you pulled your sticky fingers from your core and wiped them against your sheets, something you’d normally care a lot about… right now, it didn’t matter. you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and opened the camera before sliding down the bed, lying there against the pillows.

you posed for the photo so that joe could see your right hand still between your legs, fingertips still slowly dancing across your now overly sensitive clit. you hoped he’d be able to see the sheen of sweat across your abdomen, and your pert nipples as you pressed your arm against your tits to give him a better view.

you snapped the photo and opened your messages, frowning as you clicked on the thread and the last thing you saw was the thumbs up you’d sent. you added the image and typed him a quick message before hitting send.

you: i miss you a lot and i’m sorry. hurry back home 🥲

you locked your phone after double-checking the photo and message, you wanted to make sure it sounded right. you placed it back on your nightstand and you rolled over, burying your face in the pillows. you were spent after all of that work, and your eyes slowly closed as your breathing slowed and you fell into a light slumber.

—

joe grabbed the keycard from his pocket, quickly sliding it into the door and pulling it out before twisting the handle and stepping inside. he slid his shoes off and went straight for the bed, plopping down flat on his back as he stared up at the ceiling.

team dinner was nice, but the conversations droned on and he was exhausted, and he was missing you. he’d told himself all week that he wouldn’t come to you first, that he’d either wait until he was home to apologize or wait until you texted or called him, but his resolve was slipping.

he needed you. he needed to touch your soft, perfumed skin. he needed to press his lips to every inch of your body… but also also needed you because the game was tomorrow night, and he didn’t think he could do it without one of your pep talks. he knew you knew that too, but he didn’t want to push it in case you were still mad at him. he grabbed his phone from his pocket and his heart lurched as he saw the notification, you’d sent him a message a little over an hour ago.

he quickly unlocked his phone and immediately the breath was knocked from him as he saw the lewd image you’d attached, with a message about missing him. his anxieties flew out the window, replaced by an incessant desire for you. it was carnal, he knew he had to do everything he could now to win that game and get home to you, to take you apart and put you right back together afterwards as he often did.

he could feel his erection already growing in his pants, and with his eyes fixated on the image you’d sent he slowly reached his hand past the waistband and wrapped his fingers around his already painfully hard cock. he flicked his wrist one, two, three times as a soft moan fell past his pink lips, and his eyes fixated on the call button at the top of the screen. fuck it, he thought. he pressed it and brought the phone to his ear to listen to it ring.

after the fifth ring he thought he should hang up, he’d have to use his imagination to get himself there… but then he heard an open line, and your beautiful yet groggy voice greeted him.

“hello?” you asked, softly and innocently, but he knew you knew why he called. “baby,” he breathed out, his voice desperate as he continued to stroke himself. you giggled and he hissed, knowing he was fucked. he heard you clear your throat before responding, his hand never stilling on his cock.

“is there something i can help you with?”

photos and dividers are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @slimshiesty @yelenasbraid @definitelynotdomanique

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