Capital Vices | JTK

ENVY

Envy: the intense desire to have something that someone else possesses.

Listen while reading: Poison - Alice Cooper

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, sir kink, praise, degradation, bratty sub, lots of dirty talk, name calling, overstimulation, forced orgasm if you squint, drinking, swearing, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of breakups/breakups, mentions of hookups, mentions of substance/addiction/withdrawal, mentions of divorce/bad past relationships, mentions of death/dying, mentions of loss of a parent/grief, guilt, regret, depression, general sadness, anxiety, jealousy/possessiveness, very brief mention of guns, sorry if i miss any!

The haze of smoke in the room was becoming overwhelming, and even though it would normally be enticing, now it seemed nothing short of a nuisance. A basket of fries sat in front of you, ketchup lazily pooling next to the pile of fried food. Although originally put there for a dipping sauce, now it's only purpose was to make the fries soggy and even more unappetizing. Your hunger seemed to have fled you, but in truth, never really existed in the first place. You only convinced yourself to order it as an attempt to resume some sort of normalcy to what life was like months ago. A triple whiskey sat in front of you, deliciously tempting, but the exact opposite of what you needed to feel better. Ray approached you, a knowing look in his eye and his usual, raggedy towel slung over his shoulder.

"Been a while, darlin'." He leaned on the countertop, looking down at your untouched order. "Missed ya."

"Yeah, I guess it has." You chuckled, swirling your ice around your glass. "How've you been?"

"Livin'." He replied, taking a long look over your face. "And you?"

"Oh, you know." You forced a smile onto your lips, beginning to realize that coming out was the worst thing you could have done. "Working, sleeping, and working some more. An exciting life I live." You neglected to mention the days of wallowing that had come before your arrival at the bar and the horrific heartbreak you were experiencing. Now that you did not have Jake to occupy your time, you had decided to return to your weekly Friday night routine; drinking yourself into oblivion at the bar and falling asleep alone. What used to be so fantastic was now gut-wrenching, and the thought of returning to an empty bed was killing you.

It had been about a week since your blowout with Jake, and he did well to heed your wishes. Not once had he tried to reach out, and neither did you. As the days dragged on and no contact was had, you slowly started to understand that the relationship was over, and all you could do was mourn what was once so beautiful. Instead of trying to fix things, you thought it was easier to tend to your wounds in seclusion and move forward with your life instead. You hadn't even so much as looked at a picture of him or spoken his name, and you didn't plan on it. If you knew one thing about healing, it was that doubling back only ever made it hurt worse.

You missed him, but not nearly enough to lose your dignity by begging for him to come back. If he did not want you, and sex was the only thing you were good for, so be it. He got his fill, and you would not lose any more respect for yourself by running back to him and trying to get him to see you were worth more than that.

"Not spending time with that guy who was with you the other night?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a response.

"No, definitely not." You gave a chuckle, shaking your head. "Waste of my time, Ray." You reminded, forcing him to recall your many drunken ramblings about men.

"He do wrong by you?" He asked, trying to get to the bottom of your quiet brooding. You shifted in your seat, taking a long sip from your beverage.

"No," you shook your head. "I started it." You confessed.