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macfrog · 9 months

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ace sex on fire chapter six

this entire chapter is me making up for 1. the golfing line in chapter two, and 2. joel's entire experience of tlou2. naughty dog i'm waiting for ur response. 24 hours to reply

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel takes you on a day trip to go golfing. it turns out to be more fun than you expected

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) golf. idk what else to say. age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, more sugardaddy!joel, discussions of pregnancy + reader perhaps not wanting children, sort of possessive!joel?, praise kink, unprotected piv car sex, daddy kink, exhibitionist fantasy, creampie, more teasing + flirting, angst + pining, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 9.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Good girl. He there?” The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare. “Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel. “He watching?” “Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily. “Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”

The cab squeaks to a halt right outside the office, dropping you at the bottom of the concrete steps leading up to the revolving door. There are already bodies filtering in and out of the building, despite how early it is.

You thank the driver – Mick, you’ve come to learn. He seems to run this route on weekday mornings; it’s always him who shows up at your apartment when you can’t be bothered to walk to work, or miss the damn bus. Mick tosses a thumbs up over his shoulder and you swing out into the brilliant sun.

It’s Thursday. You’ve been home sixty-five hours, by your count. Joel gave you a couple days after landing stateside to catch up on sleep, readjust. He’d gone back to work Tuesday morning, though, 8AM sharp. Martha had text to ask where you were, and had sent six laughing emojis back when you replied with, How the fuck is he back already?

You make the climb up the steps, back to work, back to normality. It drags like a weight at your heels, the thought of returning to that gray office after three days wandering around picture-perfect, painted-pink Paris. After three days of Joel.

That split-open feeling, the cavity between your ribs – it’s sewn itself up since you got back to your own apartment, your own space. Since you showered a couple times, washed your clothes, started smelling like yourself again instead of Joel. Its sutures are made from the sound of the subway squealing to a halt, the smell of Chinese takeout from the place across the street.

But there’s a tiny piece of you, small enough to stay hidden from even yourself sometimes, that you know misses it. Misses…him. It only hurts when you touch it – the sewn-up scar, messy in your frantic attempts to close it up – it aches when you remember his hands on your waist whenever you wanted them there, his lips below your ear whenever you needed him.

As you approach the glass doors, you hear a whistle from behind, and turn to watch Joel slip out of his Rolls and jog up the steps. There’s a sports bag hanging from his left hand.

“Am I a dog?” you ask when he reaches you.

“It was an endearin’ whistle.”

“Very endearing. Don’t do it again.”

He nods once. “Yes, ma’am. Feelin’ awake yet?”

“Almost.” You follow him into the building, clicking along the polished marble floor at his side. “You didn’t waste any time getting back into the swing of things, I hear.”

You both nod good morning to the receptionists, and Joel hits the button to call the elevator.

“I’m an important man, baby,” he says, shrugging. “My job ain’t just answerin’ the phone ‘n making coffee.”

You scoff, slapping his back as he leads you through the sliding doors, which closer over and shut you both into your first moment of privacy in almost seventy hours. Joel immediately turns to face you, words behind his eyes that he can’t seem to sort into a coherent sentence.

In what you hear as an attempt to summarize, he says: “Back to reality.”

You brush the shoulders of his blazer, tug on his tie to straighten it. It’s the most you can bring yourself to do that doesn’t involve throwing yourself at him. There’s a throbbing right below your chest, like a magnet tugging you towards the man stood in front of you. Touching the padded shoulder of his suit will have to do. For now.

You lift your eyebrows, staring at the knot of his tie. “Yep.”

It’s pretty reductive, Back to reality. But then, what else is there to say? What else that wasn’t said between your bodies in Paris? A line was crossed there – you both went somewhere you can’t come back from so easily. And moving forward the way you had been before, seems equally as impossible.

There are eyes on you here. There are people who care to know what might be going on – whether they like it or not doesn’t matter. No more strutting out onto the terrace, running your hands all over one another, connecting skin and tongue in ways you wouldn’t have dreamt up two weeks ago.

No. This stays secret. A secret between you, Joel, and the French skies.

Joel places a hand on the small of your back as the elevator doors whip open. He ushers you out, and then, once in view of Martha’s desk, sidesteps to an appropriate distance.

“Welcome back,” your colleague greets you as you approach her desk. “Missed you, kid.”

You smile coyly. “Thanks,” you mumble. Guilt isn’t the easiest of emotions to hide.

Joel taps your arm gently and then nods towards his office. “Catch-up,” he says, and Martha rounds her desk to follow after him.

You drop your jacket and purse over the back of your chair and slip in behind them, leaning back on one of Joel’s leather couches with your arms crossed.

“Alright,” Martha sighs, “few things needing done this morning. First…”

You take a deep breath and slump down until your ass sits comfortably on the couch cushion, your knees draped over the arm, cradled inside your elbows.

Joel notices, and smirks to himself. He dials into his voicemail, hits a button, and a familiar voice echoes from his desk.

“Hey, Joel,” Drew’s voice says, “hope you enjoyed Paris ‘n aren’t still too hungover. I know what Jean-Marc’s like…”

Martha moves to the next bullet point, tilting her pad and tapping the tip of her pen to some messy scrawling you can’t read. You nod, eyes flitting up to watch Joel.

“Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re still good for later. S’posed to be a good day for it. Let me know if you need any help with directions. Alright. Looking forward to seeing you two soon. Cool.”

The machine cuts. Joel sits back in his chair, rests his heels on the wood in front of him. Black, shiny, ridiculously expensive shoes crossed over on top of a black, shiny, ridiculously expensive desk.

“…now, Ken needs to receive this as soon as possible, alright? I said I’d have it done by end of day yesterday – I did not, so I need you to –”

“Who’s you two?” you ask Joel, peering over Martha’s notepad.

He looks up, tossing a rubber band ball in his hands. “You ‘n me, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry,” Martha declares, “am I talking to myself–?”

You push her notepad out of your view, still staring at Joel. “What do you mean, you ‘n me?”

Martha drops her hands with a sigh. You repeat your question.

“Us,” Joel says, hint of irritation in his voice like you’re supposed to be in on something. “We’re goin’ golfing with him.”

“We’re going golfing?”

Martha, now exasperated, swings the pad under her bicep and crosses her arms over her chest, makes something of a growling noise. “You two are unbeliev…Are you listening to me?” she demands, clicking her fingers in front of you.

“No,” you reply simply, eyes locked on Joel’s.

His lips curve with a soft laugh. “You ain’t read your emails?” he asks.

Your head darts between him and Martha. Bewildered. “I was catching up on sleep, thank you very much,” you assert, nodding with finality at the blonde updo hovering over you.

You know she cares about you – at least enough to water your monstera deliciosa while you were gone – but Martha can be sharp; her outspokenness is something to admire and to fear, in one small five-foot-three frame.

She snorts, glancing over to Joel with a disbelieving shake of her head, but he doesn’t take her up on it. Just looks at her blankly and then turns back to you.

“We’re meeting Drew up at Aspen Heights. Few of his buddies are in town, he wanted to introduce ‘em to me.”

“And I’m coming – why?”

“Because he met you last week, musta liked you, ‘n he invited you.”

Your mouth opens to reply, some retort to bring into question the need for your presence at a fucking round of golf, when Joel and his words cut yours short in your throat.

“And I want you there with me.”

Martha raises her eyebrows when you look up at her. The thing is: this all seems very normal, from her perspective. You did such a good job at keeping Joel right in Paris, didn’t you? He made his flight there on time, he met with Jean-Marc without a hitch, and he was actually an hour early for his flight home.

That last part was because you’d woken up with the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep, so you woke him, too and…well. Kept each other busy until you physically couldn’t anymore. There wasn’t much point hanging around in the hotel suite when your cases were packed and your bodies were…fragile, so you left for the airport.

To her ignorant eyes – and bless her – this is all just networking. It’s you building work relationships, Joel at the helm overseeing everything and setting it all up for you. This is clear – that that’s all she thinks – when she says:

“He’s doin’ you a favor, sweetheart. You should go.”

“I don’t even have any golfing gear. I’m in suit trousers.” Your eyes trail down your black pinstripe pants, legs dangling from the arm of the couch.

“And you look fantastic,” Joel quips, though you know he’s half-serious, “but you do gotta find somethin’ more…” he waves a hand, “…golf.”

“Something more golf. That’s helpful.”

“Here,” he says, stretching into his back pocket. His hips lift from the seat of his chair, and your eyes land on the space just south of his belt buckle. He pulls his credit card from his wallet – the same one you could probably recite the numbers of by heart at this point – and holds it out. “Go grab somethin’ nice. My treat.”

My treat. Like he didn’t treat you all damn weekend.

You pull yourself up and take the card from his fingers.

“’n what about my list?” Martha asks.

Joel shrugs. “Ken can wait one more day. You got two hours,” he tells you, and then sits up straight, rubber band ball placed safely next to his Newton’s cradle. “I’ll have Rand take you.”

You follow Martha out of Joel’s office when his phone starts ringing and his head falls into his hands, letting you both know it’s not a call you want to be around to hear. As he lifts the handset, he lightly calls your name, and you exchange a sly smirk as you slip out the door.

Martha wanders off behind her own desk as you pull your purse over your shoulder. She loads her computer back up, chin lifting as she squints through her glasses at the screen.

“There’s a golf shop downtown,” she tells you, two index fingers tapping away on the keys. “Alan uses ‘em. Don’t think they’re too expensive, either. Wouldn’t know for sure, though, he spends so damn much anytime he’s in there.”

You watch her for a moment, nodding along. “Thanks, Martha.”

She holds up a finger as you walk past her desk toward the elevator. “Remember you still got my to-do list to tackle, so don’t be long!”

----------

Rand drops you on a quiet side street. He gives you his number, tells you to text him once you’re done, and the sleek black car rolls off.

On the corner sits Ace’s Pro Golf, a small, charming store, peeling wooden front painted fern green with golf-themed decals decorating the windows. You set off inside, passing under two transparent putters crossed over one another on the window above the door. An old brass bell rings out from overhead when you enter.

Its exterior is misleading. This store is huge. Overwhelmingly huge. Walls stacked with bags, clubs dangling from pegs. Baskets of balls and tees and other accessories dotted all over the creaky wooden floors, which are lined with racks upon racks of golfing clothes – shirts, trousers, dresses, skirts.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, edging towards the rails.

You slip between them, hand running along the multicolored choices, when your phone starts to ring, vibrating somewhere deep in your purse.

“Hey, Mom,” you mutter, slipping your cell between your cheek and your shoulder as you begin to search through the shirts in front of you.

“Hey, baby,” her voice sings to you. “Wasn’t expecting to catch you, thought you’d already be at work. Where you at?”

You sigh. “I’m shopping. Joel’s taking me golfing later.”

She almost chokes down the line. “Golfing?”

“Yeah. It’s this friend he went to school with, I met him at lunch last week. There’s a few of ‘em going, so he asked me along, too.”

“Nice guy. So, you’re shopping for an outfit?”

“Mhm.”

“Any…dress code?”

“Dress code?” You straighten up, switching the phone to your other ear. “Like, golfing gear? I dunno.”

She laughs. “Alright.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! Nothing, baby.”

“Meant something, Mom. Tell me.”

“No, I just…” She sighs. “You’re sure this isn’t, like…It sounds an awful lot like a date. Like, you’re going on Joel’s arm.”

You’re silent. You suck in a deep breath, fixing an order of words in reply, when your mom cuts in again.

“I bet I’m way off. Forget I said anything.”

“Yeah, gross,” you refute, metal hangers squealing against the rail when you unfreeze. “No. Not a date. It’s, like, networking, or whatever.”

Mom snorts. “Right. Exactly.”

“Not – a date,” you repeat.

You’re relieved when she changes the subject. “Show me what you’re looking at.”

You huff, pulling the phone down and switching to FaceTime. In a second, your mom’s bright, swollen cheeks and ringlet curled hair are on the screen, and she flashes you a pearly smile.

“Was thinking maybe this…?” You angle the phone to show her a navy-blue polo shirt. “And then a white skirt?”

“Nah,” she cuts, and you flip your camera back to your face.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Too blue. You look better in neutrals. Try beige or brown. Boring colors, y’know? Blend into the walls.”

You hiss something she doesn’t need to hear under your breath and then follow it up with a slightly more polite, “Screw you.”

Her image on your screen shakes violently with how hard she laughs at herself. “I’m messing with you. You know you’ll look beautiful no matter what you choose. Wait a second, though – can you even golf?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever touched a golf club in my life.”

“Thought as much. Does Joel know you’re about to embarrass him like this?”

“He’s aware.”

“Please get him to take some videos. I gotta see this.”

“You know what,” you grumble, holding back your own laughter now, “I’m hanging up. You just solidified your place in the nursing home, you know that?”

She’s still laughing, words pushing through her cackles in desperate punches. “Wait, wait! I gotta tell you why I called you.”

“Alright, go. Thirty seconds.”

“Riley’s pregnant.”

Your face screws up. Lips curl upside down into a grimace. “Oof. Good…good for her…?”

Your mom throws her head back with a roar of laughter. “Be more enthusiastic about it. A little niece or nephew for you!”

“’s more like a…second cousin, or whatever. I bet Aunt Rose is over the moon.”

“She called me screaming this morning. I just thought you’d like to hear, being that you’re in a permanent state of baby fever.”

“Ha,” you state, blank expression never changing. It causes her to erupt into another fit of giggles. “That’s nice, I guess. For Riley. Tell her I said congrats.”

“I will. And I’ll leave out the part where you almost threw up. Alright, I’ll let you go. Good luck golfing. Come back with a hot millionaire boyfriend, maybe! Love you!”

“Yep. ‘kay. Love you. Love you, too – ‘kay – bye – bye, Mom.”

You hang up mid-laugh and her caramel cheeks disappear from the screen. You drop your phone back into your purse and slot the navy-blue polo under your arm, spinning to the rail behind you to find a skirt to go with it.

Riley, pregnant. That’s fucking insane. You two used to spend entire summers riding your bikes around your hometown, spending all of your allowance down at the mall. You swear you’re not old enough to have babies yet. Swear you’re not even old enough to be out of Mom’s house, living on your own in the city.

But then here you are, five years in, making a mental note to buy a baby gift for your cousin, on top of the pre-existing ones reminding you to message that girl who lived across the street when you were kids to say, Congrats on your engagement, and pick up a new home card for your two friends who are on their third mortgage.

Your mom finds it funny – always has. The instant repulsion you feel, the way you recoil whenever you’re asked about kids, about a partner, about a three-bed-two-bath in the suburbs with a big yard and good school nearby.

You don't think any of it's for you. And that’s fine, and every time you skate over the topic, your mom tells you it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s –

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your daydream, clutching a white skirt in your hands, “sorry. I’m sorry. No, I’m good, thanks. Sorry.”

The assistant smiles kindly and nods. Then he spins on his heel and waltzes off, disappearing behind a cardboard cutout of a golfer mid-swing.

It’s not lost on you, by the way – what your mom said. Sounds an awful lot like a date. You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t also crossed your mind. Joel, wanting you there with him. Giving you his card to buy somethin’ nice, which, after the last week, you translate roughly as: something I’ll like. Something he’ll see, and his second thought will be ripping it off your body.

His first thought will be what you’d look like taking it off for him.

And for that reason, you slip the short skirt under your arm beside the polo, and head across the store to find some more stuff to waste Joel’s money on.

----------

Rand pulls up by the curb a few yards down from Ace’s, where you’re sat on a bench enjoying an ice cream. He rolls the window down and lowers his black sunglasses.

“You bein’ paid for this?” he asks, grinning.

You nod, gleeful. “By the hour. Want an ice cream?”

He snorts when you hold Joel’s black card up between two fingers, tilting it in the sunlight. And then he puts the car in park, climbs out, and jaunts over to the ice cream cart by your bench.

He orders a three-scoop cone, and you nod in approval when he sits down alongside you, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“Respect it,” you say, cheersing your own half-finished cone against his.

----------

When you get back to work, Joel’s already changed into a crisp, clean golfing outfit. It weakens your knees a little when you saunter into his office.

A long-sleeved, dark polo shirt that shows off every curve and flex of his toned arms, paired with gray, just-tight-enough trousers. And pristine white shoes so sharp and clean you’d swear he’d had them polished just for the occasion.

You ignore the way your head lightens at the sight of him and throw yourself into the chair to his right, white back from Ace’s falling between your ankles.

“Alright, Tom, thanks for lettin’ me know,” he says, arms folded, sat back against his desk. He leans back, places the phone back in its cradle, and looks you up and down. “Have fun?”

You shrug, leaning forward to pick a piece of lint from his thigh. “Didn’t know what to get for the most part, so there’s probably stuff I don’t need in there.”

He squints down at his cell phone. “Like, uh…Duke’s Scoops?”

You stare back at him, mirroring his cheeky smirk. Your leg swings, arms cross over your chest, covering the way your breath falters. He’s seen the transactions.

“You gonna grudge me three dollars on an ice cream, Miller?”

“Six fifty,” he mutters, glancing down at his phone again to double check. His tongue runs across his top lip. You want to replace it with yours. “So…that’s at least two ice creams, pretty girl.”

“It’s a hot day. Rand deserved something to cool down. We sat on a bench in the shade ‘n had a nice chat. He taught me how to swing. Verbally,” you add, when Joel’s eyebrows lift.

“Taught you how to swing,” he echoes, and you nod.

“Did you know he used to compete? Junior league?”

He pouts his bottom lip. “Mighta come up in the, what, fifteen years since I met him?”

You beam in reply, standing up and hooking your fingers through the string handles of your shopping bag. “I’m gonna go get changed now.”

“Could just get changed in the car on the way, ‘s a thirty-minute drive.”

You lean in close, eyes flitting over to Martha’s desk to make sure she’s not watching. Your lips brush softly against his ear. “I don’t wanna take any time away from other stuff we could get up to,” you murmur, and Joel’s hand locks around yours, attempting to pull you back as you skip off.

“Be right back,” you call, letting the door fall shut on his suggestive smirk, his tight trousers, and the hard bulge beneath them.

You return five minutes later in your getup. Joel has much the same reaction as you did with him, though he’s not half as good at hiding it. He sits upright in his chair, fingers tight around the armrests.

“Uhuh,” he says, eyes diving to your legs and then resurfacing somewhere around your chest. “Let me just –” he leans over to his phone, “– call Drew, let ‘im know we ain’t comin’…”

“Shut up,” you scoff. “Looks good, though, right?”

Joel’s eyes are still trained on your bare thighs, one crossed over the other. “Looks…better than good.”

You bat your eyelashes. “Still mad about the ice cream?”

“No, ma’am. Not mad at all.”

He stands, slinging both his bag and yours over his shoulder, and walks around his desk to meet you. You give him one final warning.

“You know I’ve never played golf before, right?”

“I know,” he affirms.

“So…bringing me is kinda pointless. I am not gonna bring anything worthwhile.”

“You in that outfit,” Joel mutters – and as he passes by, he makes sure to brush his swollen crotch up against your ass – “makes it worthwhile already.”

----------

Aspen Heights is a hundred and fifty-acre course, vibrant green fairways rolling over hilly land laid out like crinkles in a sheet of green felt. Rand drives slowly up to the clubhouse, gravel crackling under the tires of the Rolls as you and Joel lean over to stare at the landscape – the unkempt, sprawling wild plants guarding the pristine course, the bunkers like giant splotches of white paint on the grass.

You turn back and look to Joel, brows knitting in an expression which could be translated as amazement, could be intrigue, or could simply be: What the fuck are we doing here?

He mirrors it, shaking his head. And it makes you laugh.

“What?” he asks, smiling.

“You could buy this place, easy. Don’t act like you don’t fit in.”

“If you think I fit in here,” he grunts, getting out of the now parked car, “you think very highly of me, angel.”

He doesn’t deny that he could afford to buy it.

The clubhouse is…much the same. Huge, grand, surrounded by a wide-open porch and fronted by a dome-shaped room, paneled by windows that reflect the scene before them.

You follow Joel’s lead, climbing the steps to the double doors by his side, staying close enough that he can guide you with a bump of his arm against yours, but far enough apart that it doesn’t look like you’re showing up together.

Inside, you follow two smartly-dressed attendants through to a room finished in dark oak, shining wooden floors under bare-bulb light figures, a solid marble bar in the center and six perfectly symmetrical high tables surrounding it.

You glance nervously around the room. Drew’s stood over by the windows with three other men – a tan guy with a white baseball cap on, fluorescent orange polo buttoned up to his neck, a shorter guy with tight black curls, fiddling with the cap of a bottle of water, and finally, a guy with dark hair combed within an inch of its life into perfect place, shoulders almost ripping through his blue polo. He looks like he’s been copy-pasted straight from a magazine called Golf Weekly, or something.

Joel takes one step across a patterned rug and Drew notices you both. He breaks off from the group.

“Hey, man.” He grins at Joel and leans over to shake his hand – well, it’s more of that slap-hand thing. They slap each other’s palms, fingers lock, one quick shake of the wrists together, and then a nod of the head. You know?

Then he leans over to you, kisses your cheek. “Sorry it’s just us guys,” he says, hand on your arm. He looks over to the three men by the window, now looking out over the course and pointing. “My girlfriend was supposed to be joining us, but she got called in to work. You two woulda gotten along, you ‘n Rach.”

You smile warmly. “That’s okay. Thanks for asking me.”

“You play much?” Drew asks, leading you both over to the windows.

You shake your head and Joel breathes a laugh.

“Total beginner,” you admit.

Drew bats a hand. “We’ll show you the ropes. This is, uh, this is Steve,” he points to Fluorescent Orange, “Caleb,” Water Bottle holds his hand out to shake yours, “and that’s Daniel.”

Up close, Daniel’s handsome. Sharp jawline, shadowed by the beginnings of stubble, a dimple in the center of his chin. He steps forward, holding a hand out, and you take it. His palm engulfs yours and squeezes – soft but sure. And then you pull away.

The men all nod to Joel, who probably nods back from behind you, and then catches you gently in his arm, cradling it around your back out of view of the others.

“We’ll be getting started soon,” Drew says, “they’re just fixing up a few buggies for us.”

Joel nods, lets go of you, and crosses his arms. You knot your hands awkwardly at your waist. He stays right by your side, though, which you’re grateful for. The last thing you need is another Jean-Marc, some cloaked assistant swooping you off away from the comfort of Joel.

“How’s business, Joel? Drew was tellin’ us about some deal you’re tryna nail.”

Daniel’s eyes are sharp, cerulean blue drilling deep into the warm brown of Joel’s, which calmly stare back. He looks a little younger than Joel, maybe on the cusp of forty, only a few light strands of grey through his deep brown fringe. There’s no wedding ring on his finger. You don’t know why you’re even looking at that.

Joel doesn’t reveal much in the way of answers. Typical of him – or typical of the Joel he is to the rest of the world. “Yeah, ‘s good. Just takin’ my time, we’re workin’ on it.”

Daniel nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He crosses his arms, biceps bulging, and then rounds on you.

“You gotta be run off your feet, chasing after him all day, huh?”

You tilt your head toward Joel. “He keeps me busy, yeah.”

Daniel leans into you, laughter crooning from his lips. It wobbles you a little, forces you one step nearer Joel’s side. You smile back, as pleasant as you can muster the courage, and he eventually leans away.

Before he can ask another question, Drew’s calling you all over to the sliding patio doors. Daniel hops back a step, nods to you, and says, “After you.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Joel cuts, stepping into the space the blue-eyed man had left specifically for you, sweeping you off as he goes.

----------

There isn’t anything about golf that intrigues you. Not even remotely. You’ve never watched it, never wanted to play it – the most you’ve dabbled in it is minigolf, and even that became a fucking bore after two anniversary dates in a row there with Blake.

Still, you watch patiently and politely as the men take their shots one by one, starting with Drew, all the way through to Daniel, who gives his driver a quick shine with a gloved hand before stepping up. On your left, Joel scoffs quietly to himself.

Daniel swings back, and his biceps swell under the tight sleeves of his shirt. You watch as his arms follow through, sending the ball hurtling through the air and well past its three predecessors.

Joel nudges your elbow.

“Ow,” you mumble, running a hand over the skin.

He gives you a perplexed look. “I said, you can use my clubs. You in there?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a little too defensively. “Just…paying attention.”

“Hm.”

The men on your right groan as Daniel strides back over to join them, a satisfied grin across his face. Your eyes trace him as he leans on his driver, one white pant leg crossing over the other.

When you turn back to the tee box, Joel’s lifting his own club from his bag. His broad, muscled shoulders flex under the dark material of his shirt; his tall figure walks over to the tee, delicate fingers dancing along the handle of the club, and he clears his throat.

And suddenly, the memory of Daniel and his stupid biceps is dust in the wind.

Joel takes, like, half a practice swing. Doesn’t even have to aim, not really. Just pulls his arms back, sucks his waist in, and goes for it.

His ball lands a couple meters ahead of Daniel’s. And you wonder when the fuck golf became this sexy.

He turns back and runs his tongue over his top lip, breathing a little heavy. The sight drives you fucking insane for the second time today. And then he’s smiling at you, jerking his head in a gesture for you to join him.

You step forward, a little shy, a little hot, and wander mutely over to him.

“I got you,” he says, and reaches for your wrist.

You move to take the driver from his hand and Joel clicks his teeth, shaking his head.

“Said I got you,” he utters, and pulls your body into his, shelling around you. His beard scratches lightly against your ear.

“Joel,” you whisper, laughing nervously and tossing a quick glance back over to the men standing just feet away. Drew just said something apparently hilarious. Caleb gives him a solid whack on the shoulder and doubles over laughing. Steve’s watching a butterfly float by.

“They ain’t watchin’,” Joel says, curving his arms around yours and fixing your hands on the handle of the club. “s just you ‘n me.”

You wriggle under his grasp and feel the hum of laughter from his chest between your shoulders, the weight of his belt riding on your ass. Your cheeks heat when his chin rests on your collarbone.

“Alright,” he says, hands tightening around your own. “You’re gonna line it up, stand with your legs a little apart, little more…”

The toe of his shoe taps your heel and you widen your stance.

“Good girl,” he whispers. A pulse shakes through your body. “Now, on your backswing, you’re gonna want your left shoulder under your chin, ‘n your hands above your right shoulder. Yeah?”

“Got it,” you mumble, so unconvincing that it makes you laugh after you’ve said it.

He gives your waist a tiny squeeze and steps back, watching as you carefully lift the club and curve it around your shoulders. You hear him from behind.

“’attagirl. Keep your knees bent, you got it.”

You take one good swing, and hit the ball on your first try, but it’s…it’s bad, for sure. It’s pretty terrible. The ball lands on this side of the fairway, muddled in amongst the longer grass of the rough. But it’s your first ever shot – least not with colored balls and spinning windmills in the way – and so when you turn back to Joel with a huge beam across your lips, your expression is reflected in his.

“Good job!” he chuckles, stalking back over to you.

“Good job,” you echo with a laugh, handing him the club. You twist and hold your hand up to shield your eyes, staring down the course. “Look where it is, ‘n look where yours are.”

He glances back over to where your sad little ball sits. “We’ll get a few drinks down those guys,” he whispers, hand on your back. “See how good they are in a few holes’ time.”

----------

You’re back in the clubhouse after finishing the eighteenth hole on something of a high. Joel managed to worsen the accuracy of your competitors only so much – your end of the deal was to improve as the round went on, which you try to argue you technically did, given that you began to land your shots on the fairway around hole seven, but your argument is let down by Joel’s reminder that, on hole thirteen, he had to dig your ball out of the bunker for you.

“And I am eternally grateful to you for agreeing to never fucking talk about it again,” you say through gritted teeth, and he laughs.

“Last time, promise.”

Drew joins the pair of you at your table and slaps an arm down on Joel’s shoulder.

“Your round, asshole.”

Joel grumbles, gives your elbow a cursory tap, and slides off to the bar. Drew takes his seat, nudges your arm.

“I am impressed,” he tells you, slurring his words a little.

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods. “I didn’t think I was so good.”

“Oh,” he shakes his head, “you weren’t. I meant I’m impressed you stuck it out.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss.

He snorts, head bobbing with the alcohol bubbling in his blood. “I’m kidding. You were great, for your first time. I’m really glad you came.”

“Me, too,” you admit.

Drew opens his mouth to say something else when a clatter from across the clubhouse interrupts him. You turn at the same time to see a waiter on his ass at the other side of the room. His metal tray rattles against the wooden floor, flutes smashed in a pool of champagne by his side.

“Oh, shoot,” Drew mumbles, setting his glass down on the table.

You push off your stool, sliding your drink alongside his, but he motions for you to stay.

“I got it,” he says, palm lightly tapping your wrist. “I got it.”

He shuffles off to the waiter, now being helped to his feet by Caleb. The last you see is Drew bending to grab the silver tray, before he’s swept out of your view by –

“Poor guy,” Daniel muses, fist locked tight around a lager. He pulls Joel’s stool out and slips onto the cushion, elbow brushing against yours.

You readjust awkwardly in your own chair and pull on the hem of your skirt.

“So,” Daniel clears his throat, the bottom of his glass scraping along the wooden tabletop, “how’d you find your first round of golf?”

You smile politely. “Uh, good. Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to be much, but it wasn’t too scary.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? Think you’ll be back?”

Your shoulders jerk with a shrug. “Maybe.”

He nods and dives headfirst into some long ramble about golf – something about the time he brought his sister and her kids here and how much worse they were than you, so you should really be proud of yourself, and he’d love to see you around here again sometime – but you’re only half listening. You’re stealing glances over at the bar, hunting for a chiseled jawline and monochrome beard.

You spot him locked between Steve and some other guy in all black, waiting for the bartender to draw up his order of drinks. He’s nodding, saying words back to the pair, but keeping his eyes locked on you.

You give him half a smile, half a, There you are, what the hell’s taking you so long? Can you come the fuck back? and hope he reads the words across your face.

“…so, as long as you stick with what you know, it’s actually a really enjoyable game.”

Daniel stares at you blankly, waiting for a response.

“Sure, sure,” you answer, after too long a pause to convince him that you were listening. “Sorry,” you close your eyes and give your head a shake, “was just checking on that waiter.”

Daniel nods. Follows the trail of your eyeline across the room, and looks back to you. “So, uh,” he clears his throat nervously, “I know this place downtown – Italian, has this big open rooftop seating area. If you’re interested, I’d, uh…I’d love to take you, sometime.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, frozen. Like, actually convinced the air in your lungs has turned to ice, frozen. Your eyes probably look like they’re about to burst out of your head, your mouth stuck in a dumb O-shape as you search frantically for the words to form a reply.

He smiles awkwardly. Watches as you blink straight back at him.

“I…” you manage, after what feels like fucking hours. “…That’s – so nice, Daniel, I – really – I’m flattered. Um…”

He interrupts, and it’s like a cold flannel on an acid burn. “Oh, Jesus. I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry.”

“No,” you shake your head, suddenly animated, “no, listen. It’s – you’re –”

Daniel’s still apologizing. “Are you – sorry, I don’t mean to assume – are you and – you and Joel…?”

His head jerks. One eyebrow cocked. His fingers press into the table, making counter-rotating circles across the gleaming surface.

You stare from his hands to his face, open-mouthed. “N-no,” you tell him, with a single shake of your head. And then you realize he’s being serious. “No, no, we’re not – no, absolutely not. We’re just – friends.”

“Right,” he says, brows knitting. “It’s just – the guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time I’ve been sat here, so I just figured…maybe…”

You follow Daniel’s gaze across to the bar again, where Joel’s still standing, this time with Drew at his side. He’s mouthing Yeah, in reply to whatever Steve’s gabbing about, but not fucking listening to a word of it.

“No,” you say again, looking Joel dead in the eye. “We’re just friends.”

You turn to look back at the slick-haired man by your side, and he nods.

“But, uh,” you look into your glass, the ice suddenly more interesting than Daniel’s hopeful expression, “you’re a really nice guy, and I appreciate you asking, but I’m…not…exactly looking for anything right now. I’m – yeah.”

“Right – no, absolutely,” he says again, flustered. His fingers wrap tight around his glass and he shifts as if to stand. “That’s absolutely fine. I just thought I’d ask, y’know?”

He laughs nervously. You feel kinda guilty. He’s being so decent about it, and he means well, but you really just wish he would…fuck off.

He isn’t given the option.

Drew comes bounding over like a golden retriever and leans in to Daniel, another freshly poured pint swinging in his fist. “You’ve improved your game, Gilbert,” he sings in your suitor’s ear. “Must be years since the last time you scored an eagle!”

Daniel copies Drew’s guffawing, nodding along. He opens his mouth to say something, but Drew jumps ahead, offering to buy him a drink to celebrate.

“C’mon, my treat,” the blond tells him, and swaggers off towards the bar, a vice grip on the blue polo shirt.

The shadow of Joel slips around your back as soon as the two figures are out of view. He brushes against your shoulders and nudges his stool nearer to yours with his foot, before sitting back into it with a sigh.

You stare at him, smirking behind your hand, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. He catches your eye and watches you for a few seconds.

Sorry, he mouths eventually, and sneaks a hand onto your thigh.

You lean into him, feeling the weight of Daniel and his proposal and his fucking Italian restaurant fall like insignificant grains off sand off your shoulders. You trace a finger along the shape of Joel’s knuckles. “I feel bad,” you whisper.

“The hell for?” his voice asks, a deep rumble by your temple.

You shrug, looking up at him. “He’s a nice guy. He asked me on a date.”

“And did you want to go?”

Your face pulls into a wince, lips flinching. “Not really.”

“Then what’d I tell you about doin’ stuff you don’t want to?”

You don’t reply. Your mind sails back to that boat ride in Paris, when he basically told you off for feeling guilty about rejecting a fucking marriage proposal, never mind a downtown dinner. It doesn’t bear thinking about what fantastic rant he’s currently bottling up where Daniel’s feelings are concerned.

Joel’s a no-nonsense guy, you know this. Known it for as long as you’ve known him. He’s rational, he’s pragmatic. He says what he thinks, and you deal with however you feel about it. He doesn’t waste time making anyone feel better with lies or cushion-soft landings. His yes is yes and his no is no. And sure, maybe there’s something in there that you’d do well to adopt, too.

But there are inconsistencies to him that you can’t work out – yet. Something that makes him break his rules. He still hasn’t shared whatever the hell Jean-Marc said to him that made him sweep you off of that terrace minutes later. He won’t admit why he keeps dragging you along to these so-called ‘work’ events.

Part of you wants to break him open, chip away at him like the sculptures in the Louvre until his beating heart is in your hands, the rhythmic pulses sharing secrets like it’s speaking in Morse code.

And part of you – bigger, stronger, wiser – hopes you never get close.

When you come back to the room, sound of glasses clinking and men’s roaring laughter washing away any thoughts of jilted boyfriends or lonely golfers, Joel lowers his head to look you in the eye.

“You wanna go?”

You nod, scrunching your nose. “That okay?”

He leans in close, as close as he reckons he can get without drawing attention, and smiles softly. “You coulda asked to go home the minute we pulled up ‘n it woulda been okay. Let’s go.” And he takes your hand.

Drew’s slung over the shoulders of some argyle-patterned men who you’re sure have spent more time drinking than they have actually on the course. He’s lifting his glass, about to toast to life, or love, or fucking golf, when Joel sneaks by behind him, never letting go of your hand.

The Rolls Royce is sat in park at the bottom of the stone steps, hazard lights blinking. Joel holds the door open as you hop in under the twinkling ceiling.

“Well?” Rand asks, looking in the mirror. You respond with a toss of your head, squinting. “Did you keep your feet straight like I taught you?” he demands.

“Honestly, I was more focused on making sure I hit the ball, Rand.”

He snorts. “Office, Joel?”

“Office, Rand.”

As the partition closes, Joel’s hand comes up to cup the back of your head. You lean into it, tilting to look at him properly through eyes glazed with tiredness, alcohol, relief to be back in only his company.

And he’s staring back, eyes flitting from yours down to your mouth when you speak.

“Did you…did you send Drew over to get Daniel away from me?”

Joel’s eyes stay fixed on your lips. “You didn’t want me to do that?”

You ignore him. You want him to answer your question. “Did you?”

And then he looks up. Searches your eyes for a second, and then says, “Yeah.”

Your stare falls down into his lap. To his closed fist, resting on his thigh. His fingers are stroking the back of your head in lulling movements. You focus on the shine of his watch. And horror sets in.

“You wanted him to stay?” Joel asks, bringing you up for air for half a second.

You’re quiet when you reply. “…No. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.”

And that’s somehow scarier. That you didn’t want this decent, attractive-enough man around you. That the entire time he sat nipping your ear, your eyes, your hands, your heart was searching all over the room for Joel. Listening for the twang of his voice, looking for him out of your peripheral. Counting every second until he sauntered back to your side.

It’s rolling. The feeling. Like a snowball gaining speed down a mountain. Starts off a twinge, a plucking somewhere buried deep in your heart, and turns and turns and turns until it’s a weight behind your ribcage. Unable to burst free.

You take Joel’s wrist and move his hand to the curve of your thigh, then lock your fingers between his. He lets you. You lift your free hand to the cut of his jawline, training your fingers down his bristled beard, and he lets you do that, too. And when you pull his face down to meet yours, lips warm and wet and starving, he opens his mouth and slips his tongue past your teeth.

Your hands are knotting in his hair. You’re leaning back, trying to pull him down on top of you, but he’s stronger. His hands take a strong grip of your waist and hoist you over the center console and into his lap, your knees pressing into the soft leather either side of his hips.

“You gonna tell me what you’re up to, pretty girl?” he asks, tipping his head back. His shirt smells like his cologne. Fresh, sharp, clean. It sends your head spinning.

Your lips find his jawline and nip kisses and bites along the sharp ridge. He tastes like whiskey, tastes like the sun, tastes like he did four days ago. Sweet and smoky and laced with something intoxicating.

Joel sighs. His hands knead into your hips, and he pushes you down, grinding you into his body.

He’s hard. Already.

“Feels like you already know,” you mutter, still peppering his neck with kisses.

He laughs the cocky way he always does when you’re on this road, heading this way. His hands find your hair again and he pulls your head back, drawing a whine from your lips.

“You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, rubbing your damp panties over the bulge in his pants.

Joel unzips his trousers and shifts the waistband loose. You move his hands and peel back the top of his boxers yourself, and he watches from under heavy lids as you take him in both hands.

“That’s – my girl,” he chokes, eyes following your pumping fists. His head tips back with a quiet groan.

You push yourself up, shuffle nearer to him until your cunt hovers over his cock, and pull your panties to the side. You’re fucking soaked, already wet enough that Joel’s thick head catches on the cusp of your entrance as you line him up, stealing a gasp from your lips.

You sink, slowly, letting him push through into your sex inch by inch, feeling yourself pull open around him. Your brows furrow, jaw falls wide at the white-hot feeling between your legs, and you look up to see your expression reflected in Joel’s.

His hands clutch at your hips. “So – fucking – tight,” he hums, eyes rolling.

You lock your knees and begin bouncing, resting your hands on top of Joel’s. You’re steadily picking up pace, each nudge of his tip against the edge of your pussy sending another spasm of stars across your quickly-blinding vision.

“Off,” Joel mumbles against your lips, fingers pinching the fabric of your shirt.

“Huh?” you ask back, looking down to where he’s already peeling it up your torso.

“Just the skirt,” he pants, desperate, “nothin’ else.”

You lift your arms and let him pull the polo from your body, tossing it onto the carpeted floor. Joel unhooks your bra and pulls the lace down, before he’s angling his hips up again, hitting you somewhere deep enough inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

And then his lips are on your naked chest, sinking into the valley between your breasts, kissing over to your nipple. His tongue flicks over and over until the bud is pointed, enough to take it between his lips and graze over it with his teeth.

Your thighs are burning. Your skirt sits bunched up on your hips, only just covering your ass as Joel’s hands press into the supple skin, lifting you effortlessly up and down. You melt into his touch, let him do the work for a few seconds as he sits back in his seat to watch your body on his.

“My good – girl,” he groans, voice thick with arousal. “You know how pretty you look right now?”

You hook your hand around his neck, draw him in a little nearer. Shake your head with a filthy smile on your lips. “Tell me.”

Joel laughs shakily. “Wanna – fuckin’ – show you off to everyone, babygirl.”

He’s kissing you slowly, his tongue pressed to yours, when you pull back and separate your lips. He’s planted a seed in your mind.

Joel’s hips stop moving immediately. “Y’okay?” he asks, light hand on the side of your head, keeping your eyes on him.

You nod, breathing heavy. “Mhm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, “just…”

You look down to your skirt, your bare thighs spread over Joel’s lap. The thought flips over and over in your head, unsure if it’s brave enough to trot down to your lips and show itself to Joel.

“Baby?”

It’s Joel, though. Same guy who bent you over his desk, same guy who fucked you senseless feet away from his flight attendants. Same guy who, a few days ago, you were in this exact position with: writhing in next to nothing on his lap.

Fuck it. Right?

“…want him to watch,” you say, in a small voice.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change, save for the way his eyes narrow. “Want who to watch?”

You look at him a beat longer, and it sinks in. He gets it.

“Yeah, babygirl? That what you want?”

“Mhm,” you reply, shifting with him when he starts moving his hips again. The car moves forward, pushing you closer into him. “Want him to – watch you fuck me.”

“Dirty girl. You want him to watch you cum for daddy, pretty girl?”

“Ye-ah,” you moan, Joel’s hands now pushing your waist down, the stretch of his cock deep inside you almost burning with pleasure.

“Yeah, you do,” he whispers, watching as your face pulls and your brows knit together.

“Only cum for you, daddy,” you whimper.

“I know, darlin’, I know. Close your eyes.”

By this point, Joel’s assured tone, his strong hands on your hips, his fucking length buried inside you, are enough to convince you. You just do as you’re fucking told – as soon as you’re fucking told.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder and feeling him turn, his lips pressed close to your ear.

“Good girl. He there?”

The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare.

“Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel.

“He watching?”

“Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily.

“Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”

You focus on the feeling of Joel, cock fucking deep into you, nuzzling against your walls and splitting you open; the sound of his voice in your ear, gently encouraging, sweetly reassuring; the smell of him, the taste of him, the heat from his skin, and…the sight of the steel-blue stare behind your eyes. The tight polo shirt. The round biceps. Watching you.

Watching you be fucked by someone else. Watching you come undone for someone else. For the same guy whose stare he couldn’t shake while he so much as talked to you. Watching your face as it twists in filthy pleasure; listening to you make sounds, whisper words, whisper daddy in the ear of your fucking boss; have him whisper words back that make your cunt tighten around him and push the image of Daniel two steps back with shock.

“Tell me again, angel.” Joel’s voice starts to swipe Daniel away.

Your eyes peel open, the backseat of the Rolls a blur as you roll your head back. “What, daddy?” you whimper.

His hand takes your jaw, holds you in line with his own. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

You breathe a laugh. It pulls across your mouth two seconds later. “M-me.”

Joel mirrors your grin. His hips buck once. You cry out. “Yeah?”

“Uhuh,” you yelp, getting louder as he snaps up into you deeper, faster, harder.

You’re drawing around him, warm and wet, feeling him deep in your stomach as your movements become sloppy and staggered. Pleasure swirls like a whirlpool between your legs, tightening, tightening, tightening.

Joel’s face sharpens into your vision. His eyes are fixed on yours. You watch his lips shape the words good girl, before he pulls your foreheads together, noses flush against one another.

“’n who fucks it like this?” he asks into your mouth.

You take a deep breath, inhaling his question, and let a satisfied exhale carry your answer back out.

“Just y-you, daddy.”

And you both fall.

You rock back and forth as the feeling drowns you both; open-mouthed, silently screaming, eyes trained on one another as you ride out your high together.

You throw your head back, eyes losing focus just inches under the stars until they blur into little white halos. Your arms lift up to lean against the tiny dotted lights, steadying yourself.

Joel’s hands clamp around your waist, holding you down on his cock as he shoots hot ropes of cum deep inside you, mixing with your own and filling you up. Your name escapes his lips hand in hand with a deep, throaty moan.

You body aches. Your cunt throbs around him, still humming with pleasure as your body curls again, falling forward until your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. His hands run up and down your spine, lips press featherlight kisses to your ear, shhing, whispering praise, bringing you slowly back into the car with him.

“Daddy…” you whisper into the soft cotton of his shirt, and you feel the weight of his cheek on your head.

His hands cup your cheeks and he lifts your face until you’re staring at one another. Your eyes are tired, you can hardly keep them open, but Joel holds you upright.

“We gotta stop this,” he whispers, and your foreheads fall together again as you laugh. “I’m gettin’ too old for it, baby.”

He’s still buried deep inside, slowly softening, but you don’t want him to go. Not yet. He reaches for your bra, helps you slip it back on, and you bend back to take your shirt in two fingers.

When you’re dressed, you sink back into him.

Joel laughs, brushing the wisps of your hair disturbed by pulling your shirt over your head. “That what you were thinkin’ about? While he was talkin’ to you?”

You smile lazily. Shake your head no. “Was thinking…about you taking me to the Italian he was talking about.”

Joel’s smile grows bigger. Biggest you think you’ve ever seen him smile before. It breaks into a laugh, a toothy chuckle, and then he kisses you.

You melt into him, tongue and teeth crashing against one another. Joel’s open palms surf along your thighs, molding around your skin. He squeezes the dimpled skin on your hips between his fingers.

“Tonight work for you?” he asks, and you giggle.

“No,” you tell him, “I got Martha’s to-do list to work through.”

He nods knowingly, eyes closing. “You want a hand with it?”

You smirk. “Can we fool around in your office between items?”

His head tips back against the headrest with an obvious expression. “What do you think?”

The car slows to a stop and Rand’s knuckles rap against the glass of the partition. You slip off of Joel’s lap, fix yourselves quickly, and then amble off back to the top floor, still a little weak in the knees.

“Home time, Martha,” Joel calls almost as soon as the elevator doors pull open.

“Excuse me?” she yells back.

He laughs. “I’m lettin’ you go early. It ain’t fair that we get to go have our fun ‘n you’re stuck here ‘til five. Let us know what needs done, ‘n then you can get goin’.”

“Ain’t that chivalrous?” Martha beams, blinking at you.

You saunter by her with a smile and toss your bag under your desk. You spin around, brace yourself against the arms of your chair, and throw yourself back against the comfortable leather.

“So,” she announces, almost fucking skipping over to you with her trusty notepad back in her clutches. “I whittled it down to just six things, so it shouldn’t keep you much longer than five o’clock…”

You lift your brows and nod along.

“…as long as you don’t find anything to distract yourselves with, that is.”

----------

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Muse (Part 1)

Daniel Wagner x Reader

Muse Playlist

WARNINGS: Angst, Cussing, Alcohol, 18+ as always.

You pull the dirty white string on the neon sign that reads ‘Yuengling’. The buzzing fluorescent light that hangs over the bar, is the latest addition to the small collection of vintage neon that flourishes the walls of the old wood paneled dive. Nashville is the Mecca of dive bars, each one having its list of regulars and ‘The Sixty’ was no different. Spending most of your nights behind the shiny lacquered bar top slinging drinks, you had come to know your regulars and knew when someone had wandered in from out of town. You had made some great friends and you knew that was hard to do in a town filled with transplants and vagabond musicians.

Usually around 10:00 your regulars would start to filter in and begin running up their nightly tabs. Most of your regulars were in their 50’s and 60’s, washed up musicians who would talk about their glory days while drinking themselves into the stupor that ruined, said career.

As far as your career… this is it. Sixty’s turned from temporary into permanent within a matter of weeks. When you moved to Nashville you had dreams and aspirations just like everyone else, but quickly found that those dreams didn’t pay the rent, and you had to find another option. You have always told yourself that one day you will really make a go at selling your art, but the time just hasn’t come. You wipe the counter down with the wet rag as you continue to daydream.

The bell on the door rings calling your attention to it, as a group of your regulars walk in, loud and chaotic as usual. The group of guys always seems to be in good spirits, like they haven’t got a care in the world, running their tab up nightly, and then arguing over who will pay. The men who you know by name at this point, have their regular orders and you have it memorized. Sometimes they throw you a wild card but that happens rarely. The guys drunkenly telling you one night about their band, ‘Greta Van Fleet’ and how when they are home from tour they like to let loose in the only bar ‘where people never find them.’ However tonight, one of the guys is noticeably missing. You sigh a relieved sigh at his absence.

You throw the rag into the sink behind you and grab three glasses as they begin to approach the bar.

“Hello, lovely!” the tall, lanky one, Sam says in his usual chipper tone. He is the youngest of the brothers and arguably the most handsome. He has chiseled, well defined features and he never fails to flaunt it. “A PBR for Jake and I, please.” He says with a smile.

You like Sam, he is always pleasant and usually has a funny story to tell you. He tips well when it is his turn to pay and he is always wearing a toothy smile. He will sometimes have a lady on his arm but usually its just him and the guys. You slide two glasses and two cans across the counter to him, remembering that he likes to pour his own beers. “Sam.” You say nodding your head. “Thank you m’lady.” he says taking the items and walking off.

Next up is Josh. He is the small but mighty, fearless leader of the crew. Twin brother of Jake and and the singer in their band. He is small statured with a curly almost mullet. He has a radiant smile that fills the room with light and warmth. He always makes sure to thank you for every single drink, and has often been spotted diving into deep, probing conversations with strangers about any and every topic. He is shockingly smart and educated on a variety of topics. You know he would be your life line on a trivia game show if ever necessary. “Whatcha want tonight Josh?” You ask him as he places his elbows on the bar rubbing his chin between his fingers. “Lets go with a Vodka Tonic tonight, please.” He smiles still pondering his selection.

You pour up the drink on the opposite side of the bar, as you hear the bell on the door ring, announcing a new patron. You look up and see their fourth. The one you thought was going to be absent for tonights night cap. Looking down immediately, as not to make eye contact you finish making Josh’s drink and slide it down to him. He looks behind his shoulder then back to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him at bay.” He says tipping his head towards you as he walks to find his brothers.

You make yourself busy as he approaches the bar to get his drink. You know what he is going to ask for but you’d never give him the satisfaction of letting him know that you remember.

He walks up and places his hands on the bar top staring at you waiting for you to say something that he can argue or insult.

This is Daniel, or as the guys call him Danny, and this is what he does, this is your dynamic. He is the drummer for the band and the only one who isn’t technically a brother. The other guys talk about him as though he is and treat him as such. He is tall and slender with a muscular build. He has caramel colored skin and strong distinguishing features. His dark curly hair perfectly framing his face. Conventionally he is gorgeous and exactly your definition of a Greek God. You always catch yourself staring at his arms, the muscles of his biceps always peeking gently from the sleeves of his shirts with perfect definition. You think of his smile when he is laughing with his friends, and the red flush that creeps across his lightly freckled nose when he has had a few drinks...

You tear your eyes away instantly and roll your eyes at yourself for even giving him the satisfaction of looking at him. You see a disgusted look cross his face and a scoff leave his mouth.

You raise your eye brows and cock your head at him showing your annoyed expression, silently asking what he wants to drink.

“Every night and you still can’t fucking remember? Double Jack and Coke…”

You glare at him and pull a glass out, making the drink quickly and pushing it towards him before you walk to the other side of the bar to check on your other patrons.

He stands there for a second just glaring at you, muttering something under his breath before walking away to meet his friends who are now sitting at a table across the room.

You wipe the counters down again, and restock the beer cooler trying to get a head start on the closing tasks, so that maybe you can get out of here at a decent time. A while later Josh approaches the bar ready for another drink.

“Same thing?” You ask.

“How long are you two going to keep this up?” He asks with a laugh, ignoring your question.

“Josh…” you say with a sigh. “Do you need another drink or not?”

“Yes, same thing. I don’t get it you know…” he says as you cut him off, “Josh!” You say with a glare.

“Okay, sorry. I just wish you two could get along.” He says.

“I don’t see that ever happening. Sorry.” You reply sliding him his drink.

He shrugs his shoulders walking back to their table.

You let out an annoyed sigh. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone. Daniel is a dick he has been since it happened. You think back to that night…

You had to cut him off. He was completely belligerent and you knew he drove separately from the other guys when you saw him clip his keys to his belt loop as he walked through the door. He was already buzzed when he walked in, you could smell the alcohol radiating off of him. After 4 more drinks over the next hour, you decided for his safety, that you no longer felt comfortable serving him. He walked up to the bar, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“I’ll….have, more... One of those…” he barely managed. You had a cordial relationship with him at this point, him never taking the time to talk to you and get to know you like the others did. Only glancing at each other from across room occasionally.

“I’m gonna have to get you some water for this round, buddy.” You would reply to him.

“NO! I want a whiskey.” He yells.

“No, you can have a glass of water or you can leave.” You reply.

“Don’t be a bitch!” He slurs.

“Leave. Get out, now!” You say pointing at the door.

“M’not goin anywhere, so you go ahead and make me that drink.” He says.

"You're being an asshole, you need to go home, now." you say.

You lock eyes with Josh across the room. ‘Come here’ you mouth to him, as he sees Daniel getting aggressive with some one else at the bar who has made a comment to him about his behavior.

“Danny, dude let’s go home.” Josh says grabbing his elbow.

“No, m’not goin, m'not ready I want another drink but this bitch won’t make it.” He says harshly in your direction.

“Daniel, you have had enough. You’re done and you’re being a dick. Pay your tab, apologize and we are leaving, now.” Josh says firmly gripping his bicep.

“I’m not paying her shit!” He replies pulling out of his grip forcefully. Danny has got some height on Josh and he is no match for him. At this point the other guys are noticing the commotion and come to help Josh reign him in. Sam walks up throwing his card on the bar, “I’ll cover it tonight, I’m so sorry. He had… a rough day.”

You nod your head at him and he gives you an apologetic look.

The others guys are escorting Daniel out the door as you slide Sam his receipt to sign. Quickly scribbling his signature and leaving you an overly generous tip he slings on his coat and slides your copy to you. “Thank you, he has had a really bad day. I'm sorry. ” He says with a gentle apologetic smile.

That night was the catalyst for it all. That was almost a year ago now and the hostility between the two of you had grown larger and larger with each passing day. You two hardly spoke to each other, instead communicating with dirty looks and insults. You never imagined it would end up this way, in fact he was always the one you thought you were most similar to in the beginning. Cracking jokes, small smiles and glances from across the room. All of that flew out the window and now you two were just hostile strangers. Just as if he could hear you thinking about him, he approaches the bar setting his empty glass down looking up at you from under his dark lashes. A smug look settling across his face, as his tongue runs over his teeth under his closed lips. When you look back at him acknowledging his presence, he leans into his elbow, resting on the bar top.

“Do I need to remind you or do you think you remember this time?” He chides.

“God you are such a prick, you know that?” You scoff back.

“Is that the best you’ve got? I honestly expected more from you…” He replies.

You pour the drink quickly, sliding it across to him as it sloshes over the side.

“Getting a little sloppy…do better.” He says walking off.

You are fuming. Every single interaction with him ends this way. He knows just what to say to get under your skin and he knows it. You hate that you even care. You hate that you have to see his stupid face every single night. Why can’t they go to a different bar sometimes? Maybe you should find a different job.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket you open up the notifications waiting for your attention. Clicking through your text messages and instagram notifications, you then click on the little red bubble on your Side Jobs app. You have been doing odd jobs here and there for the past year or so just to bring in a little extra money. You open the app and see that there is a new job posting for a house sitter, and its actually not too far from the bar. You read through the details and see that its a a 3 week job to check in on plants, collect mail and take out trash while the owner is out of town. Seems easy enough, so you submit your credentials, always using a fake name so that you don’t get stalked, and close the app as Sam approaches the bar.

“Hi Sammy, what would you like next?” You ask sweetly.

“I would like it if you and Daniel could play nice for just one night, but since we know that is not an option I will have another PBR please ma’am.” He replies cheekily.

“Sam, sometimes I think I might come over the bar and choke him to death, so yeah, I don’t think that is an option.” You laugh.

“Sometimes I think he comes just to pick fights with you and bitch to all of us until we are miserable enough to leave.” He laughs.

“Well someone should tell him he doesn’t have to come.” You reply passing him the can and a new glass.

“Oh, no, he would never miss a night. Never, let you think you won… One thing about him, he will take this shit to his grave.” He says raising his eyebrows walking back to their table. You shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

Around 1:00 you see the group walking up to the bar discussing who’s turn it was to pay before they eventually land on Danny. All of them slightly step back and let him past. He lets out an exaggerated groan as he reaches his arm into his back pocket searching for his wallet. His shirt slightly lifting from the hem of his pants revealing a sliver of skin of his lower abdomen, gently sprinkled with the dark hair of his happy trail and you swallow harshly, snapping your eyes away as quickly as you can. Your eyes flick up meet his and he hands you his card.

“Oh please… be serious.” He says aggressively.

“Don’t flatter yourself…” you reply swiping his card, and handing him his receipts.

He leans over on the counter and clicks the pen, keeping direct eye contact with you before looking down to sign shaking his head. He clicks the pen back in and slides both to you before smiling and digging into his pocket, pulling out his middle finger and showing it to you with a huge fake smile and walking away. You huff under your breath, at least he tipped you tonight. Josh blows you a kiss and they all head out the door. Until tomorrow, when the same song and dance will repeat, just like groundhog day.

As you unlock the door to your apartment you shiver at the coldness of the door handle and quickly step inside. You shower off all of the alcohol covering your body and slip right into bed, charging your mostly dead cellphone and pulling the string on your lamp. Your eyes close and you go over your to do list in your head as you drift off to sleep, ready to see what fresh hell tomorrow has to offer.

When your alarm goes off in the morning you force your eyelids open rolling towards your night stand hitting the off button. You pick up your phone pulling it off the charger and rolling to face the other way in bed. You see that you have a notification from your Side Job app. You click the red badge and see that you have been selected for the job you applied for. It starts tomorrow. You quickly read through the contract and see that you’ll be in charge of watering plants, collecting mail, and taking trash to the street. Easy enough. You sign the contract and accept, excited for a little extra money.

Feeling good about yourself you take extra care when getting ready for work tonight. You curl your hair and wear a new outfit, you add a little extra makeup than usual and you’re out the door. The beginning of your shift flies by, and you know that your regulars will start filing in soon. As if on cue, the little bell rings on the door and you snap your head to see who will come walking through. The boys come bounding in, Sam and Danny play fighting as Jake and Josh have a conversation. They see you at the bar and head your direction. As Josh walks up to the bar he throws his hand on the countertop and exclaims “Tonight we are celebrating!”

“Oh yeah, and what will you be celebrating?” You ask playfully.

“We leave for tour tomorrow, so tonight we celebrate our freedom!” He says dramatically like he is acting out a scene from a play.

“Okay, Hamlet, what would you like…” you ask grabbing a glass waiting for his reply.

“Vodka Tonic, double?” He asks.

“You got it. Sam? Jake?” You ask as you make the drink.

“I'll do the Blackstone IPA” Jake answers respectfully.

“Ehh, I’ll do a white claw, surprise me.” Sam replies.

You hand them both their selections, “Anything else? That it?” You ask purposefully ignoring Danny who is rolling his eyes and biting his cheek as he steps to the front.

“Oh sorry, didn’t see you there…” you say sarcastically.

“Look at you, just begging for me to put you in your place…” He says tapping his fingers on the bar top.

“And you think you could handle that? Thats cute…” You reply with a smug look.

“Please, I could have you on your knees in seconds. Although I’m sure you’re already quite familiar with the area.” He chides.

“Fuck you Daniel…” You reply quickly.

“In your fucking dreams, and I’ll have a a Bell’s Two Hearted.” he says with a smug look.

You slide the beer across the counter aggressively and he raises his eyebrows in victory as he walks away.

God dammit, he got you this time. You won’t let that happen again.

A while later, Sam saunters over to the bar, sitting on a barstool and resting his hands on his balled up fists, tilting his head to the side with a smile, insinuating he would like another.

“Mango?” You ask.

“Witch! You read my mind!” He says. You pull the tab and hand it to him.

“We will miss you while we are gone. You’re the best bartender gal ever. We just love ya. Well most of us.” He laughs.

“Awww, Sam you’re so sweet, although it will be nice to not have to practice my insults in the mirror before I come to work…” you joke.

“He really does get under your skin, huh.” He asks.

“Yeah but I think I get under his too.” You reply wiping the bar top.

“Oh trust me…” he says looking over to the group “more than you think.”

“Good to know.” You reply, looking over at Daniel who is glaring in Sam’s direction.

“Better go back, before I’m his next victim.” He laughs.

The guys take turns coming to the bar for refills on their poison of choice. Daniel wanders over for what will be his fourth drink of the night slamming his glass down on the bar his eyes pointing down at the glass then back at you.

“Don’t make me cut you off again, use your words like a big boy…” you say.

“Just get me another drink, god dammit.” He says removing his jacket, show casing his perfectly sculpted arms. His hair is tied up tonight, and his neck is visible for once. You catch yourself staring again and immediately look away, pissed that this keeps happening.

“You just can’t get enough can you?” He asks with a stuck up air about him.

“Oh please Danny, you aren’t that hot…” You reply, immediately knowing that was the wrong choice of words.

“Well if I didn’t know better I’d think you just called me hot…” he replies in a knowing but questioning tone.

You begin to pour his drink and think of what you want to say to really cut deep.

“Sorry. Not my type. I don’t go for guys like you.” You quip back.

“Like me?” He asks. “What? Incredibly good looking, talented and successful?”

“No, incredibly arrogant and full of shit. Have a great time on your trip ass hat, I will be glad to see you go.” You reply with a fake smile.

“For the record sweetheart, guys like me would never want someone like you, either.” He says pursing his lips together, grabbing his drink and walking away. Looking back for just a second before walking to his table.

Someone like you? You try not to let that one sting too badly.

You brush it off, knowing that he is just a drunk asshole. Josh comes up to the bar for one last drink and letting you know he’s got the tab tonight.

“Why the long face?” He asks.

“Ah, no reason.” You reply.

“I may have an idea…” he says. “Want to do a shot?” He asks.

“Mmm I can, but I call it... Fireball?” You ask.

“My favorite!” He replies.

You pour up two shots and you both throw them back quickly, laughing at the sudden burn in your throats. The other guys come running up to the two of you making a commotion, “Hey hey! What about us?!” Sam yells. “Yeah, we like shots too!” Jake says.

You grab two more shot glasses, pouring them up and sliding them over to their waiting hands.

They look to you then to Danny, silently wondering where his was.

You look at them and then at Danny, “Oh I’m sorry Daniel, did you want one too? Didn’t think you would want to do a shot with ‘someone like me’.” you say with venom lacing every word.

“Dude, what the fuck? What did you say?” Josh asks turning to him.

He shrugs his shoulders dismissively as you slide the full shot down the bar to him. As much as you hate him, you don’t want to leave him out. For some reason.

“You two need to cool it…damn.” Jake says.

“She started it!” Danny yells.

“My god Daniel, are you 5? You’re such a child…” You say.

“Okay, thats enough for one evening…” Says says ushering Danny out the door, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Josh pays the tab and as he’s signing he looks up and sighs. “Well, here’s to ‘living the dream’. We will see you when we get back I guess…”

“Have a good trip, break a leg! See you when you get back.” You say, as he gets up, nodding with a smile and walks through the door.

You can’t seem to let it go. What did he mean ‘someone like you’. You know you basically said the same thing to him, but he was a jerk, and deserved it. Hatred seeping through your veins as you realize this is exactly what he wanted. He wanted you to think about it after the fact. He wants that insult to live in your head rent free. But you won’t let it. You’re so glad you don’t have to see his face for the next few weeks. Good riddance.

The next day you’re on your way to the apartment you’ll be house sitting for the next couple of weeks. You get the address from the app and copy it into maps. 14 minutes from your apartment.

Hmm, you wonder what you’ll be walking in to. Its in a nicer part of town so you aren’t too worried. As you pull up to the building its more like a townhouse, with a brick facade. You follow the instructions on the app and collect the key from the lock box attached to the door. You place the key inside the lock and are granted access into the trendy, industrial style townhouse.

Its clean and tidy, hardly a thing out of place. It smells of clean laundry and sandalwood. You can tell a man lives here by the stacks of video games placed next to the television, and the various cans scattered across a few surfaces throughout the home. Next to the door hangs a key hook in the shape of a guitar amp, with only one key missing from its ‘plug’ and you know that no woman would have such masculine accessories adorning her house. A few pairs of mens shoes are stacked neatly by the door. You come to the conclusion that this guy must be single, as there has yet to be any sign of a woman around. You open the app and scroll through the find the checklist. Your phone buzzes in your hands and an unknown number comes up on your screen.

Unknown: Hi, I just got the notification from my security system that you arrived. Thanks again for taking care of my place. Please feel free to message me if you have any questions. Thanks! -D

D, Huh. They can tell when you’re here? Interesting. You reply.

You: Hi there, no problem at all, happy to help. If there is anything specific you need me to do while you’re away please don’t hesitate to ask.

You quickly add the number to your contacts just in case you need it in the future. “D”.

D: I will, please make yourself at home, anything in the fridge is fair game, now. Also, I forgot to put on the request… the Roomba runs automatically and will need to be emptied every couple of days. Shoot me a text before you leave and I’ll set the alarm.

You: Adding it to my list now. Thanks, I will do that!

You sit down on the modern looking brown leather couch and begin to prioritize the checklist. Your feet slide around on the polished concrete floors. This apartment is nice, like really nice. Way nicer than yours. You begin to walk around and get a feel for the place checking out the bathroom, the master bedroom and the guest room which seems to be some kind of small music studio. Typical for Nashville. There are framed vintage band posters adorning the walls and various lamps scattered throughout the house to provide warm lighting in the evening hours. There are blankets scattered across the couch and in a basket near the TV.

You smile, he's a cozy person, after your own heart.

You collect the little bits of trash as you go putting it in a small grocery bag to throw away on your way out. So he is a fan of seltzers, you find, chuckling as they are your favorite too.

You collect a few crumbled up pieces of paper and a few more cans off of a music table in the hallway, lightly skimming your fingers over the vinyl collection neatly stacked in alphabetical order. A decent collection actually, you nod your head in approval. At the very end is small arrangement of awards from various music and entertainment companies.

Hmmm, so this guy is a musician. A good one.

As you fill the small plastic watering can you take mental note of where the plants are located in the house. You spot one small one in a window by the front door, a small collection of three in the kitchen window, and one in the master bedroom. You make your way to each and give them all a good drink. In the master bedroom you look at the neatly made bed, with grey linens and a navy blue knitted throw blanket placed on top just like a magazine ad. This guy really does have good taste. The closet is perfectly organized and shoes line the floor. There are books stacked in piles on the floor next to a big leather club chair. You see photo frames lining the dresser and glance at the photos, double taking when you see someone you recognize.

Sam?

Wait who’s apartment is this?

You look to the next photo.

Oh god.

Your skin crawls. It’s a photo of Daniel and his… parents?

You immediately leave the room and hurry to grab your things and get out. You pass the music table and remember thinking that you thought he had good music taste. A shiver runs down your spine. God if he only knew. Makes sense why the messages were signed ‘D’.

You look around gathering up the bag of trash and turning off the lights, before you remember you were supposed to text him to set the alarm before you left. A angry sigh leaves your mouth as you type.

You: I am leaving, can you set the alarm?

A few minutes later, he replies.

D: Will do, thanks again. Here’s the code to get in next time. 9965

You: Great, thanks.

You can’t believe that somehow you have ended up in Daniel’s home. You cannot believe of the thousands of people in Nashville, it had to be his house. How did you not put the pieces together. You shut the door and lock it behind you. You are totally not coming back here. His plants can die for all you care. Fuck him. You hope he fires you. In fact he is lucky that you don’t sell off all of his shit while he is gone. How’s that for ‘someone like you’.

Getting in your car you head to the bar for your shift, fuming mad at yourself. You wish you never accepted this stupid job. At least you won’t see him for a few weeks.

You spend the next two weeks avoiding his apartment like the plague. You know you accepted the job but if you had known it was to help him out you never would have taken it. You have tried to convince yourself to just go and do it but you can’t. Won’t. Why should you do anything nice for someone who has been so hateful towards you. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you pull it out and see its from him. Great.

D: Any chance you��re going by the apartment today? I have a package coming that needs to be signed for. No big deal if not.

Fuck. Absolutely not. Fuck him and his stupid fucking packages.

You: Sure, what time?

D: Says that it should arrive between 5:15 - 6:15, feel free to hangout.

Oh, if you only knew… you would not be saying that.

You: Got it, I will swing by there shortly.

D: Thank you!

Ugh, damn him and his polite conversation. You don’t even know how to respond to him in a civil manner.

5:15… Thats about an hour from now. Of course now you have to go ‘work’ on your day off. Classic.

You decided to put on some comfy clothes and head over there, it will be a longer drive with traffic and you don’t want to miss the delivery. You pull into the empty space in front of the apartment and take a deep breath. Why does this feel so wrong. He would absolutely blow a fuse if he know. Maybe next time he will better vet his house sitters.

You unlock the door and step inside, disarming the security system. You see that the Roomba is stuck on the edge of the rug and you help it get free before it scurries back to its little home, making note to empty it before you leave.

Its around 5:00 now, so hopefully the delivery will be on time and you can get back home to your comfy bed and enjoy the rest of your night off. You turn on a few lamps and the room begins to glow with warm amber light.

Okay this is kind of a vibe. I see you, Daniel.

You sit down on the couch and grab a remote from the table. You press the power button and the TV comes to life, speakers roaring.

The PGA channel? Okay… strange.

You begin to flip through the channels and settle on just listening to the news, as you are going to scroll through social media on your phone anyways.

Bzzz.

D: Bad news, delivery is delayed, now says 8:15. I’m sorry. If you’re already there feel free to stay, I know it’s late, I don’t mind.

Stay? That is bold. Fuck him and his generosity.

You: I am here now, I will wait. Thanks.

A few hours pass with no delivery. At this point you are deeply immersed in TikTok the doorbell ringing scares you half to death.

Weird I thought he said 8:15? Its only 8:00.

You get up and open to door prepared to meet someone, only to find no one there. You look down and there is a coffee cup sitting on the welcome mat. You bend down and pick it up, the name on the ticket says ‘Daniel’ and your suspicions are confirmed.

Damn him being thoughtful.

Walking back inside you hear your phone buzz on the coffee table. Sitting back down on the couch with your coffee you read the message.

D: Did it arrive? Thanks for staying.

You: The coffee? Yes. The package, no. Thank you.

D: My pleasure. The least I could do.

Feeling brave since he has no idea that it’s you he is being this nice to, you reply.

You: Are you always this nice?

D: I think so. But we all have our days right?

You: Some more than others...

D: I can agree with that. I really can’t thank you enough for coming to do this tonight, it has to be signed for or it won’t get delivered. Of course, it was supposed to arrive two weeks ago.

Ugh, why is he so polite and charming… stop communication now.

You: I’ll let you know when it arrives.

D: Thanks, this is kind of weird, you know… a complete stranger texting me from inside my house?

Jeeze, he is really talkative. You have hardly seen him speak in whole sentences at the bar.

You: Well, that’s modern technology for you. I was only slightly creeped out when you messaged me and knew I was here the first day.

D: Oh, I turned that off, just wanted to make sure you showed up.

You: So now you’re not stalking me?

D: Nope, you’re free to come and go without my knowledge, now. Which is a little scary now that I say that…

Wait he is kind of funny…

No. Absolutely not. End the conversation now.

You: Out of town for business or pleasure?

What the hell is wrong with you? You hate him…Hello?!

D: A little of both, I like to mix the two. But really it’s for work. I do make time for hobbies every now and then.

You: I’m guessing based on your TV channel preference here, you mean golf?

D: I have been known to enjoy the links.

You: Nice to have a hobby outside of work.

You hoped that coffee would keep you awake, but it seems to be having the opposite effect your eye lids are growing heavy, only to be shot open but the buzz of your phone.

D: Do you have any hobbies, mystery house sitter?

The doorbell rings, and you snap back to reality.

What are you doing texting Daniel…pull it together. He would flip out if he knew.

You open the door and sign for the small brown box and he is on his way.

You set the box on the entry table and go to grab your phone and let him know it arrived.

You: A few… Your package arrived. Thanks for the coffee.

There, that will shut him up.

D: Great, thanks for staying so late.

You glance to the clock, and notice its nearly 9:40.

You: No problem, I’ll be back here later this week to check mail and do the trash cans. You should be back around then right?

D: Yep, I will be back in a few days. Have a good night, mystery house sitter.

You: You too.

Okay, you have officially gone off the deep end. You just had an entire conversation with Danny, who you now know formally is Daniel Wagner, from his mail; and you didn’t even cuss at him one time. Horrible.

Again, if he only knew that you were lounging on his couch for the past 5 hours…

You laugh at the thought of the massive blow up he would have. You think about how flushed he gets when you argue in the bar, 3-4 drinks deep. How the vein in his forehead protrudes a little bit, and his eyes go dark and hooded…

Woah, thats enough.

You stop yourself, disgusted for even thinking about him. You turn off all the lights and the TV, lock the door behind you and you’re on your way home. One more week and you’re free.

A few days later, after finishing your shift you decide to hit up his apartment one last time before he comes home the next day. You want to collect all the mail and put it on the counter together, empty the Roomba and bring the trash cans to the road. It's around 2AM when you pull into the parking spot in front of his apartment. You have never been here this late. You pull the key from the pocket of your bag and unlock the door, disarming the alarm and shutting the door behind you, making sure to re-lock it.

You collect his mail from the mail slot and you pile it on the counter with the other mail collection. You turn on a lamp that softly lights the room, before you quickly empty the vacuum and dump it into the trash. You walk around the rest of the apartment looking to make sure everything is in its place for his arrival tomorrow. Not that you should care. You're just doing your job.

You fill the watering can and begin to make your way around the house, starting int he kitchen, making your way to eh living room, and ending in the bedroom. As you begin to pour the water into the tiny green plant, your arm twitches, and you spill water on the dresser and floor.

Shit.

You run to the attached bathroom and grab a little hand towel from the closet, and you sit on your feet while trying to clean up the mess on the floor. You hear a creak from the door way and look up only to be met with Danny leaning on the door Fram with crossed arms.

“Well, well...I told you I could get you on your knees…”

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blubary · 1 month

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Little Hope was originally supposed to be set in the early 2000s

(This totally is not an excuse for me to share a new AU with everyone…I swear.)

When the game first came out, me and @sargeantsarmy remember the cop talking about the crash and saying the people were newlyweds but I actually have no way of backing that up. I just VIVIDLY remember him saying it.

Eric and Rachel got married in 2001, 2 years before House of Ashes takes place. 2001 is also the same year they got in the crash in Little Hope. And if the cop did actually say “newlyweds” it would make sense that it was Eric and Rachel. But I couldn't find anything where he said that.

Also, Anthony does not at ALL look like he's in his late sixties. I mean, yes, it could just be because they didn't have someone who looked closer to that age, or Anthony just aged REALLY well. In 2020 Anthony would be 67 and he definitely does not look it. If it took place in 2001, Anthony would be 48, which I find to be much more believable than him being over 60.

Lastly, there is one piece of dialogue that kind of ties it all together in my opinion. It happens when Andrew and John are making their way to the police station and Andrew talks to John. I can't remember the exact conversation but I do remember that Andrew is being playful and tells John to “get with us millennials.” This made no sense to me…At first, I thought it could've just been Andrew making a joke, but that felt unlikely. However, if it took place in 2001, then both Andrew and Daniel, would’ve been millennials. (I’m ignoring the fact that Taylor would be Gen X and John and Angela would be Boomers…)

While Daniel and Taylor are walking to the bar, Taylor asks about Daniel saying that they could be dead.

This was the conversation they had:

Daniel: “I saw some cable show about how your brain keeps going after you- you know…”

Taylor: “You die?”

Daniel: “Forget about it, what they said didn't really stack up.”

Not a lot of Gen Z watch cable anyway because of social media. There is always the fact that he could have watched dit on something else or actually just watched the cable show, but it just seems a little specific.

But oh my god, I just love the idea of these guys having flip phones. I mean, come on, that would be awesome.

I feel like John would’ve been so afraid of Y2K which is so funny to me. Andrew was only scared because everyone else was scared. He didn't actually think the world was going to end. Angela and Taylor didn't believe in that shit. Daniel didn't think about it hard enough so he was a little scared, but eventually accepted his fate.

#yeah idk #it's just a silly theory we had #people probably already know about this but I just love it sm yk #little hope #dark pictures little hope #2000s au

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readyforthegarden · 1 year

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Eternal - Part Nine

A vampire!gvf multi-part dark romance AU (Josh Kiszka x reader, GVF x reader)

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Mentions of blood, death, vampirism, mentions of stockholm syndrome

WC: 3261

The air was tense, you stood on one end of the library, Josh on the other. His arms were crossed and he wore stern look on his face as he regarded you. Your face was twisted in aggravation, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. You could feel your nails imprinting crescent moon shaped indents into the heel of your palm as you tried to keep from shouting.

“Josh, I think we can be reasonable.” Jake muttered from his desk, where he had been working in peace until you barged into the room, to get some peace and quiet away from Josh, who you’d been arguing with. You’d found yourself craving the solace of the room, and had been spending time reading, Jake’s dull typing in the background. Occasionally he’d recommend a book, and ask how you were liking it or ask what part you were on, sparking a small conversation. You had hoped you wouldn’t be followed, but Josh wasn’t one to let go, and followed you into the spacious study.

“Reasonable?” Josh scoffed, unfolding his arms and gesturing to you. “Risking her life for a pair of jeans and some lip gloss is reasonable?”

“Josh, I need my stuff.” you groaned. “I’ve worn and washed the same pair of panties so many times the seams are coming apart.”

“You don’t need them, then.” he sniffed, making you roll your eyes.

“Danny is making a run to the grocery store today, I want go with him.” you pleaded. “I need to go, I’m going stir-crazy cooped up in here.”

“I’m sorry, is my sprawling estate not big enough for you?” Josh feigned insult, making Jake chuckle under his breath as he typed another email. I didn’t realize forty acres was so suffocating.”

“Maybe it’s you,” Jake piped up again, glancing up from his laptop. His lips in a soft, lazy smirk as he gazed at his older brother. “Maybe she just can’t stand to be around you anymore, dear brother.” you dropped your face into your hands, his twin making your case worse. Josh stiffened at his brothers words, his eyes flickering to you and back to Jake.

“Do you feel you need time away from me?” Josh asked, turning and looking at the fireplace. Of course Jake had a roaring, crackling fire, though outside the temperature was near the mid-sixties. The days were hitting highs of near one hundred, and you longed for a beach and a boardwalk hot dog and soda, salt spray from your favorite vacation spot back home misting your face.

“Josh, I’ve been ripped from my life and my home and thrown into this dark, cold manor.” you sighed, tears pricking your eyes as you fully realized the weight of the words coming out of your mouth. “I just need a small break, back to the real world.” Josh grit his teeth behind his lips as he studied you, before flicking his eyes over to Jake. They conversed silently as you sniffled, turning away to hide your blotchy face.

“Fine,” Josh relented with a sigh. You turned around in disbelief, looking from the small, smarmy smile on Jake’s lips as he winked at you over to Josh, who was rubbing his temple. “I will speak with Daniel and see if he can take you to your apartment and get your things. Make sure he’s able to protect you in case anything happens.” you couldn’t help it, you felt joy bubbling up inside you and you jumped up and down excitedly.

“Yes!” you turned to Jake. “Thank you, thank you!

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, darlin’.” he chuckled, looking to an aggravated Josh. “But do feel free to leave your panties behind when you come back. That is one thing I agree with him about.” you bit the inside of your cheek as Jake looked you up and down for a moment.

“Go get ready,” Josh sniffed. You bolted towards the door, pausing briefly to kiss his cheek, placing your lips on the dimple there. You nearly floated to your bedroom, sliding on your shoes and giving Jameson some scratches as he stretched out on your bed. Manor living certainly agreed with him, now that he was used to it. The plush rugs and linens, the spaces to hide.

“I’m gonna bring back all your toys and catnip Jamesy.” you cooed as he chirped. You ran a brush through your hair and clipped it back with a claw clip before nearly galloping down the stairs, your purse in your hands.

“Ready?” Danny greeted you at the bottom of the stairs, keys in hands.

“More than ready,” you grinned, nearly throwing yourself towards the garage door. Danny laughed at the pep in your step.

“You’d think I’m taking you to the carnival.” he said through his quiet laughter.

“I can’t help it,” you sighed as you swung the door open and waited for him. “I’m excited. I’m excited to get my things, to be outside of this estate…”

“I bet.” Danny unlocked the black escalade, and you climbed into the passenger seat, buckling in. As he pulled out of the spot and drove down the long garage, you looked over to him.

“If we do come across a carnival though, could we go?” you asked, batting your lashes at him.

“Why, you wanna ride the ferris wheel?”

“No, but mentioning a carnival made me realize how badly I’d like a corndog though.”

Entering your old apartment was strange. It was like visiting a friend’s house you hadn’t seen or talked to in a while. Everything was the same, and yet something was off, different. There was something unsettled, like you were now the thing that didn’t belong. You stepped into your living room, swiping a finger along the coffee table and collecting the thin, fine layer of dust that had settled across everything. It had only been a few weeks, but you looked around at the walls, photos of your friends back home, your family. A shadowbox full of movie ticket stubs surrounded by colorful art prints. Nothing super artistic, just things that caught your eye and made you happy at the time. You glanced around, wondering if you were still the girl that picked out those bright pictures and paintings.

“I can start in here, if you want to take some boxes to your bedroom.” Danny’s voice made you jump, startling you from your thoughts. “We won’t be able to fit everything into the car, but we can get a good chunk out.”

“It’s okay.” you smiled at him, taking the flattened cardboard box he offered. “I’m mainly just looking to grab my clothes and Jameson’s things.” Danny nodded, giving you a soft smile before starting to set up his own box, looking around at your living room. You moved down the hallway, going into your bedroom. Your bed was frozen in the state you and Josh had left it in. Sheets twisted around your comforter, pillows still indented where your heads laid. Old, dark blood spots from where he bit you still staining the pale mauve sheets. Putting the box together, you moved to your closet, taking out clothes and rolling them up, trying to maximize how much you could bring with you.

As you packed, you became overwhelmed at how quickly your life had changed. Outfits meant for nights out on the town with friends and dates were now useless. The fabric that once held life to you as your favorite club dress, was limp in your hands, something that felt like it was due for a donation box instead of a moving box. You didn’t realize you had started to cry until you felt a warm tear hit the back of your hand. Backing up, your knees hit the edge of your bed and you dropped down on it, letting the tears fall freely. The only thing about you that felt free.

“Hey, are you okay?” you looked up to see Danny in the doorway of your room, looking concerned. “I was cleaning out the fridge, and I heard sniffling, thought it might be the dust.” you looked up at him and in seconds he was sitting next to you, pulling you into his chest. His large hands rubbed your back slowly, soothingly.

“Let it out,” he whispered softly, chin resting on the top of your head. “Let it all out.” you sobbed into his chest, clutching the dress in your hands and wringing it between your bodies, feeling the rhinestones dig into your palms. Danny’s arms were comforting and strong, and when he tightened them around you, you felt your tears begin to cease.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his chest, putting a hand on his tear-stained tank top as you pulled back. “I just, it just came over me and-“

“You don’t have to apologize,” Danny brushed a stray hair off your tear-stained cheek, giving you a small smile. “I understand, don’t apologize.”

“I’m just looking around at everything and in just under a month, everything is different.” you sniffled, glancing around your bedroom.

“It’s hard, adjusting to this life.” Danny nodded, his voice quiet. “A lot changes, and the way you were brought into it…It’s okay to miss it.”

“That’s the thing,” you looked up at him. “I don’t know if I miss it, or if I’m realizing that I never want to come back to a normal life.” Danny stared at you for a few moments, taking in your words as he let his hand fall from your face.

“Okay, we need to get you to the grocery store,” he smirked. “The stockholm syndrome is talking.” you snorted a laugh, nodding at how right he was. Danny helped you finish packing your clothes and jewelry, even packed up your bedding for you and tossing the blood stained ones before you followed him to the living room, tossing Jameson’s toys and the rest of his food in one box and a few baubles and trinkets in another, along with the personal photos and documents you scrounged up. You left with four boxes total, leaving the rest of your former life behind. Closing the door on the apartment felt like closing the door on your past, leaving it to continue collecting dust.

The trip to the grocery store on the other side of town was better. Danny followed you around as you grabbed things, tossing them into the cart.

“We cannot get all of these snacks,” Danny laughed as you tossed a box of cheez-its into the cart.

“Why not?” you turned, quirking an eyebrow. “I know you’ve got the company card.” you gave him a look with a devious smile.

“And Jake goes over the books with an eagle eye.” Danny countered.

“I’m sure I can work something out with the boss, okay?” you winked at him, throwing a bag of chips into the cart as well. Danny gave you a tight smile, rolling forward and following you. The drive back was quieter, the rustling of the groceries and the boxes behind you reminding you where you were heading.

“You’ve been a little quiet.” Danny turned to you once you were both in the kitchen, putting away the groceries. You shrugged, your emotions being all over the place today.

“I just…how long have you been here? When do you get used to it?” you asked, rummaging through a bag for the next thing to put away. Danny was quiet for a few moments, and you peeked over at him as he tossed a can of corn back and forth in his hands.

“I’m just as old as the Kiszka’s. Slightly younger, but around the same age.” Danny informed you, stopping you in your tracks, loaf of bread in hand. He chuckled and put the can of vegetables in the cupboard. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Well, no.” you shook your head. “We were just outside, why didn’t you burn or smoke?” Danny bit his bottom lip nodding as you babbled. “Do you have some sort of amulet they don’t? A secret potion?”

“No, and no.” Danny leaned against the counter, next to you, picking up an orange and digging his thumbs into it, spraying a small mist of the citrus juice into the air as he peeled its skin. “Sam and I have always been friends. Brothers, even. We grew up together, all of us did, really. When Josh and Jake turned, Sam wanted to turn too, to be like his older brothers. And when he turned….he wanted me to turn with him.” you studied his face as he told the story, seeing in his eyes the sadness of the long life he’s lived.

“But you didn’t want to.” you murmured softly. Danny looked up from the fruit in his hands, nodded gently.

“I refused. Many times. But Sam is impulsive and can be selfish. After a year or so of letting it be, he visited. Said he had great news. He had found a witch that could grant me eternal life, without me becoming a vampire. I said, ‘Sam, I don’t want that. I’m fine living as long as god lets me.’” Danny laughed, a bitter tone in his voice. “He flew off the handle at that. Started shouting that he couldn’t live without me, couldn’t watch his best friend age, wither and die and that it was too late any way, the curse was already done.”

“Oh Danny,” you shook your head. He just continued.

“I didn’t believe it, at first. I thought he was just saying it because he was mad, and wanted to scare me into turning. And then a decade went by, and everyone else looked older, and yet I still looked twenty-four. I ran, after that.”

“Ran?” you hopped up onto the counter next to him, taking a slice of the orange he offered you, knowing if Jake saw your bottom on the nice marble he’d flay you alive, but at this moment you didn’t care.

“I couldn’t stand to be around Sam. Jake or Josh either. They let him do this to me.” Danny shook his head. “I took a lot of time to myself. Traveled around the world. I saw when electricity became available to the public. I saw the first movie ever made. I watched the Titanic leave port in Southhampton. But I realized that even with what he’d done to me, none of it mattered without him. Without my brother.” he popped an orange section into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he stared down at the tile beneath his feet. “I’ve loved my life since coming back to the family…” a silence hung between the two of you, and you understood the weight of it. He’d loved his life thus far, but he still wouldn’t have chosen it. You let the silence linger, taking another piece of orange from him as he offered, biting down softly on the flesh of the fruit.

You took the moment to think about your own life. Would you get the chance to decide what your life would be? How long or short? Or would Josh be like his brother, rash and bold in making decisions for their counterpart and cause you to suffer a fate like Danny’s? The thought made your stomach churn, suddenly the sweet citrus turning acrid and sour on your tongue. The idea of youth eternal had always had a glimmer to it when you’d come across it in movies or books, but now after Danny’s story, the lights were faded, you could see the cobwebs and dust collecting on the idea.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “That you went through that, that your choice was taken from you.” Danny turned to you and gave you a soft smile, putting a warm, comforting hand on your knee.

“After living a few centuries, you get on by realizing the past is the past.” he supplied, giving your knee a soft squeeze. He ended the conversation there, moving to discard the orange rind and finish stocking the shelves.

You flopped back onto your bed, freshly washed linens from home, finally a color other than maroon or black or gray. The dusty mauve color of your comforter feeling soft under your skin. You giggled a bit, at just how out of place it was amongst the dark walls and art. You had mostly unpacked your things, finally happy to have more clothes to wear around the house than the few Josh had packed your suitcase with that night.

“This is…different.” you turned your head, seeing Josh standing in the doorway. He was looking around the room at all the things you’d brought back with you, a slight look of distaste on his face.

“This entire house cannot just be filled with macabre and gloom.” you sassed back. “Not everyone here is a moody depressed vampire.”

“I see that.” Josh walked into your room, running a hand across your comforter before sitting down. “Do you feel more at home, now?” you turned your head back to the ceiling, shrugging.

“It’s getting there.” you sighed. “Danny helped me a lot today…it was nice to get out for a while.” you felt Josh stiffen for a moment.

“I’m sorry, love,” Josh said quietly. “That this has happened. That you got caught up in this mess.” you turned back to him, watching him fidget and pick at your comforter. Apologizing was something he didn’t seem to do often, the words sounding clunky in the air.

“Well, it serves me right, spending my nights in a seedy nightclub trying to seduce the mysterious man in the VIP room.” you joked half-heartedly. “Should’ve been at home in bed, knitting.”

“You knit?” Josh smirked. Shaking your head, you answered.

“I’m sure I could make a pretty decent tangle, if I tried it.” you smirked back, hearing him chuckle.

“May I ask a question?” Josh’s hand had moved to the top of your head, slowly stroking your hair.

“Go for it.”

“Do you need space from me?” he asked gently. You gazed up at his brown eyes, watching him study your reaction to his question.

“Sometimes.” you answered, choosing the honest one. “Sometimes it’s because I feel so crowded by you and others because I’m so frustrated. You have these tender moments and then you treat me like I’m nothing more than a blood bag.” Josh pursed his lips as you explained your feelings to him. “It’s hard on top of everything else going on, I don’t know where I stand with you from one night to the next, and not only that, your brothers are relentless in their teasing. I’m yours, but you have yet to say that you’re mine.”

“You and I have…a bond.”

“So you say.” you sat up, pulling yourself from his touch on your head. “I’d like some space right now, please.”

“But-“

“Please, Josh.” you didn’t look at him. “I’d like to be left alone.” after a few moments, you heard the shifting of bed, a few steps, and the click of your door shutting softly. You sank your face into your palms, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. Your brain took you back to your conversation in the kitchen with Danny, and you groaned. Maybe eternal life, especially spent with someone as hot and cold as Josh was, and his brothers, was your destiny. But as the idea of centuries of bickering and sex and arguments flooded your brain, you wondered again would it be worth it.

Taglist:

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#josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet fic #josh kiskza #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet #eternal fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut

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windhamsrotunda · 2 years

Text

KINKTOBER 2022 MASTERSLIST REVEAL!

Hi all, so I (officially) yet finally got all of the slots written down with my creative mind going, so here are the 31 days of Kinktober 2022 that I will (try) to write! Please note that I am a college student but will try my very best to complete all of the days below! - Shar?

INSPIRED BY: @starsandskies (WINDHAMSROTUNDA'S KINKTOBER 2022 MASTERSLIST)

Below are a mixture of wrestlers from AEW, WWE, NJPW, and NXT (bonuses: 2 actors from Stranger Things).

Day 1: First Time - John Silver (Of The Dark Order)

Day 2: Thigh Riding - Edge

Day 3: Dirty Talk - Jamie Campbell Bower (aka Vecna) (Stranger Things)

Day 4: Size Difference - Luchasaurus (or Braun Strowman IT'S VERY DEBATABLE HERE.)

Day 5: Blowjob - Adam Cole

Day 6: Eating Out - Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn) (Stranger Things)

Day 7: Edging - Madcap Moss

Day 8: Bondage - Heel!Dominik Mysterio

Day 9: Sixty-Nine - Jon Moxley

Day 10: Pegging - Rhea Ripley x Female! Reader

Day 11: Nipple Play - Jagger Reid (aka James Drake, NXT)

Day 12: Creampie - Tyler Bate (NXT)

Day 13: Overstimulation - Erick Redbeard (fka Rowan)

Day 14: Mutual Masturbation - Nathan Frazer (NXT)

Day 15: Lingerie - ''Hangman'' Adam Page

Day 16: Anal Sex - Daniel Garcia

Day 17: Shower Sex - Jungle Boy (Jack Perry)

Day 18: Clothes On - Jay White (NJPW)

Day 19: Facesitting - Wardlow

Day 20: Spanking - MJF

Day 21: Rough Sex - Roman Reigns

Day 22: Sexting / Phone Sex - Hook

Day 23: Hair Pulling - Drew McIntyre

Day 24: Chastity Cage - Christian Cage

Day 25: Threesome - Santana and Ortiz (and Female! Reader)

Day 26: Collar - Dakota Kai x Female! Reader

Day 27: Toys - Alex Reynolds (of The Dark Order)

Day 28: Begging - Jey Uso

Day 29: Body Worship - Darby Allin

Day 30: Restraints - Dexter Lumis

Day 31: Aftercare - Ricky Starks

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babyiamperfectforyou · 2 years

Text

IT'S YOU

Chapter 7

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Coarse language.

A/n : Hey everyone, as promised, Here's the next chapter. Enjoyy!!!

Xoxo,

G and M

Previous part l Next part

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Y/N was nervous and excited at the same time. Nervous because she was going to see Harry, excited, also because she was going to see Harry. Was he okay? Even though Steffin told her that he was okay and that he just needed to rest, she couldn’t believe him until she saw Harry with her own two eyes.

She reached home and took a shower. After making herself some food, she decided to get ready. She couldn’t even decide what to wear, her thoughts revolved around one arrogant jerk named Harry Styles. After an hour of searching for clothes, she finally decided on an olive dress. Not too formal, not that casual either. She wore beige sandals with it and finished off her look with some lip gloss and some mascara.

She took her clutch, took her phone out and texted Daniel that she won’t be there, if he decided to drop by. She was trying to read a book when she saw Steffin’s car. She locked the apartment and went outside. Steffin, on seeing her, got out and opened the door for her. She thanked him and got in and saw his father, Mr Tomas in the car. He smiled at her kindly.

Kenneth Tomas, Steffin’s father, was living a retired life in the suburbs. He was in his early sixties, with a salt and pepper mustache and beard.

“Good evening Sir.” She greeted him.

“Good evening, Y/N, it's been a while, how have you been?” He beamed at her.

“I'm good, Sir. Everything is going great. How are you?”

“I'm fine. I heard that you were promoted?”

“Yes, I'm really grateful ."

“Steffin told me that you're one of the best employees in the company. I'm proud of you, my dear.”

“Thank you Sir.” She turned to Steffin, “Thank you Mr. Tomas”.

“Oh, Y/N, call me Steffin, you're not my employee right now, we're just friends, aren't we?”

“Um.. Okay.. Mr, I mean Steffin” She said and he chuckled.

“So, let's get going then, shall we?” asked Mr. Tomas.

“Yeah, sure, it's only a few blocks away from here. We'll be there in half an hour.” Steffin said and started the car.

During the journey, Y/N found herself zoning out. She was thinking about Harry. He was kind enough to bring her home and take care of her after she passed out, he was kind enough to prepare breakfast for her in the morning. She felt guilty for not checking up on him when he was absent for almost a week and assuming the worst when in reality, he was innocent.

She could have called him, but she let her ego get in the way.

------------------------------------

She was startled when the vehicle came to an abrupt halt in a familiar yard. Harry’s house. She remembered coming there once, at his promotion party.

She still remembers his house very clearly. They all got out of the car, Steffin had opened the door once again for her. Mr Tomas knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

The door swung open to reveal a very enthusiastic Anne, and she looked so happy to see them.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise”, she said.

“Hey Anne, it's good to see you. When did you come?” Ken asked, giving her a sideways hug.

“I landed on Tuesday evening, I don’t even know what’s going on. He can’t even care for himself, how am I going to live in peace when he is this clumsy?”

She shook her head.

“Steffin, I didn't see you there. It's been a long time.” She patted Steffin on the shoulder and that’s when she saw Y/N. Even though she had seen her only once, she seemed to remember her.

“Oh my God, is that Y/N? Long time no see. How have you been kiddo?” She engulfed her in a warm hug.

“I'm good, how are you Anne?” She replied.

“Why don’t we take this inside?There's an old man who can't stand in the cold for long”, Ken said and everyone laughed.

“Oh I'm so sorry, come in guys” Anne invited them in.

“I hope you'll stay for dinner, I'm making stew and dumplings”, she added.

“Stew and dumplings? Yes, we’ll stay for dinner” Ken’s answer was spontaneous.

“Now tell me Anne, where's my boy ? How is he?”

“He’s in his room, Ken. The doctor has suggested complete rest for a couple weeks. He’s okay. It hurts sometimes. He can limp but someone should be here to look after him, at least for this week. He keeps saying no, though. I think it hurt his ego.” she laughed.

Steffin handed over the flowers he had brought and Anne took them away to cut the base and put them in a vase.

She came back a minute later and invited them to go with her to see Harry. The room was very neat and tidy. It accurately presented his character. There was a couch in the corner, a reading chair and table and on it, a stack of books could be seen. She suddenly thought about how messy her room always was and what he’d have thought about that when he spent a night there.

He was sleeping peacefully on the bed when they entered the room. His hair was messy from being on the bed for long.Y/N wanted to run her fingers through the unruly curls.He had a stubble on his face, indicating that he hadn’t shaved in a week. He was wearing a white t-shirt and grey shorts and his right leg, as well as his right hand, was bandaged. She had never seen him in comfy clothes before. It felt so domestic and intimate.

“Honey, wake up, look who’s here”, Anne told him softly.

His eyes fluttered open, he looked around and caught sight of Mr. Tomas. He smiled at him and tried to sit up, wincing at the pain.

Mr. Tomas helped him sit up, but he said he could do it himself.

“How are you, my boy?” Ken asked with concern in his voice.

“I'm fine…I'll just have to rest a couple weeks but I'm okay”, he said.

“I can see that. How did you get into the accident in the first place?” Ken asked.

“He says he doesn't remember anything.” Anne said, obviously not believing him.

“It’s the truth..I … Uh… don't remember anything, it all happened so quickly.”He countered.

“What do you mean you don't remember anything? You should have some idea how it happened.” Steffin cut in.

“I just…don't know,” he shrugged.

“I think you should inform the police.” Steffin’s voice was serious.

“I already told you the other day, there's no need for that, Steffin” Harry sighed.

“Huh? So you haven’t informed the police yet?” Y/N suddenly asked and everyone turned to look at her. That was when Harry noticed her. His face lit up.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Uh…Hi…” She could feel her cheeks heating up.

"Hey" He breathed out.

“This is exactly what I was talking about.He wouldn't file a complaint” Anne interrupted.

“Fine, I'll do it, mum”,he seemed annoyed.

Y/N smiled seeing this interaction, she had never seen him lose an argument.

“Okay then, I'll get you guys something to drink and then get to cooking”, Anne announced.

“I'll help you, let them catch up with everything that happened.” Ken offered.

“No no, it's fine” Anne refused.

“Oh come on Anne, it’s the least I could do.” Ken said.

“Okay then, Harry, don’t leave your bed,” Anne said sternly.

Harry looked like he was about to protest but Steffin interrupted,

“I’ll make sure of that, Anne”

Anne and Ken left the room, leaving the three of them alone.

“So, how’s your little vacation going on, Harry? Having fun in bed, huh?” Steffin mocked.

“Oh, fuck off, Steffin”, Harry cursed him.

Y/N laughed as well, catching on to the innuendo. Harry looked at her, shaking his head, a lazy smile adoring his perfect pink lips. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't realize Steffin taking her hand, asking her to follow him.

It didn't go unnoticed by Harry and he frowned.

Steffin pointed at Harry and said, “Come on, Y/N, I'll show you some of this gentleman’s embarrassing childhood pics.”

Harry’s whole demeanor changed at that. He looked somewhat scared.

“You wouldn’t.”, he said.

“Yeah? Try me.” Steffin smirked.

“I swear to God I will kill you.”

“Did you forget, Harry? You're not supposed to move from your bed”

“Don’t do it” he said through gritted teeth.

Y/N could see how close they were from that mere interaction, they must be good friends if he was to pull a trick like this.

Steffin’s hand never left Y/N’s. He dragged her towards Harry’s bedside table and started rummaging the drawers and took out an old photo album. He flipped through the pages and handed it over to her. In the photo was a young Harry, about 4 or 5 years old, grinning, one hand on his hip and the other curled into a fist. And, he was wearing a bra. He looked adorable, to say the least.

Harry buried his face in his hands.

She was not sure if he was angry or just embarrassed. So she tried to walk towards his bed to ask him but her leg hit the leg of the table and she tripped, falling face first. She caught hold of Harry’s bed in reflex, but fell either way.

“Y/N… Are you-”

Before Harry could finish, Steffin came over to her, bent down and picked her up and sat her on the edge of Harry’s bed and took her swollen ankle in his hand. He looked at her with concern.

“Shit. Um, I'll bring ice”, Steffin said.

“Uh, Actually, I'm fine, it's okay...Steffin.” She said. Even though her ankle had hit somewhere, it hadnt sprained, though it hurt. He did not wait for her response and left the room.

Harry watched the whole scene keenly. When did Y/N and Steffin get on a first name basis? He didn’t like the way his name rolled off her lips. Even though he was annoyed at this, he was worried for her.

Before he could ask if he could do anything, Steffin re entered the room with an ice pack in his hand. He carefully placed it on her ankle and put her leg up on a plastic chair.

“It’s going to be fine” He said and squeezed her shoulder gently.

Anne and Mr. Tomas had come with him to see if she was alright.

“Are you alright, dear?” Anne asked, concerned.

“Oh my god, I'm fine, I just hit my foot,” She said, embarrassed.

“This boy here scared us for a moment,” said Mr Tomas and punched his arm, and he just shrugged, smiling.

“Now, come on kids, I'll get you something to drink.” Steffin, Anne and Ken left the room.

“I'll be there, just a few minutes” Y/N said.

She looked at Harry, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?”, he asked genuinely.

“Yeah, I'm fine, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you okay?”

“Like you care,” he scoffed.

“What are you talking about? Of course I care for my-”

She wanted to say friend, but she did not know if they were friends, what if her saying that out angered him? So she said,

“Colleague .”

“Then, yeah, I'm good, colleague.” he huffed, putting extra emphasis on the word colleague.

She felt like his words contained pure hatred towards her and she didn't even know what she did. The sudden change in Harry’s behaviour confused her. It’s like he was back to being that asshole she was used to, and not the Harry she saw a few days ago.

“Why are you acting like this, Harry?,” she sighed.

“Like what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Like you don’t like me coming here, or worse, like you don’t like me at all?”

He was not expecting that at all, he looked taken aback and somewhat…. hurt.

“You have a lot of people who love you and care about you, Y/N. So, you don’t have to worry about me liking you or not.”

“What happened to you, Harry? Last time we saw each other, you were friendly to me, what happened to that Harry? Why did you leave so urgently? What was that about?” At this point, she wasn't holding back either.

“I…I had something important come up.” He stuttered.

“Oh yeah? What was it?” She questioned.

Harry wore an exasperated expression. He tried to bring his hand up to his hair, but he tried to lift the plastered hand, grimacing.

Y/N suddenly sprang to her feet, not caring about her own pain.

“Hey, careful…”

She sat down near him, leaned down and examined his hand. She looked sad and concerned and Harry felt bad.

“Um… I am sorry, Y/N..I was just…”

“Just what?” Seeing his face, she sighed and said,

“You should learn to take care of yourself, Harry.”

“Yeah, I will,” he said, as if he didn’t want to disappoint her more than he already did.

“And about tuesday, I was just not in the mood to have breakfast and I had some errands to run, that's why I had to leave so soon. And besides, you had company, so it wouldn't have mattered even if I stayed. What was his name again?”

There it is, he didn’t like Daniel.

“Dan” she said timidly.

“Yeah, Dan” He spat.

Y/N felt like she had to tell him about Dan. She didn’t know why but she felt so.

“Dan has been my best friend since my childhood. He's been there for me through thick and thin. He's almost like my brother, no he IS my brother.”

Hearing that, Harry visibly relaxed. His frown disappeared. So, he wasn't her boyfriend. He replied, as if it hadn't affected him.

“You didn't have to explain anything to me.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”, she said and he smiled at her.

“Yeah?” He seemed happy.

“Yeah.” She replied with a soft smile.

His left hand found its way to the apple of her cheeks and his thumb caressed it. She saw his eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips, as if asking for her permission. Her lips parted in shock but she found herself leaning towards him. She was only an inch from him, his breath hot on her cheeks, when they were interrupted by Anne’s voice calling out to her from the living room,

“Y/N, where are you? Come have a drink”.

She suddenly pulled away from him. Her mind was racing, what just happened?

“Uh..Yeah, I'm coming…” She stuttered out and stood up.

She looked at him to realize that she had royally fucked up, because he looked shocked to his core. Did she just imagine him looking at her lips? Did she just try to kiss Harry?

“I…” She didn’t complete the sentence and ran out of the room.

-----------------------------------------

Thank you for reading. Feedback is appreciated!😊❤️

Masterlist

Please let us know if you want to be tagged/messaged in the next part.

Taglist: @mendesblurb @violetsandfluff @reveriehs @a-strange-familiar @swiftmendeshoran @daphnesutton @f-folkwhore

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msfbgraves · 2 years

Text

I ship Cherik. Me, and nearly all the X-Men fandom. It's the fandom flagship, and all possible iterations of the pairing may have seen the light of day by now.

We all ship it, while acknowledging that in canon, Erik has often been very willing to actively hurt or endanger Charles, even before the 'beach divorce', and after, too. (I'm referring to the method Erik uses to kill Shaw, knowing full well that Charles is part of that. Him dropping a stadium on Charles, him using Charles as a vehicle to kill all humans). And Charles can be a right bastard, too.

So fluffy!

But we deal with it: fixit AUs, tooth rotting fluff, blood curling angst. Nobody is posting DNI's for shipping Cherik even though their love can be anything but wholesome. We still don't go around calling 'abuse apologist' for writing a coffeeshop AU.

I also ship Silverusso, among a great many other Cobra Kai ships. This is a ship that, I'll grant, didn't start of from an honest place, and both are very willing to hurt the other. There's an age gap between the two, but even though some ship it between a 17 or 18 year old teenager (the timeline is incredibly vague and contradictory about that) and a man in his mid-thirties, presumably, it is also completely possible to ship it between a man in his fifties and one in his very late sixties or early seventies.

Because at some point, the attraction between the two was clearly mutual.

Yes, the canon attraction between them is subtextual, just as the majority of Cherik, but in the same "This subtext is rapidly becoming text" way, or the same way Johnlock never kissed in canon. (It was 2011, deal with it.)

And the fandom has the same range from tooth rotting fluff to blood curling angst.

Except this time, the larger fandom will block you for shipping it on sight.

"This is not a safe space for you!" non-shippers exclaim. "Don't you dare tag the gifs with the ship!"

I thought that was because love is only allowed to exist when it's happy, but then, Cherik isn't, or Hannigram. Is it because of the age gap? But why does that matter between two middle aged men? Is it because of violence in their past? But then why is Lawrusso a perfectly acceptable ship in that fandom? Johnny Lawrence harrassed Daniel LaRusso, pushed him off a cliff, nearly killed him in a mugging. But that's OK as long as they're both teenagers? Or is a power differential OK if it is a group of highly trained, rich, martial artist teenagers against one untrained poor teenager, but not if one of them was an adult at one point and the other wasn't (again, this is highly debatable)?

I mean the actors have absolutely no problem playing a dark sexual tension between the two, then or now. Neither did the Cherik actors. The writers have demonstrably no problem writing lines like: "I like this attitude on you", "It was easy to disrupt your marriage. You let me walk right in", or have a younger Daniel gushing about Silver. And the actors have great respect for each other.

But the non-shippers in this fandom keep making seperate call out posts on their blogs. Not content with saying it's their notp, but forbidding others to even interact with their posts (not comment, interact at all).

It can't be the violence in their past or present (for god's sake, it's cobra kai! How often have Johnny and Daniel fought?) It's not that dark ships are generally unacceptable on Tumblr. It must be that at one point, Daniel was a teenager and Silver was not.

But then, so is Gradence, and that fandom has never compelled me to post my fics on anon, or forbade me to read gifs as dark shippy.

Other fandoms seem to understand that you can be fascinated by love that isn't healthy, and you can go as dark or as feather light in fandom as you please.

Just learn what a NOTP is, CK stans. You're being very weird.

#cherik #silverusso

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hamartia-grander · 1 year

Note

Daniel for the ask game? 👉👈

OOH okay!

1. Sexuality headcanon: honestly I could see him either being panromantic asexual or just gay.

2. Otp: I don't really have one? There's plenty Daniel ships I'm fond of though. I've seen Daniel x Allen, Daniel x Sixty, Daniel x Rupert, those are all cool.

3. Brotp: Daniel and North lmao

4. Notp: Daniel x Connor but only bc I hc Connor as aroace, not because I hate it

5. First headcanon that pops into my head: he and Simon knew each other before and Simon blames himself for making it to Jericho when Daniel didn't. (I also hc them as being like brothers but that's usually just in canon divergent or human AUs)

6. Favourite line from this character: uhh he's kinda deranged but I guess when he says "You lied to me, Connor" bc Connor lied to him and that's true

7. One way in which I relate to this character: I too have an all encompassing fear of my loved ones realising I'm not good enough and replacing me :D

8. Thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: I wanna like support him but he seriously was just too extreme. Killing the dad I could understand somewhat but holding Emma hostage was too far, so when he tries defending himself in that way I just roll my eyes.

9. Cinnamon roll or problematic fave: problematic fave💀💀

#dbh #Dbh Daniel #daniel pl600 #Asks #Thank you anon!#detroit become human #Ask game

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veilder · 2 years

Text

Veil's Prompts Masterlist

I'm running very low on prompts now so I've decided to consolidate all of the one's I've posted into one, easy-to-find list. I'll leave a brief description of each one and a link to the posts. Any warnings are posted on the prompts themselves. Enjoy! ^_^

1. Connor gets visibly scarred and Gavin helping him come to terms with it.

2. Beauty and the Beast Convin AU

3. Captain Allen encounters Vigilante!Sixy

4. Rarepair Chris Miller/Gavin Reed

5. Human!AU Kid Nines gets caught up in one of Gavin's cases. (Convin)

6. Gavin getting framed as a crooked cop and Connor being the only one to believe him. (Convin)

7. Markus being plagued by errors and eventually encountering Sixty and Amanda in the defunct Zen Garden.

8. Hank/Fowler (Howler lol) Rarepair friends to lovers

9. Daniel & Emma found family roadtrip with Kara and Alice

10. Reed-Kamski Bros fix-it fic with side Convin and also a murderous RT600.

11. Olympic!AU with hockey player!Gavin and figure skater!Connor. (Convin)

12. Connor gets severely damaged on a case. Gavin saves his life to everyone's surprise. And reveals himself as a tech genius at the same time. (Reed-Kamski Bros)

13. Gavin is the responding officer to the incident the first time Kara gets broken. And he accidentally becomes an android rights icon because of it. (Potentially rarepair Gavin/Kara?)

14. Daniel/Sixty Rarepair fic

15. MMA!AU with up-and-coming middleweight Gavin, old heavyweight champ, Hank, as his coach, and Connor as the new, top-of-the-line trainer android sent to them to help refine Gavin's technique. (Convin)

16. Echo x Ripple Rarepair backstory fic

17. Kamski is deemed a threat by the US government during the Revolution and is set to be detained. He manages to escape but is forced to leave Chloe behind. And now he's on a mission to get her back, no matter what it takes. (Chloski)

18. The Parent Trap-inspired AU that no one wanted, lol. Featuring precocious twins, Connor and Silas, scheming to get their parents together. (Endgame Hank/Amanda)

19. Gavin Reed being a Grinch, but his boyfriend making his Christmas better. (Convin, Christmas fic)

20. It's A Wonderful Life-inspired AU wherein Gavin suffers a messy breakup, gets drunk, and pesters his estranged half-brother enough that Kamski sticks him in a prototype simulation machine that shows him what things would be like if he'd never been born. (Reed-Kamski Bros)

21. Hank-centric post-canon fic where he encounters the medical android who operated on his son.

22. Canon divergence where Connor deviates in the evidence room before Gavin comes to find him. An unlikely partnership comes of it.

23. Post-canon fic wherein Fowler sends Hank on an undercover mission and is forced to fake his death to survive, leaving Connor to grieve him.

24. Crackfic wherein Kamski, as CEO of CyberLife, is desperate to patent his "android" technology. The only problem? The last holdout of Google and their Samsung phones. XD

25. Nines-centric fic focusing on him being the antithesis of his fanon characterizations and embracing the drama inherent in the RK line.

26. Connor, in an effort to win Gavin's affections, reads a trashy magazine, and, from the tips it gives, determines that his brother is actually better suited to the man. Cue him being an absolute idiot and trying to set Nines up with Gavin, despite them not having feelings for each other. All the while he pines like a dumbass.

27. Crackfic wherein all 200,000 RK900 prototypes get accidentally shipped to retail stores to be used as mannequins.

28. The absolute chaos that ensues when you stick Sixty and Perkins in the same room and they accidentally become evil bffs.

29. The one where Connor, as a specialized prototype, has the ability to "mark" people with "scents" he can use to track them down. An ability which he finds he has to use when he gets partnered up with Gavin Reed for an undercover assignment. (Convin)

30. Sixty giving Gavin the most terrifying shovel talk of his life. (Convin)

31. Canon divergence where Connor manages to deviate at the last moment during the bad ending. And, with nowhere else to go, he seeks out the human who made it possible. (Hank and Connor friendship/family bonding)

32. Gavin 100% embodying the tsundere trope and getting hella jealous when he thinks Connor and Chloe are in a relationship.

33. Anderfam/RK Bros-centric fic where Sixty wants to differentiate himself from his brothers and undergoes a procedure to change his appearance. Except it goes very wrong.

34. Crackfic where Nines' reputation as a hardass is because his humor settings were never turned on. And when that's fixed? Chaos ensues.

35. Time travel!AU where Gavin is actually sent back from the nuclear ending future to try and stop the Revolution from happening, only to fail when Connor knocks him out in the evidence room. Except... things happen differently this time. And he has to come to terms with the fact that the enemy he's been fighting for so long might actually be alive after all. (Convin)

36. Human!AU where Gavin and Connor went to high school together. And Gavin used to bully Connor mercilessly. Cut to the present where he ends up in the hospital only for Connor to be his attending doctor and exactly Gavin's type, too. Cue him making an absolute fool of himself as he tries to win over the guy he used to pick on while hopped up on meds. (Convin)

37. The Old Guard-inspired AU wherein Connor is an immortal warrior. And Gavin is his mortal lover who reincarnates every few decades. (Convin)

38. A newly-repaired Sixty, who feels bad for his actions during the Revolution, sets about trying to improve Connor's reputation around Jericho. And accidentally makes a home for himself along the way.

39. Failed Revolution ending. Connor has been reset and recommissioned as a teaching aid, used to demonstrate CyberLife's new anti-deviancy software. He's sent to the DPD for one such demonstration. Gavin Reed might have a few problems with that.

40. Ensemble cast Heist!AU! Mostly centered around disgraced cop, Hank Anderson, and former CFO of CyberLife, Connor, as they try to take the company down.

41. The one where Fowler is sick of his detectives fighting and sends Connor and Gavin to mandatory therapy. Except they accidentally get put in couples therapy instead. Shenanigans ensue. (Convin)

42. Angsty premise where Connor's biocomponents are slowly degrading. Gavin's POV as he notices.

43. The inexplicable WALL-E-inspired AU in which Markus is the last living being left on Earth after centuries of war and Nines is a newly-awakened model sent back by the remnants of humanity to assess the devastated planet.

44. The one where an alive and adult Cole Anderson becomes partners with a certain Android Sent by CyberLife and a loudmouthed Sergeant named Reed to solve the deviancy crisis.

#Veil's Prompts #masterlist #long post #God there is so much Convin on here XD #RIP to y'all but it's my fave so deal with it XD #but yes I finally got this done omfg #took like an hour!!!#but at least it's done now #I've been meaning to do this for ages!#also please let me know if any links are wrong/broken!!#I do not have the mental capacity to go through each on rn!#but I hope they're right

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detroitbecomeonline · 1 year

Text

TAG NAVIGATION 6

Return to BLOG CONTENT NAVIGATION.

Organised by multiple characters (A-Z)

Groups (All red tags are under construction or are being edited)

#dbh squad (multiple characters without a specific grouping)

#dbh trio (main three)

#dbh cops (cops only) #hank connor and nines

#anderfam, #hank connor and nines, #hank connor and sumo

#manfred family, #manfredfam

#jericrew

#rk brothers

#dbh androids

#karafam (kara, luther, and alice)

Duos

#carl and leo

#connor and allen

#connor and amanda

#connor and fowler

#connor and gavin

#connor and kara

#connor and markus

#connor and nines

#connor and north

#connor and simon

#connor and sixty

#connor and sumo

#gavin and tina

#gavin and kamski

#gavin and sumo

#hank and connor

#hank and fowler

#hank and gavin

#hank and nines

#josh and simon

#kara and adam

#kara and alice

#kara and luther

#kara and ralph

#markus and carl

#markus and josh

#markus and kara

#markus and leo

#north and simon

#north and gavin

#north and josh

#ralph and jerry

#rose and adam

#simon and daniel

Ships

#chlorth (north x chloe)

#con700 (connor x pm700) (i ship this!)

#connara

#convin

#kamcon

#norkus (ship and no ship content)

#reed900 (ship and no ship content) (i ship this!)

#simarkus (ship and no ship content)

#rk1k

#rk1700

#traci x traci (i ship this!)

#mine #menu

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the-lone-writer94 · 2 years

Text

Tainted Love

Tony Blundetto (The Sopranos) x Female Character Rating: 18+ (Warnings: Sex, m*sturbation) Word count: 7,275

Summary: Paige Dennings has moved back to her hometown of New Jersey where she runs into the one and only Mr Tony Blundetto... completely captivated by him she is under his spell, they both quickly spiral down a dangerous road.

Paige Dennings peered down at her watch and groaned. Danielle was late again. She sat by the window with two cups of coffee, no doubt, Danielle’s was already ice cold by now. Paige had gotten a chocolate chip muffin and had taken several bites every now and then as she waited. Danielle better have had a good reason for being late, especially when this was the only time Paige was able to get time off.

It was late in the afternoon and Jenny’s Cafe was always a Ghost Town. Paige sat back in the metallic chair and huffed. Summer was approaching and she felt the sweat dribble down her back, her tank top clinging to her body like a second skin.

“Any chance to amp up the air con, Jen?” Paige whined to Jenny, the owner of the cafe. She was a woman in her late sixties with a messy bun and she wore a floral apron.

Jenny shook her head. “Sorry, dear- I’m trying to save as much as I can, and this time of the day- there isn’t much business. So the air con is turned down… low.” She explained apologetically.

Paige fanned herself with her hand, she felt bad. She had known Jenny her entire life, she was the woman who always baked her birthday cakes every year. And she was aware of the struggling businesses in the neighborhood.

Just then, the bell above the door rang and in came Danielle. She was of average height with a thin body, she always wore tight clothes that showed off her figure and her red hair was teased. She wore heavy makeup with large gold hoop earrings. “I know-” Danielle immediately said.

“You’re late.” Paige said, and folded her arms over her chest.

Danielle sat down opposite of Paige and took off the sunglasses which sat on the top of her head, then placed it beside her. “I’m sorry- I was on the phone with Max-” she explained then rolled her eyes. Max was Danielle’s boyfriend, they had broken up and gotten back together more times than Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder, plus their constant bickering drove Paige insane, but Danielle was her best friend and Max was still her friend (somewhat, anyway), and so, she would endure.

“The coffee is cold, but that’s what you get.” Paige spat.

Danielle and Paige held their gazes, then both burst out into laughter.

“I’m still mad though, this is my only day off.” Paige said, then took a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

Danielle sipped her coffee, then took Paige’s chocolate chip muffin. Paige tried to bat her hand away but Danielle was as quick as a cat. She took the muffin and bit down, then smirked at Paige.

“God- why are you working at that shithole anyway?” Danielle asked.

Paige sighed. “It’s the only job I can get.”

“You went to University of California? I don’t understand why you’re pushing papers for Rosalie Petrillo at that God awful dingy travel agent.”

“I need the money-” she explained. “Of course, I’d rather be off writing for the New York Times, but I gotta pay my dues alright. And right now, Rosalie Petrillo is what's keeping my wallet lined… slightly, anyway.” She added.

Paige groaned and she reached up to the side of her neck. The crick in her neck had been torturing her for at least two weeks now. She massaged the side of her neck, hoping to relieve it.

“Just go to a chiropractor, would you?”

“Fucking insurance doesn’t cover it.” Paige fumed.

“Well, just go for a massage then.”

Paige shook her head. “I tried it… those masseuses can’t do shit, they just rub you with scented oil. No, I need someone that is either a chiropractor or a licensed massage therapist- but cheap. I can’t afford shit right now.”

Danielle’s brows furrowed. “Actually, I might know someone- yeah,” she said.

Paige peered up at Danielle. “Seriously? That’ll be great.”

-----

Paige despised living in the basement of her parent's house. Her parents had already converted her old bedroom into a gym when she had gone off to California for college. Ever since graduation, which was about a month ago, Paige had moved back to Jersey. It was definitely odd- being back here, it suddenly felt as if she had never left, that those four years in California were nothing more than a distant memory.

At least her parents were away for the weekend and she would enjoy having the house to herself, and Danielle had come through in finding a cheap massage therapist. Danielle had gotten in touch with Adriana who had arranged the session. Paige didn’t know how they managed to get a licensed massage therapist for hardly any money, and that they did house calls. It was certainly too good to be true, but she wasn’t going to complain, as long as they were able to help her.

The massage therapist would be here any moment, and Paige decided to change out of her clothes and into the white robe. She then proceeded to head upstairs into the living room, where she had pushed the armchair aside to make room for the massage table. Paige inspected the area and nodded, that should be enough room as she thought. She peered at the clock that rested on top of the mantel above the fireplace, her appointment was at 08:00 P.M.

Ding dong. The doorbell chimed. Speak of the Devil, Paige thought to herself. She strode out of the living room and into the hallway, she unhooked the door chain and opened the door. To her dismay she saw a man who was around his late 40s, he had dark hair which was slicked back, with huge cerulean blue eyes, he wore some sort of a uniform that was dark blue with an embroidery on the left hand side that read Kim’s Southside Laundry, his sleeves were rolled up revealing his numerous tattoos, the top several buttons were undone and Paige eyed the gold chain around his neck. Although, she must admit that he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint where she may have seen him before.

Paige clutched her robe and shifted in her position. “Can I help you?” She asked with caution.

“I’m the massage therapist.” He said.

Paige’s eyes widened in horror.

“I’m… Tony Blundetto.”

“Paige-” she said and nodded. “Oh- sorry, I thought you’d be a woman.”

The man looked down at himself then back up and met Paige’s gaze. “No.” He chuckled. “So… Can I come in?”

Still in utter shock, Paige edged to the side and allowed him to pass through. He carried the portable massage table into her home and she shut the door behind him.

“Just through there.” Paige said and gestured towards the right where the living room was.

He smiled and strode into the living room. What the Hell was Danielle thinking? Did she know that it was a man? Not that there was any problem, but Paige felt incredibly awkward about an unfamiliar man touching her. But the neck pain was worsening, so perhaps she would suck it up.

She watched as he set up the massage table, he bent over and pulled out a large thin white sheet.

“Hmm- so where does it hurt?” He asked.

Nervously, Paige responded, “so it’s just the side of my neck,” she raised her hand and glided across her bare skin, then she reached down to her shoulders and explained, “then the pain goes down here.”

He nodded. “Okay, well, you can keep the robe- but it’s more effective if I’m able to really get deep into the muscles.”

“Oh, right-” Paige responded, her voice was quiet like a mouse. She felt incredibly nervous being around him, in fact, Paige had always had a desire for older men, and it was no doubt that she was definitely very attracted to him.

He handed the sheet to her. “If you could wrap this around yourself and lay on the table face down,” he explained, then added, “I’ll be out in the hall. Just call me when you’re ready.” He said.

Paige took the sheet from him, and their fingers touched briefly which sent a jolt through her veins. Their eyes met, and he walked away from her out into the hallway. Paige’s heartbeat pounded against her chest, so loud that she could almost hear it. Hurriedly she took off her robe and wrapped the thin white sheet around her body. She had kept her underwear on but she felt very aware that the sheet was indeed very see-through.

She climbed onto the massage table, face down and shifted in her position. “I’m ready,” she called out.

Footsteps prodded across the floorboards and she felt Tony’s presence near her, hovering over her body. His fingertips brushed aside her long hair, and he gently pressed onto the side of her neck, it immediately sent electrical impulses through Paige. He then began massaging her neck, then moved down to her shoulders and then to her shoulder blades. Pleasure found her, and Paige released a moan. She tensed. Tony obviously remained silent, now both his hands were positioned on either side of Paige’s shoulders as he gently pressed down onto her muscles.

“You’re holding a lot of tension here,” he commented.

No shit. Paige thought to herself- how could she possibly relax when he was touching her?

“Hmm yeah-” Paige said, her voice slightly muffled. “So… hmm, have you been doing this long?”

He let out a low chuckle. “It’s okay- you don’t have to respond to me, just try to relax and untense.” He suggested.

For the next couple of minutes, Paige had tried her hardest to untense, but she couldn’t stop fixating on the fact that Tony’s hands were all over your body.

“Hmm, if you could turn over,” he said.

Paige tensed. He moved back and she pushed herself up, clinging onto the sheet, she shifted in her position and laid flat on her back. She fiddled with the sheet over her chest, but she was suddenly very aware that her nipples were poking out.

Tony stepped around to Paige’s head, as his fingertips pressed down onto each side of her neck, he then closed the gap between them and Paige was well aware that his crotch was now a mere inch away from her face. He leaned over and massaged her pectoralis major, her breathing quickened and she clenched her legs together, trying her best to not get turned on.

A couple of more minutes had passed and somehow Paige had actually fallen asleep. “Well, we’re all done here,” he said, which sent Paige snapping back to reality.

“Oh, wow,” she said, as she sat up and clutched onto the sheet, her bare back was exposed and Tony couldn’t help but look.

She reached up to her neck and felt relief.

Tony wiped his hands with a linen cloth and said, “I’ll let you get dressed,” he said and smiled before he walked off again.

Paige almost felt disappointed. She jumped off the massage table and unwrapped the sheet from her body, then she pulled her robe back on and called for Tony, who responded immediately. He proceeded to pack up his things as Paige went to grab her wallet.

“It’s thirty bucks right?” She asked.

He nodded. She handed him the money and he slipped it into his shirt pocket. He grabbed the table and his bag then Paige guided him out the front door. “Listen, if you want another session-” He began, then paused.

Paige smiled and nodded, “Hmm sure, I’ll let you know.”

He smiled back and before Paige knew it, she was alone in the house again. She paused and recollected what had just happened. Immediately she charged to grab her cell phone off the counter, she flipped it open and punched in Danielle’s number.

It rang for a couple of seconds before it connected. “Hello,” Danielle’s voice said.

“How could you not tell me the massage therapist is a man? And it’s fucking Tony Blundetto of all people-”

“Woah, honey, slow down- look, I didn’t think it was a big deal that it was a guy. You needed someone that was cheap and knew what he was doing. Tony hasn’t technically gotten his license yet which is why he only charges so little, and who cares if it’s Tony Blundetto… you’re not bothered about you know,” she said.

Paige flinched. She knew exactly what Danielle was saying, after all, Paige had grown up in Jersey her entire life and was perfectly aware of what was going on around the neighborhood. In fact, she had heard of Tony Blundetto and how he was connected and served a fifteen year prison sentence. “Oh come on- it’s not because of that. It’s just weird to have a guy touching you like that.”

“Well, did he at least help fix your neck pain?”

Paige sighed. She knew this was a losing battle, and so she responded, “yes he did.”

------

Tony hated himself.

He should have asked Paige out… but he protested the idea. He had been in the can for so long that he had almost forgotten how to ask out a woman. Plus, he figured a beautiful girl like that, no doubt she would already have a boyfriend- and even if she didn’t, why would she go for an oldie like him.

He laid in bed and contemplated his thoughts. He would have to be up in three hours for work. Kim definitely worked him like a dog, but he figured he had to pay his dues now that he’s a citizen again. Whenever he felt like quitting, he would remember his main objective- opening his own massage parlor.

He rolled onto his side, trying to fall to sleep but whenever he closed his eyes he only thought of Paige. He thought of the way his fingers gilded across her soft skin, the way she moaned beneath his touch. He chuckled to himself, imagining how she would react when it wasn’t just his hands touching her. He shook his head, then sat up in frustration.

Tony turned and his hand reached out to his bedside table. He pulled out several pieces of tissue paper and laid them beside him. And, he would do what he had done so many times whilst he was in prison, jerk off.

It seemed sad and pathetic now, all of a sudden. Obviously, in prison he had no choice but to jerk off in the shower, after all, he was only human.

His hand glided over his boxer shorts as he stroked himself. Immediately, his breathing quickened as he closed his eyes and thought of Paige. Imagining her hand over him. It didn’t take him long to get hard, and he pulled out his dick. He then reached for the hand lotion that rested beside him on the bedside table and pressed down on the pump, it was St. Ives, the expensive shit as well, which cost him about nine bucks. After all, now that he was out, he was certainly going to treat himself to the fancy stuff. He wrapped his hand around the thickness of his cock, gliding up and down and up down. His chest heaved, as he quickened his pace, going up and down. He pumped his cock faster, his breath quickened. Imagining Paige’s lips wrapped around him, was enough to drive him into ecstasy. His hand moved faster and faster, before he released his seed and moaned at the same time.

He threw his head back as he tried to catch his breath. He knew full well that there was nothing going to satisfy him until he had Paige underneath him.

---------

Paige wore her best black halter neck dress tonight, it opened on the side revealing her long legs, she wore her black pumps and had a sparkly silver clutch. It had been a long week and she was ready to blow off some steam. Adriana was having a ‘90s night at her club, The Crazy Horse, which Paige thought was odd as the ‘90s weren’t that long ago. However, she swallowed the skepticism and would enjoy herself tonight.

Once Paige and Danielle entered the club, it was buzzing with energy. Music was blasting through the speakers and the ground beneath them vibrated.

“I’m gonna get a drink!” Paige yelled over the music. She pushed her way through the sea of bodies, glancing behind her to make sure Danielle was still there.

It took a while before Paige reached the bar, she was immediately greeted by Adriana. “Hey girls,” Adriana said cheerfully.

“Hey Ade,” Paige responded, then leaned over the counter and kissed Adriana on the cheek.

“Hey,” Danielle said and repeated Paige’s action.

“Busy night?” Paige asked.

Adriana huffed. “Don’t even get me started- two toilets are blocked in the ladies, which Chrissy was meant to get someone to fix but the plumber was a no show. Then, the alcohol guy is running late… and I’m low on beer-” she whined.

“Oh God-” Paige said.

Adriana shrugged. “Oh well- what can I get you girls?”

“I’ll have a Jack Daniels and Coke.” Paige said.

“Cosmo.” Danielle said.

“Coming up!” Adriana responded, then snaked her way through the end of the bar.

Paige shifted in her position and rested an arm on the counter, her eyes scanned the club as the sea of bodies bounced up and down towards the rhythms of the music.

“See any cute guys?” Danielle asked and smirked.

Paige stared at her unamused. “That’s not what I was looking for.”

“But… is there anyone you like?”

Paige pursed her lips. “Nope,”

“Seriously? What about Mikey… he was checking you out the other day.”

“You mean Michael Giordano?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Paige pulled a face. “That guy is such an idiot. Didn’t he try to inhale a plastic balloon and pull it out of his throat?”

“Come on- that was in high school.”

“No, thank you- I need a guy who I can actually have a conversation with, and isn’t going to be pulling some stupid practical stunts like that.”

“Like an old guy?”

Paige shot her a cold glare. Just then, Adriana returned with their drinks and slid them across the counter. Paige fumbled in her clutch, and Adriana raised her hand. “It’s alright sweetie, it’s on me.” She said.

“Thanks.” Paige said cheerfully, she took the drink and sipped it. Suddenly, a beat that Paige knew all too well came on. Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage was playing through the speakers. She turned to Danielle and said enthusiastically, “Oh my God, I love this song! Let’s dance.”

Danielle moaned. “I’m not really in the mood for dancing… I think Max is gonna be here soon, I don’t want him to not be able to find me if I’m on the dancefloor.”

Paige rolled her eyes. She knew this was going to happen when she had heard that Max would be joining them tonight. “Well, look after my drink please,” she said, as she took a few more sips and set it back down onto the counter.

Paige strode into the center of the dance floor and lost herself to the music. She closed her eyes and allowed the music to consume her body, she swayed and raised her arms in the air, then she ran her fingers through her hair. Paige danced and danced… she completely forgot where she was, then she opened her eyes and to her dismay she realized someone was watching her. Tony Blundetto.

He was seated on a barstool, beside him was Christopher, Adriana’s boyfriend. Tony watched her like a hawk, he smirked and he took drags of his cigarette. His hair was slicked back and he wore a crimson red polo shirt that was unbuttoned on the top, revealing his gold necklace and Paige noticed part of his tattoo on his chest that peaked out. Paige blushed. She twirled her fingers at him, and he simply nodded. She spun and continued to dance, knowing full well that Tony was watching her. Paige danced the night away, and she finally paused when she felt her body drenched in sweat, she was completely parched and figured it was time to take a break. Disappointment found her as she wasn’t able to spot Tony.

She made her way out of the crowd and back towards the bar, her eyes scanned for Danielle but she was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Danielle?” Paige asked Adriana who was fiddling with the bar tap.

“Oh sweetie, she told me to tell you that she had to bolt- something with Max came up.”

Rage shot through Paige. “What! She was my ride.”

“Hon, she’s sorry… here, have a drink,” Adriana suggested, then slid a glass containing Jack Daniels and Coke to Paige.

Paige raised the glass to her lips and sipped on the drink through the plastic red straw. She slammed the glass down on the counter. “Listen hon, I can drive you home, but you’re gonna have to wait till I close up-”

Just then a figure loomed nearby Paige and she immediately found herself tensing. “Hmm- I can take you back now if you like?” A familiar voice said.

Paige was almost afraid to turn. Her heartbeat quickened at the sound of that low and seductive voice. Tony. “Hmm… I wouldn’t want to impose.” Paige stuttered.

Tony flashed a smile. “I was just leaving anyway.”

“Thanks,” Paige responded and smiled, then added, “maybe after this drink, we can go.”

“Sure,” Tony said, then turned to face Adriana, “how ‘bout a Scotch neat.” Adriana nodded, then retrieved a glass and a bottle of Scotch, she slid it across to Tony who wrapped his large hand around the glass. He raised the glass near Paige and said, “Salute.”

“Salute.” Paige repeated after him. Once the glasses clashed against each other she felt a pang of awkwardness rush through her. Her palms were wet and she felt her heartbeat pound against her chest, so fast that she thought it was going to lurch out of her chest.

A couple of minutes later Paige found herself following Tony towards his car. They paused in front of a white SUV. Tony opened the car door and raised his hand. Reluctantly, Paige placed her hand in his as she allowed him to help her into the passenger seat. He closed the door and walked around to the other side. It left Paige unsure on how to feel, she had never been with a man that had such courtesy.

Silence lingered in the air and Paige shifted in her seat, fiddling with the seatbelt. It didn’t take Tony long before the car roared into life and they were on the road.

“So… how did you like Adriana’s club?” Paige finally broke the silence.

Tony seemed taken aback. “It was nice… hmm, not exactly my scene,” he said and chuckled.

“Yeah- I guess not,” Paige said and laughed.

“How’s the neck?”

Paige’s hand reached up to her neck. “It’s a lot better… yeah. I think I was also sitting incorrectly for too long at work.”

“What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m just temping for Rosalie Petrillo at the travel agents… it’s hmm… kinda long work.”

Tony scoffed. “Rosalie Petrillo will work you like a dog.” He commented.

Paige ignored his remark, she didn’t want to risk anything bad getting back to Rosalie Petrillo’s ear. “It keeps me going… especially after graduation-” She said then paused, suddenly feeling awkward for sprawling her life story out to Tony Blundetto, who she was certain wouldn’t give a damn.

He peered over to her. “Hmm, graduation.” He said, suddenly he pondered about the age gap between himself and Paige.

The rest of the car ride was a mixture of awkward silences and conversations, then finally, Paige recognized the familiar streets that were her home. Tony pulled up in front of her house and Paige found herself not wanting to get out.

“Thank you for driving me home. Danielle can be-” she said and then paused, shaking her head. “No, nevermind.”

Tony smiled. “It’s really quite alright. And, if you need another adjustment, just give me a call-”

“Yeah… sure, thanks.” She responded. She took off her seatbelt and paused again.

Just when her fingers curled over the door lock. Tony said. “Actually… hmm- would you like to have dinner sometime?”

Paige was taken aback. “Oh-” she watched as Tony's jaw clenched. “I would love that.” She finally said and smiled.

Tony smiled. “Great.”

----------

The boiling water had overflowed and flooded the stove. “Fuck!” Tony cursed. He stepped to the other side of the kitchen counter and pulled the first rag he could get his hands on. He padded it carefully around the stove, then turned the heat down low. He hadn’t cooked in a while and his skills were definitely rusty.

He peered at his pot to make sure that the ravioli wasn’t overcooked, before he made his way to fix up the salad. Tonight was his date with Paige and to say he was nervous was an understatement. Of course, he would have loved nothing more than to treat her to a nice fancy expensive meal at Vesuvio, but money was still rather tight for him- especially how he had blown most of his recent earnings buying the twins game consoles. What choice did he have? He hadn’t been around for most of the twins’s lives, and he was just trying to make up for lost time.

Tony tried to set the table as nicely as he could, he had managed to get his mother out of the house and had rummaged through the linen closet for the best tablecloth they had owned. He also bought a couple of candles from the store and took out the fancy china he had used during his wedding night with Nancy. God, that seemed as if it were forever ago.

He quickly glanced down at his wristwatch, he still had about an hour before Paige would get here, he wiped the sweat away from his forehead and returned back to the stove. He hated that he felt this nervous.

---------

Paige huffed and threw away the dress she had placed in front of her body. She stared at the mountain full of clothes she had dumped onto her bed. Nothing felt right. Paige also hadn’t exactly dated in a while… She was just tired of all the boys she met in college. They all smelled and would constantly stare at the floor when she spoke to them.

Paige stood in front of her mirror and placed both hands on her hips. She quickly glanced at her digital clock that sat on her bedside table, time was running against her. And then she quickly settled on a white halterneck dress which reached down to her knees, she didn’t bother wearing a bra, knowing full well that her nipples would be peaking out of the fabric- that was exactly her intention, she was going to seduce Tony Blundetto.

She wore open toe white high heel pumps, which revealed her candy pink toenails which she had painted the night before. Paige strode over towards the bathroom and applied mascara to her lashes then powder to her face and pink lipstick, she ruffled her hair and then took a couple of steps back to admire herself. With her all dressed in white she almost looked virginal, she scoffed- there was clearly nothing virginal about her.

Paige took a huge deep breath, took her keys and made her way up the stairs leaving her home.

The drive over to Tony’s place wasn’t too long, after all they lived in the same neighborhood. As Paige pulled up in front of his house she turned off the ignition and breathed in and out. She closed her eyes and muttered to herself, “You can do this. It’s just a date… you’ve been on dates before, this is just like any other.”

Finally, Paige removed herself from the car but not after exhaling deeply. She gripped the bottle of red wine she had picked up on the way over here and made her way towards the front door. Nerves found her and she tried her best to stop her hands from trembling. She knocked on the door and soon after the door was ajar.

“Hi,” Paige said, her voice was slightly squeaky and she blushed.

“Hey,” Tony responded and flashed a smile. “Come in.” He said and stepped away to allow Paige to cross over.

Paige stood awkwardly as she waited for Tony to guide her. “I bought wine,” she blurted, “it’s hmm- nothing fancy.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He said, then took the bottle of wine from Paige. He strode through the house and Paige followed him on his heels. Paige tripped over an object which made her jump. Tony spun around and saw the plastic toy that was on the floor. He groaned and picked it up, then cast it aside. “I’m sorry- my kids were here this morning, I didn’t really have time to clean up.”

“Oh, it’s okay-” Paige said.

They walked in silence as Tony guided her towards the kitchen, he immediately went towards the stove and scooped out the ravioli onto two plates.

“Hmm- it smells good.” Paige said, and was able to gaze at Tony. His hair wasn’t slicked back like it usually was, instead his chestnut brown hair was tousled and flopped down the side of his forehead. Paige liked it this way, and she thought of running her fingers through his hair. He wore a black shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, which was then tucked into his black pants and he wore black leather brogues. Paige’s attention became fixated on his black leather belt, she imagined unbuckling it and pulling it off aggressively. Her sinful thoughts made her wet and she almost sank to her knees. She bit her lower lip and placed her thumb near her lips, gently nibbling on her nail.

“I hope you like it-” Tony said, which brought Paige back to reality.

“Can I help you with anything?” She asked.

“No, you’re a guest,” he said, then added, “why don’t you sit down and I’ll be right out.” He added, then gestured towards the dining table which was adjacent to the kitchen.

“Sure,” she said and smiled, then walked over towards the dining table and seated herself down on the chair. Paige twirled the ends of her hair and hiked her skirt up, then crossed her legs over each other. She shifted in her chair and positioned herself so that her bare legs were exposed and in view when Tony would walk in.

Not long after, Tony appeared and set down two plates of ravioli with pesto sauce. He paced back and forth, this time he brought over the wine. Paige leaned forward to help him, but he insisted that she sit back.

Finally, he sat down opposite her and he raised his wine glass, Paige repeated his action and they both clinked their glasses together. She set down the wine glass and said, “This all looks really good. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” He said.

Paige took a first bite of the ravioli and moaned. “Wow, this is really good. Better than my ma’s,” she said, then added, “don’t tell her- she’ll probably kill me.” Paige laughed, and so did Tony.

��Your mother’s Gloria Mariano right?” Tony asked, his brows furrowed.

Paige nodded.

“I went to high school with her.”

Paige was taken aback, then pondered the thoughts. “Hmm, I guess you would have-” It was suddenly odd to fixate on the fact that Tony and her mother crossed paths.

The realization found Tony that he had perhaps made things awkward. He cleared his throat, then proceeded to pick up the wine glass. He sipped a couple of sips before he set it back onto the table. “So-” he began, “I heard you recently graduated. What did you study?” He wanted to cringe. He clearly hadn’t dated in a very long time, that he wasn’t even sure how to hold a conversation anymore.

“English Lit,”

Well at least Tony did a ton of reading whilst in the can- this was a subject he was able to explore on. “What are your favorite books?”

Paige set her fork down, then pouted. “You’re gonna think I’m so stereotypical-”

Tony smiled. “What? No, I’m not- come on, what is it?”

“Promise me you’re not going to laugh.” Paige teased.

Tony raised his hands in the air. “Promise.”

Paige stared at him, her eyes narrowed and she giggled. “Jane Austen… Pride and Prejudice.”

Tony smiled.

Paige playfully slapped him on the arm. “See! I knew it!”

“What? I didn’t say anything.” Tony laughed.

“You were thinking it,” Paige whined, “of course a girl in her twenties is going to like Jane Austen, right?”

“Hey, I’ve read Jane Austen-”

Paige cocked an eyebrow.

“I have- I had a lot of time in the can. I read anything-” he said then paused. “I’m sorry… I know it makes people uncomfortable when I talk about… that.”

“No, that’s not what I- Tony, I don’t care about that,” Paige said, then gently placed her hand on his arm. Her gaze met Tony’s and she smiled, then removed her hand. “So- I told you my favorite book…”

Tony leaned forward in his chair. “You wanna know mine,” he said, then laughed, “well- to tell you the truth, I’m rather stereotypical myself-” Paige cocked an eyebrow, as she waited for his answer. “Jack Kerouac… On the Road.”

The rest of the evening had taken on a life of its own, there were still moments of awkward pauses, but both Tony and Paige had managed to relax over the course of the next few hours. After they had finished dinner, they had proceeded to move over to the couch in the living room. Paige sat on the couch beside Tony, every now and then, she would inch closer towards him. She was practically sitting on his lap. Her bare legs were pressed against his, and Tony tried his hardest to not fixate on that fact. Paige held the glass of wine in her hand, and she felt the alcohol hitting her.

They talked and talked. About books and political events. She enjoyed being in Tony’s company, and finally felt as if she found someone who matched her intellectually.

Paige’s gaze met Tony’s. She stared at his hands that rested on his lap, remembering how his long fingers had brushed over her body, the way his hands were all over her bare skin, and it made her ache. Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound of thunder and Paige jumped up from her seat. She glanced at the clock that was in the middle of the mantelpiece just adjacent to Tony, and her eyes widened.

“Oh my God! Look how late it’s gotten.” She gasped. “I should get going-” Even though her mouth was telling her to leave, her body certainly was telling her to stay, as she did not move a single inch after she had declared her departure.

Tony edged closer to her. “It is late…” he said.

“Yeah,” Paige said breathlessly as she realized just how close she was to Tony. Her legs were now resting upon his thighs. “It’s also starting to rain…” she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Tony edged closer toward her, his hands were now on Paige’s arm and she felt a jolt course through her. “The rain is going to get heavier later on… and it’s dark… It'll be hard to drive in it. Maybe it’s safer to stay indoors.” He whispered. Paige felt his hot breath caress her skin.

“I guess it is safer to stay here… with you.”

Desire possessed them. Tony’s lips came crashing down on Paige’s and she moaned into him. Paige’s lips parted and Tony’s tongue slipped into hers. Immediately her hands became wrapped around Tony’s neck. He pulled her in closer so that Paige was sitting on his lap. Paige’s fingers became entwined in Tony’s hair, she tugged onto it with much urgency as she deepened the kiss. Tony’s hand caressed Paige’s shoulder then he moved down to her arm and then he placed it on her waist, gripping down hard. He had forgotten the feel of a woman, the last time when he had touched Paige it clearly left him wanting more, she was like his drug and he was addicted.

Paige pressed her chest against his, Tony’s hands rested upon Paige’s hips and he pulled her in closer. Paige’s hand caressed the side of his face, it then draped down to his neck and then his chest. Her fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt as she tugged down, then with the help of her other hand she began unbuttoning his shirt. Tony did not protest, as his tongue continued to dance against Paige’s. Paige practically ripped his shirt open, exposing his tattoos. She opened her eyes for a mere second and traced the tattoos with her fingers. Abruptly, Tony stood up and Paige’s legs became wrapped around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck harder as he carried her across the living room. He made his way towards the basement where his room was. He reached the threshold and then paused.

All of a sudden, Tony drew back and set Paige down on the ground. Taken aback, Paige stared at him. Her mouth ached from the makeout session, she wiped the corners of her mouth which were completely wet.

“Is everything okay?” Paige asked.

Tony stuttered. “Yeah- it’s just… I’m sorry, but it’s my fault. You’re a very nice girl, and-”

“What’s going on?”

“Is it too fast for you?”

Paige’s eyes widened. She realized where he was taking her… to his bedroom. Was she really just going to jump into bed with him on the first date? They were both consenting adults and fuck rules. “Hmm, we can slow down if you want?”

Tony remained silent and exhaled deeply.

“It’s just… Well, I don’t want to slow down…” Paige confessed.

Tony smirked and immediately they embraced each other again. This time, Paige took Tony’s hand and walked down the stairs towards the basement. Once they reached the basement, Tony scooped Paige up in his arms and placed her on the bed. He climbed on top of her and Paige’s fingers traced his collarbone and then his chest. He lowered himself and kissed her, his gold necklace dangling in her face and tickled her. He groaned and pushed it aside.

“Sorry, I can take it off-” he said.

“No…don’t, I like it-” Paige said breathlessly.

Tony smirked and descended down onto Paige, his mouth crashing down onto hers. Her lips parted and he slipped his tongue into her. Paige moaned, as her hands ran across Tony’s back and then back to his chest. Her fingers gripped on the edge of his shirt as she pulled it down, he allowed her to do so and slipped his arms out of the sleeves. Paige dug her fingernails into his back, hard. Tony groaned, he enjoyed the pain and pleasure.

Tony’s hands caressed the side of Paige’s breasts, his hand lingered over her breast and he hesitated. He then grabbed onto Paige’s breasts and she moaned. His thumb gliding over her already hardened nipple. It felt so fucking good.

Paige reached up to undo the straps to her dress, Tony helped her and peeled off the dress, exposing her naked body. Immediately, Tony lowered himself down onto her breast, he placed his mouth over her nipple and sucked down. Paige threw her head back, her hand found its way into Tony’s hair as she tugged onto it.

“Oh God-” Paige cried out in pleasure.

Tony then sucked on her other breast and then went to leave a trail of kisses down Paige’s stomach before he reached down to her crotch. Tony glanced up and watched as Paige writhed, her eyes were closed and her mouth was in the shape of an O, her hands ran over her breasts and she pinched her own nipples. Tony placed his mouth over Paige’s folds and Paige immediately moaned. His tongue flicked her clit and she cried out. Tony knew that the guys like Tony S. and Sil liked to joke about a man going down on a woman, but Tony was never like that. In fact, he loved nothing more than to watch a woman moan and cry out wanting for more. His tongue went in circular motions and Paige screamed in pleasure, her legs closed squishing Tony’s head slightly and he loved it… loved that she was all his.

He went down on her for several more moments, just right before Paige was about to reach ecstasy, he drew back. He wiped the corners of his mouth, and Paige realized he had stopped. She opened her eyes and watched as he knelt there, his hair was tousled and he had a devious look in his eyes.

“Now what do you want me to do to you?” He asked seductively. Paige wanted him so bad, like he was her poisonous apple.

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat. “I want you to fuck me.” She said breathlessly.

He smirked again, then leaned over her. His face was so close to hers that she felt his hot breath on her skin. “Really? Is that what you want?” He teased.

Paige nodded. “I want you to take me and fuck me-” she repeated.

Tony smirked again, he remained silent as he unbuckled his belt, very slowly. Anticipation was killing Paige and she sat up, her fingers immediately curled over his pants as she undid them and pulled them off, she chucked them aside as she was faced with his long hard member.

He reached over towards his bedside table, pulled open the drawer and took out a condom. He tore it off with his teeth and slipped it over his cock. He then positioned himself by Paige’s entrance and then he slipped inside of her. Paige moaned.

Tony’s hand cupped the side of Paige’s face as he began to thrust inside of her. He groaned and grunted.

“Oh God- yes-” Paige moaned.

He thrusted harder and faster into her. Paige grabbed the edge of the pillow, she bit down onto her lower lip as she called out Tony’s name, which made him hornier and he thrust into her harder. He gripped the sides of her waist for support as he continued to thrust into her.

He fucked her hard. Paige wasn’t sure how much longer she could take, the pleasure was killing her. She moaned again and again as Tony’s cock continued to ram her. And then, they both reached ecstasy as they cried out in unison.

They were both panting and trying to catch their breath. Tony slumped down onto Paige, their sweaty bodies clung to each other. He discarded the used condom and pushed his hair away from his forehead. Then, his hand patted over his bedside table for his pack of smokes. He drew a cigarette and sparked it up, allowing the smoke to reach his lungs. Paige had immediately fallen asleep, and once Tony had finished his cigarette he wrapped his arms around Paige as they both slept.

#the sopranos fanfic #the sopranos fic #tony blundetto fanfic #tony blundetto fic #tony blundetto x female character

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