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love-bitesx · 1 year

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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

#hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk #spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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theharddeck · 5 months

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start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come��”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

tag list: @cheekymcgrath @laracrofted @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @hangmanssunnies @callsignspark @lewmagoo @mxgyver @sebsxphia @daggerspare-standingby @ryebecca @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanbrainrot @sometimesanalice @wildbornsiren @whoeverineedtobe @clancycucumber230 @javihoney and i think a couple folks have changed their URLS, so please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #misskielwrites

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briefalpacashark · 11 months

Text

MILES 42 Spoils you

Warnings: None.

(Dont know who the artist it but props to them. Amazing stuff)

Miles loves to spoil me. He's got plenty of money, thanks to the buyer's market for fancy gadgets and Miles' insanely smart brain, and a few choice investments. Money was no longer a problem for him. He had paid off his mothers mortgage and the only reason why Rio still worked was because she respected her own independence.

The gift giving started off slow. The appreciation I showed fuelled his desire to gift me anything and everything.

I started catching onto his antics and shut it down.

“You like that one Mami?” I felt Mies place his hands on my hips from behind as he peeked over my head at the small stuffed animal on display in a window.

“No,” I flatly refused, going to step away only for him to hold on tighter pulling me back. Miles was stronger than me by a long shot. So my attempt to escape was easily foiled. I could see his smirk in the reflection as he moved to encase my body in his arms resting his chin on the top of my head.

“The green or the blue?” he asked.

“Neither,” I muttered.

“Come on Mami, Which one?” he asked, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“I was just looking at the cute cashier,” I stated without thinking.

“Who the old lady?” he asked with a smirk. Looking at the cashier, I grimace slightly.

“Come on Mi Amor,” he coaxed his lips, finding himself a sweet little spot on my neck.

“Nope,” I popped the p.

“Mi vida, Hermosa, Mi Alma, Mi Amada, Cariño, Mi Reina, Bebe,” with each pet name his gentle pecks got more intimate. Trailing down my neck and sending my cheeks a flame. Finding my sweet spot rather easily my eyes widened as he started to suck on it, fully intent on forming a hickey. Pushing the pleasant shiver it sent though my body I cleared my throat.

“Fine!” I suddenly declared. He smirked giving the spot one last peck before straightening up.

“The blue,” I muttered trying to fix my hair pretending that the kisses had not affected me in the slightest.

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

Staring at the blue teddy on our bed I huffed in defeat.

Yet as I started to shut down his habit he found ways of literally forcing me to accept it. Whether it be teasing me to the point of acceptance or just flat out ignoring me as he bought the item. The honeymoon period of him actually listening to me diminished in less than a month. Hell I had even tried returning items, Miles caught on and started refusing the receipts when he purchased stuff.

So I made it my mission to not go shopping with him anymore. I succeeded mostly yet sometimes he would still pop up.

It was working to an extent.

Until one day when we went to watch a live performance in the park with Jessica, my best friend and Shiro. I guess you could call him Miles' best friend. The performance was canceled last minute so Jessica decided that we should go shopping. I tried to refuse but Jessica was like Miles in a way. Wouldn't take no for an answer. So there we were walking through a clothing shop. Miles hung closer to me watching and waiting for any reaction I would have. Any slight hint that I liked something and his card was out. Luckily for me I had been practicing the art of deception. The whole time I kept a millstone smile on my face. Miles hated it.

“You're not fooling me with that smile,” he whispered into my ear.

“Oh really? Well I wonder why your cards are nice and snug in that wallet that hasn't left your pocket,” I stated smugly, giving him a wink before turning back to Jessica that held a shirt to her chest asking for my opinion.

“What's up with him?” Jessica asked, nodding to Miles who now wore a slight frown, more than usual.

“I won't let him buy me anything,” I muttered.

“I'm sorry. You're not letting him buy you stuff? Are you sick?” she asked, reaching for my forehead pretending to check my temperature.

“He gets me too much stuff,” I muttered with a small smile pushing her hand away as we walked to the other rack leaving a moody Miles behind.

“And that's a problem, how?” she asked. “You have a sugar daddy and you're not using him,” she tisked going back to looking at things. I hated the feeling that settled in my gut at her words. I know she was just joking but it still hit me deep.

“Hey Mami, we're gonna go check out some things I'll be back,” Miles muttered, gently tapping the side of my hip as he stepped up behind me.

“Ok, meet you at the food court?” I suggested.

“In an hour?” he asked. I nodded and waved him off.

“Now that they're gone we can actually do some shopping,” Jessica said wagging her eyebrows. She dragged me straight towards Victoria's secret. I wasn't gonna lie, I had a good time. Trying things on. Looked at everything that caught my eye without the worry that Miles was gonna buy it. I even bought a nice jacket for Miles. Seeing him sitting down I walked up behind him reaching around to cover his eyes with one hand.

“Hands out,” I demanded with a smile. Miles put his phone down holding his hand out. Placing the bag in his hand I pulled my hand back wrapping my arms around his neck as he opened it.

“What's this for?” he asked holding the jacket up.

“What can't I spoil my man?” I asked, giving his cheek a quick peck before sitting down next to him. He chuckled lowly at my words absolutely loving how I called him ‘my man’

The next day I got back from work walking into our apartment.

“Miles, I’m home,” I called out rounding the kitchen and stopping upon seeing a pile of bags on the dinner table.

“Hey mami,” he called from the couch, keeping his eyes on the television.

“Miles,” I sighed, already knowing what was in those bags.

“I really don't see what the big deal is,” he shrugged, already knowing what my sigh was for.

“Miles,” my tone was more serious now, it snapped slightly and my anger appeared. Miles' head tilted to the side slightly at it. I rarely held this tone. But I had had enough. It was getting out of hand. Miles and I rearly fought. And our fights were mostly me ranting and Miles using a calm tone as he listened.

“What's that tone for?” he asked.

“You know what it's for,” I snapped, chucking my bag on the table looking over it all. Hearing the TV shut off I refused to turn around as he approached me.

“Mami,” he whispered.

“Don't Miles, I'm mad at you right now,” I shook my head walking away from him.

“Babe, come on,” he sighed.

“No Miles, you just don't listen, do you know how frustrating that is?” I ranted ripping my scarf off.

“It's not like you listen to me all the time,” he shrugged, leaning against the door frame of our room. My head snapped to him in a glare that had him sighing again.

“What's got you so wound up. Huh?” he asked softly. That stupid soft understanding tone. That one that held no anger. That's why I hated arguing with him. He never got angry. Never. Frustrated maybe.

“Jessica called you my sugar daddy,” I whispered under my breath, kicking off my shoes.

“Sugar Daddy. Well I like the sound of that,” he mused with a small smirk.

“Miles,” I huffed.

“Aight aight. Lo siento,” he held his hands up in defense.

“So am I gonna have to pry what's bothering you out of ya or?” he trailed off.

“I don't want you to think I'm with you just because of your money. I don't like it, it's so fucken stupid and it makes me feel sick,” I continued to rant moving about the room.

“Mami, hey hey, come er,” he walked forward gently grabbing me, pulling me out of my pacing. His hands rubbed up and down my upper arms as he whispered to me in spanish trying to calm me down.

“Why would you ever think that?” he asked with a frown.

“It's not just me. Other people say it,” I muttered.

“Did those other people know that you were with me when I had a whole total of two dollars to my name. Where my idea of an expensive date was a trip down to the seven eleven and a push bike ride to the lookout?” he asked reminiscing on when we had first gotten together.

“Well no,” I muttered.

“And do they know that you work an honest job and against my wishes pay for your own things. That you pay for what you think is half the rent when really I already bought the apartment and put that money into a savings account that I would have told you about when we had our first kid so you wouldn't stress about buying stuff for em?” my eyes widened slightly at Miles casually mention of not only lying to me about the rent but the talk of a kid. I should be really angry at him for lying to me. But all that was running through my head was a kid.

“You want kids?” I asked softly. We had never talked about kids before.

“Who wouldn't want a little you runnin round?” he asked with a small smirk. My chest flushed with warmth at the sincerity in his eyes.

“Why don't you?” he asked.

“Of course I wan- No wait. I'm getting distracted. You've been lying to me! MIlES!” I snapped.

“Mi amor you're angry, How about we calm down,” He suggested his arms moving to encompass me.

“No, I will not calm down,” I huffed trying to get out of his hold.

“Ok,” he shrugged before tipping us back, myself hitting the bed and him flopping down atop me.

“Miles!” I yelled trying to wiggled out from under him.

“Hum?” he hummed, not moving an inch.

“God you can be so frustrating,” I huffed, giving up on my struggle.

“I'll get up when you calm down,” he muttered simply. I gave one last shake before huffing again.

“You know I read somewhere that adults who can't accept people buying nice stuff for them is because when they were a kid their parents would say stuff was too expensive. Messed with the kids mind and made them think they aren't worthy of being gifted stuff,” Miles mumbled. Hearing that my mind instantly snapped back to when I was young. Money was tight growing up. My parents tried their best to shield it from me but I was smart enough. Seeing my parents so worried about paying rent, I guess it could have left a mark.

“Stop trying to be smart,” I huffed. Miles was smart. Crazy smart. As in genius einstein smart.

“You deserve the world Mami. And I'm the one that's gonna give it to ya,” he whispered softly.

“I don't need the word Miles. I only need you,” I whispered my arms moving around to hug him, my hand gripping the back of his shirt. Rolling us onto our sides he shifted me up so we were looking at each other.

“Who else am I gonna spend my money on huh? I send a bunch to charities. I look after my mum as much as she will let me. At least you let me buy you stuff,” he muttered.

“Let you?” I propped an eyebrow.

“Yes Mi Vida. You let me, even though you try not to,” he grinned. I sighed, shaking my head reaching up to grab his face.

“I love you Miles. I love YOU, Not your money. Not this apartment. I would love you if you had not one penny to your name. You know that right?” I asked. I wanted him to know it. I needed him to know. For a long time he simply stared at me. In his mind he wondered what he had done to deserve the love of such an amazing woman. He knew I didn't care whether or not he had money. But the main reason why he did what he did, why he sold his tech was to make a life free of such worries.

“I know,” he whispered, his own hand reaching up to cup my face. “ So let me spoil you. The whole reason I did it all was to make a life free of the worry of money. To make a good life for us,” he whispered honestly. I pressed my lips together. He had a point.

“Fine. but only once a month,” I huffed.

“Once a month?” he asked, pretending to be appalled.

“Fine once a week,” I muttered. He grinned, pulling me into a sweet kiss. I smiled, trailing my finger down his chin as he pulled back.

“Say, you busy this evening?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked.

So there I sat. On the handlebars of Miles' old push bike. In one hand I held a slushy. I wore the biggest smile on my face as we rode through the town, my hair gently billowing in the wind. Looking back I caught a glimpse of one of Miles' genius true smiles. A smile so wide and toothy that it showed his dimples.

“You wanna know something?” I asked, turning back to the front. He hummed, signaling for me to continue.

“This has got to be the best date yet,” I said.

“I guess it's alright,” he mused.

#miles molares #miles g morales #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #earth 42 #miles prowler #miles 42 #across the spiderverse #miles morales #into the spider verse #miles 42 x reader #earth 42 miles #milesxreader #miles42

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sideeve · 11 months

Note

can you do a miles e42 fix based off of broken clocks by sza

U LUV ME | with 42!miles

— it’s been 3 years since you’ve dated him. why he still talking about you like you together ? i’m not officially back but i just LOVE this concept. and i love sza🤭 ex!miles, both characters are like 17-18, reader has a younger sister, simp!miles fr, reader is still in love with miles but is stubborn, probably makes no sense whatsoever

“ma,” miles kneeled in front of you. “i’ll do anything to win you back. swear. i’ll drop the prowler job. anything.” his hands were wrapped around your legs as he begged for you to take him back.

“you swear?” you pull him up, he now towers over you. “swear.” his lip inch closer to yours “i lo—”

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” your sister, nicknamed yaya, repeatedly hits you in the face with a pillow. “damn. i’m up, i’m up.” you sit up as she hits your back.

you grab the pillow, throwing it in her face. “i said i’m up.” “mama said you better be ready in 10 minutes or you’re gonna have to find another ride to work.”

you turn your head, looking at the clock.

it read 9:45.

shittt.

“get out so i can get dressed.”

*time skip*

you had barely made it in time for work. “hi, welcome to [ insert favorite cafe ], how can i—get out.” your voice was quickly filled with hatred. “chill, ma. i just wanted coffee.” the boy laughs. “not from here. go.”

you refused to serve him. you knew what was to come next.

“i miss you.”

“my mom won’t stop talking about you.” know well it was just him ranting about how he wanted you back.

“i want—”

“you want a caramel frappe, no whipped cream, a chocolate chip, warmed. i remember.” you deadpan. “i want something else.” your brows raise in shock, “so you have changed.”

“you.”

you groan. you bit your tongue, trying so hard not to yell at him to get out of your store. “i take that back.”

after completing his order, you slid him the drink and cookie, “that’ll be 12.65. cash or card?” he slid you a 50. “keep the change.” he walked off, sipping his newly made drink.

*time skip to the next day*

the day before was stressful. you had karens upset bc you didn’t give them a drink at 75 degree exact, too many customers, not enough staff. it was a miracle you made it out alive.

your sleep once you got home was well deserved. it was peaceful.

until the next morning. your phone was blown up by your best friend trying to get your attention.

[ name ] ! when did u and miles get back together ?

[ name ] girl wake the fuck up.

i know you see these messages. don’t make me come to your house.

answer me hoe😡

you quickly unlock your phone,

“tf r u talking abt?”

he posted on his private story. sum abt “when you two talk it out and cuddle” some shit like that. the caption had you name on it

your head hangs low when they sent the screenshot.

this motherfucker is really delusional.

“we never got back together. tf is he on?”

you threw on some clothes, storming your way to miles’ house.

you knew his mother had work at this time so you have no mercy to his front door. “miles, open this fucking door. imma kick it down.” your tone let him know you were pissed. he opens the door, “what are you mad about ma?”

you raise your phone at his face. “what is this?” he leans back, getting a good look at it. “oh, i was letting people know you’re mine.” you tilt your head, eyes squinted. “are you fucking crazy? what part of “we’re broken up” do you not understand? we ain’t together. end of story.”

he laughs, making you more upset. “that’s what you think. why do you think no one has asked you out yet?” he smirks. “because they know that you’re mine. anybody who wants you gotta go through me first. and you and me both know that’s not gonna end well.” he snickers.

“miles—” “i’m not done.” he cuts you off. “look, i know me being the prowler affected our relationship. but i’m done with that. completely. i’m focused on you right now. i’m tryna do better for you.” he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“i’m yours.”

you smirk at him. “and how do i know you don’t have any hoes in your phone right now?” “be reasonable right now.” he smile drops, his nostrils flaring. “okay, i was joking.” you laugh.

“so, what’s this mean ma?” you purse your lips, “i guess we can get back together.” he grins, pulling you closer. “you don’t know how much i missed you. and this ass—” his hands squeeze your ass before you smack his hands away.

“i can always change my mind, miles.” “okay, i was just kidding.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction

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mrswolffs-blog · 4 months

Text

Seeing his ex-wife again was the last thing he expected today. Lewis had been busy the whole week going back and forth, getting work done as usual, when Toto called him to be introduced to someone.

Upon arrival, at first the female’s back was turned to his face so he didn’t really see her face. Sniffing the air, he realised that he knew the scent and couldn’t help but take a couple of steps back, not believing that it was her. It wasn’t until Toto tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around did their eyes meet and immediately she looked down at her shoe still in hurt and feeling inferior to the champion before her.

“Lewis, this is your new physiotherapist. Her name is Y/n and she transferred from Ferrari as she was working with Carlos.” Toto explained yet stood quietly as he waited for the ex-partners to interact. “Hi” Y/n said lowly as she shyly waved. Lewis smiled at her weakly as he understood that she never changed even after everything he had put her through.

“Well, the both of you will be walking around today as he does interviews, so I’ll leave you both to it.” Toto said walking away briskly. “Why did you transfer teams?” Lewis asked. “I didn’t really have a choice, they found a replacement so I would’ve basically been left without a job. I thought that they’d give me George but put me here” she explained as they walked.

Entering her office, she went over everything that was supposed to be done before the media day started and they came to an understanding within what each person was supposed to do. Leaving n’s heading off to the media pen, joined by his press agent. They went from one mic to another, Lewis answering the questions yet seemed unfocused every now and then as he looked off to the side to make sure that Y/n wasn’t too far away.

Truth be told, Lewis never meant to hurt Y/n the way he did. It was a misunderstanding that spiralled. What happened was that while he was away for the last part of the F1 season, Y/n was at home and she had went out with friends; got drunk and was sexually harassed.

At the time, Y/n had no idea that it was a crime and so she thought that he she had cheated on him. Crying out her eyes that same night, she called Lewis and apologised constantly as she explained that she “cheated” on him. In shock n’s disbelief, Lewis cursed at her over the phone before hanging up and blocking her.

Through the rest of the week, Y/n woke up everyday to tabloids of pictures and news of Lewis being caught with different women out and about. Crying her heart out, Y/n felt like she deserved it and so she wasn’t mad at him.

When Lewis returned home for the winter break, he tortured her with harsh words, throwing things to scare her and even went as far as bringing bimbos into the house that they share. At the time, when she found out that she was three months pregnant, Lewis cursed at her to say that he wasn’t sure it was his so she should go elsewhere to find the father of her bastard.

Due to all the stress, Y/n ended up going through a miscarriage. During that time, Lewis sat and watched as she rolled about the floor in pain, begging him to help her get to the hospital yet he refused; Miles being the saviour, anonymously stopping by was appalled by his best friend’s behaviour as he took the bleeding woman to the hospital.

While recovering, Lewis served the suffering woman with divorced papers and disappeared from her life after they were signed. It wasn’t until a year later when he bumped into one of her friends who was present that night, that the situation was explained- immediately the dread of his actions dawning in him. He reflected on how he never allowed her to explain herself and all the horrible things he did instead of comforting her.

Being taken out of his trance, the journalist asked “If you were to get married right now, do you have anyone in mind? If so what would you say about them?” She asked gloomily. Smiling softly he answered as he stared across at the woman chatting softly with his boss. “Yeah, I do. She’s an amazing woman who had always been there for me through a lot of hard and good times. I never treated her right at the ending, but hopefully she would be willing to give me a second chance to make things right.” By now the media and fans were going crazy trying to figure out who the mystery lady was.

Toto on the other hand knew that Y/n had heard what he said judging by the tears in her eyes threatening to fall and so he quickly swept her behind to shield her from the cameras as she soaked the back of his white shirt in tears. He was the only one on the team who knew that Lewis took things too far with how badly he had treated the now 26 years old woman who wanted so bad to scream out her pain.

Quickly excusing himself from the conversation with Guenther, he took her by the arm and led her to his office then closed the door for privacy. Immediately the door had shut, Y/n let out an ear piercing scream of a cry that shook the Mercedes building, everyone pausing on the outside who heard through the mic still attached to Toto’s shirt, as she started crying her heart out screaming into Toto’s chest “HE BROKE ME” continuously. Y/n’s head on Toto’s chested, he held her tightly rocking from side to side and she finally calmed down- falling asleep from exhaustion.

Lewis returned to the garage a couple of hours later with a knowing mind that the scream he heard was definitely from the woman he had demolished as he made a beeline for his boss’ office, just in time as Toto was exiting the room. “I just gave her something to eat, be gentle Lewis. I got her transferred here for a reason” Toto patted him on the shoulder before walking away.

Taking a deep breath to keep his emotions in control, he opened the door and slowly entered careful not to scare her. Taking a seat a few feet away from her, he took a minute to rationalise his thoughts before speaking. “I don’t know where to begin, but I just want to say that I’m deeply sorry. I should have allowed you to explain what happened before I went off doing whatever to hurt you. I was so inconsiderate due to the hurt I was feeling to the point that I denied my own child; May God above bless our would’ve been beautiful baby that is now in heaven… I pushed unnecessary anger towards you and it caused a lot of damage that I’m hoping that with time, you’ll reopen your heart piece by piece… and allow me to correct myself. We can date if you want to take it slow… or we could just get remarried and go to a marriage counsellor. We could try to conceive again as I really want a child of own.” Lewis said sadly as tears ran like a river down his trembling face.

“I’m very sorry. I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I should have been rationale but instead I let my anger from work take over and I caused so much harm.” He cried as she gave him a side hug. “I understand. I was naive and didn’t know what happened to me. We both should have been careful of what was said” Y/n spoke shakily.

The rest of the day at the paddock was spent speaking over how they were going about their rekindling marriage.

A YEARS LATER

Lewis smiled brightly with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the pretty bundle of joy in his arms. Lewis and Y/n had been through counselling after getting remarried-once again in secret, as they have just welcome a beautiful baby boy. Lewis shed tears not only of joy but also of rapid regret for his actions towards his first child that didn’t make it into the world.

Y/n smiled with exhaustion as she noticed his reaction. “Lew be gentle with yourself, it wasn’t your fault. We just have to focus on the now and not then or what could have been” she coaxed him softly as they payed to lay ether, a united and happy family at last.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic

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moralisist · 11 months

Text

earth 42! miles x reader

summary: you just wanna understand miles and why he’s been so off. once he’s dealt with you finally ready to leave him, will he tell you the truth?

“miles.. what’s going on?? you’ve been flaky on dates, i’m left on delivered 8 out of 10 times, you’ve even been missing school.” you’re sat on miles bed talking to him as soon as he enters his room by climbing through the window. “and you’re even coming in through the window knowing damn well your door is always open to you. if you wanna end things because you got your own shit going on then-” “no!” the first time miles speaks, its with panic.

“no baby. it’s not even like that. i just- im just dealing w a lot right now. shits busy.” he says slowly trying to speak cautiously. “oh yeah shits busy with you and your uncles shady ass business huh? you think i dont notice you miles? you think i don’t see the small ticks you have when nervous? or the way you bite your lip slightly whenever i mention about it or when you try to deflect like you’re trying to do right now? i love you miles but you know i’m not an idiot. don’t treat me like it.” “baby,” he chuckles trying to diffuse the situation. “you wouldn’t leave me, right mi amor? you just gotta understand, i’m busy i don’t have time for all the shit you talkin bout.”

you’re silent as you look in miles eyes. he’s looking at you intently really realizing that you just might leave him after all the shit he’s putting you through. he can feel his resolve crumbling. he doesn’t know how to smooth talk his way out of this. “miles all the ‘shit’ i’m talking about is us. you don’t want this do you? because i need you to let me know now. i’m tired miles. i’m exhausted feeling like i’m the only person trying to get things to work out. i wanna hear you out, i want to know what’s going on through your head but you won’t let me. i don’t know what to do. i’m so tired of calling your mom every other day to make sure you’re eating and that you’re well on days you don’t talk to me. i’m tired of writing notes for you in class so you can catch up when you barely even pay attention to when i try to teach you. and i’m tired of sitting at booths while waiters look at me with pity after saying ‘would you like the check?’ when you don’t come for hours. i’m really tired miles.” you sigh as you hold your face in your hands finally relieved to get to tell him all the shit you’ve been holding in.

miles genuinely wants to cry. he’s been so selfish. he knew deep down even when pushing it away he’s been hurting you. he knew he was hurting you when his mom would give him the silent treatment after receiving one of your calls and telling him, “don’t string that poor girl along. you got lucky and you don’t even know it mijo.” he just didn’t know how to tell you about him being the prowler. it seems like no matter what he does, whether he tells you or not, he could lose you. when you finish speaking miles looks down at the floor blinking back tears that he doesn’t want you to see. he clears his throat before speaking.

“i’m so sorry baby.” you can hear his voice crack but he refuses to cry in front of you. “i’ll tell you everything. i’m so so sorry. i didnt mean to hurt you cariño. can i hug you baby?” he’s finally walking over to you after putting some distance between the two of you with him leaning against his window and you on the bed. you nod finally ready to get some answers from your boyfriend. he’s holding you close flipping you onto him so that you’re on his lap. he says he focuses better that way.

as he’s telling you about him being the prowler he’s playing with your shirt clearly nervous. he starts to stutter with some sentences and it makes you sad because your boyfriend never stutters. he’s always so confident so you can tell this was really affecting him. he’s rubbing your thighs while telling you stories about him and uncle aaron’s “business”. once he’s done you hug him and put your arms around him as you caress the back of his neck while he’s inhaling your scent rubbing circles with his thumb on your waist.

you move back to see him, the boy you love letting all his emotions out and finally visibly relaxing as he tells you everything he’s been wanting to tell you for months. “thank you for telling me miles. it all makes sense now but i wish you told me sooner. i don’t want you to share this burden all on your own.” you give him a warm smile and he smiles feeling such love for you. “i don’t deserve you, you know that? i know you know that.” he says easing the tension looking at you lightly laugh at his joke. “oh trust i know that. you just charity work.” you both begin to laugh finally easing into each other. “can i get a kiss baby? been needing one for so long.” you hold his face in his arms and kiss him. this kiss is a much more intimate kiss than the others. it holds emotion. he grips onto you tighter, never wanting to remember the feeling of you almost leaving him. he needs you here and he needs you here to stay. and he’s ready to man up and prove it to you.

#earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader #prowler miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales angst #miles morales x reader #miles x y/n #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles angst

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kairiscorner · 10 months

Note

can you do prompt #1 on miles?👉👈

OOOOOOO SURE ANON !! omg i fucking love this

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

my favorite study buddy — miles morales x reader

miles grumbled into his mic over the video chat and groaned. "my parents are... man, why don't i get to do anything around here?" he complained as you kept snacking as you listened to him gripe about how his parents refused to let him go out since he had to help out with chores that night. you chuckled through a full mouth as you smiled. "y'know, itch phunni," you said through a full mouth as you chewed your food. "i'm grounded right now, i can't go out tonight either." you said in a clearer voice as you swallowed.

miles perked up from his pillow when he heard you say those words. "how do you still have your phone, then...?" he asked you, confused, since he knew your parents were strict; the last time you were grounded, he couldn't call you for a whole month since they took your phone away, he wondered what changed this time. miles lazily raised an eyebrow at you. "you snuck it away from where they keep it, didn't you?" he asked you as you smiled and nodded, chewing away at your snacks and answered him with a full mouth again, "rife." you said as miles chuckled.

"how are your parents not catching you speaking on the phone...?" he asked you curiously. you rolled your eyes with a grin. "well, they're not here, fortunately. they still think my phone's hidden, but they never bother to check if my phone's on silent or not, so... called from my mom's phone and it rung, took and snuck it away before anyone could catch me." you explained promptly as miles nodded in admiration. "sneaky." he said as you agreed with a, "you bet."

you looked back at him on your screen and smiled wider as you hatched a plan in your mind. "hey, what if... we tell your parents we have a huge project—or, just a test maybe—that we have to study for together because... because i'm the only one with legible notes so you have to come over tonight." you offered as miles raised an eyebrow at you. "you're serious? dude, you know how furious my mom can get, i snuck you out of my house so you wouldn't have to face it the last time she blew her steam off at me, i can't lie to her." miles rambled as you pretended to act scared.

"but it's not technically a lie, okay, we do have a big test next week! we just won't be studying tonight." you reasoned as miles ran a hand across the back of his head. "you're a bad influence on me, y'know that?" he remarked as you nodded slowly with a wide smile. "if being a bad influence means that i'm helping you live life outside of those four walls you're trapped in, i'm the worst influence of them all, then." you said with a grin on your face as miles gulped and smiled nervously. "promise you won't rat me out for this as blackmail?" "if you aren't ratting me out, i see no reason to rat you out." you said as miles nodded and got up from his bed, walking over to his door, telling his mom in spanglish that he needed to see you tonight to... study.

what a wonderful study buddy you were, no?

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @solecitoszn

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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messrmoonyy · 6 months

Text

Road trip

Tess Servopoulos x Reader

Request- hear me out messr please. Reader along for the ride with Tess Joel and Ellie looking for fireflies. One night they’re holed up in some random house somewhere and Tess and reader need so relief. And they get busyyyyyyy but have to be quiet because Joel and Ellie might hear them. Tess with her hand on your mouth and fucking you and trapping her moans in your mouth🤤🤤 PLEASE

A/n- ngl. I’ve rewritten it twice. And I still don’t particularly like it allll that much. But I promised you guys these smutober posts and now it’s November so I’m v v sorry. But here’s the last smutober post. Enjoy. Smuts on the shorter side but it felt fitting for the scene!

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ | smut- fingering ( r receiving)

Navigation | AO3 | Tess masterlist

“ I’m starving “ Ellie complained for what felt like the millionth time, dragging out her words and dramatically slumping over as she walked with a groan. It made a smile tug at your lips as you watched her in amusement, a glance over at Tess showing she had the same look on her face.

That only made you smile more. Tess had grown an incredibly soft spot for the kid over the months. In fact she’d had a soft spot for her from the very beginning. If it hadn’t have been for her none of you would even be stood where you were now.

Wherever there was.

“ where even are we? “ Ellie asked, hanging back from Joel a little to then look up at you and Tess. As if reading your mind.

“ oh somewhere in Iowa I think. Joel? “

“ Iowa “ he confirmed from the front of the group “ keep up “ Jackson felt forever away, you were all putting in long long days of walking. Taking longer routes to avoid big cities, traipsing through back roads and woodland. You had suggested trying to find a car. Joel hadn’t even given you an answer to that, just one of his looks that said ‘ are you fucking with me right now? ‘

You knew it’d be damn near impossible to find one that still worked but you’d suggest anything to get a break from all that damn walking.

“ you ever been to Iowa? “ Ellie asked, kicking a rock along the ground as she walked beside you. The poor kid looked exhausted. Sometimes you forgot how young she was.

“ no. I never really did any travelling until the world ended. And if I had I don’t think Iowa would’ve been at the top of my list “ you said with a laugh and she nodded, but yawned before she could say anything else. You sighed and placed a gentle hand to her shoulder “ you wanna stop kid? “ she glanced over at where Joel had stopped walking and tried to straighten her self out a little more.

“ I’m not even tired “ you sighed again and rolled your eyes. She seemed hell bent on impressing Joel. Like she had some need to prove to him that she was much stronger than she looked, that she could handle herself. She seemed to forget she was just a kid. And an entire day of walking, plus the fact that she was hungry? It was time to stop.

“ Joel lemme see that map “ Tess piped up, beckoning for it with her fingers before just taking the map from him before he could even agree to it.

“ we still got at least another hour of light we should keep- “

“ I’m tired too “ you interrupted. In truth you thought maybe you could hack another hour or so before you dropped. You were exhausted but you could keep going if you had to. But Ellie couldn’t and two voices were better than one. Ellie needed to sleep. Even if she refused to admit it to Joel herself. Tess glanced over at you, a slight warm look in her eyes as she realised why you had said it.

You were seeing that warmth a little more the longer she was around Ellie. A warmth she’d buried for so long, that only you got to really see, finally being pulled up to the surface.

Some deep rooted motherly instinct to protect this scrappy little kid that was now in your care. Ellie was making her soft. And maybe you too.

“ there’s a small town about a mile that way “ she said and nodded in the direction of the town “ I doubt there’d be any infected we’re in the middle of fuckin nowhere. And it’s so small it’s barely even a town… head into one of the neighbourhoods on the outskirts. Bunk down in one of the houses for the night. Set off early again tomorrow morning “ Joel gave a small sigh before glancing at Ellie and nodding.

“ alright. Let’s go “ you pretended not to catch the look of relief that flashed across Ellie’s face as you ushered her to walk in front of you. Joel led the way and Tess fell into position next to you at the back. She looked tired too. Everyone was fucking tired, you’d like to bet Joel was too. He was just stubborn as fuck about… well everything. But then again, so was Tess. Trying to get either of them to rest for the entire journey had been a mission in itself.

“ this means we can eat soon right? “ you chuckled and nodded

“ we have some of those tins of ravioli you like. Oh and I have some rabbit left over, you can have mine if you want “ she looked quite pleased with that knowledge and seemed to walk a little faster.

“ did you eat today? “ Tess said quietly by your side as Ellie caught up with Joel, ready to hit him with a million and one questions now “ I didn’t see you have anything this mornin and you’re giving Ellie the meat… “ you shrugged and rubbed at your temples lightly, a headache settling itself in. You were tired and tense and hungry. And now the thought of stopping for the day was fully in your mind, you were realising just how tense every single muscle in your body was. Maybe you couldn’t have made it another hour or two.

“ I’ll eat when we stop “ you said and gave her a soft smile as if that would make her believe you more.

In truth your hunger wasn’t the worst thing. It was the fact that you were getting a little homesick.

That shitty Boston apartment and your equally as shitty bed. It was barely big enough to fit the two of you in, was propped up on one side with bricks, but you kinda liked that because it meant you had to sleep wrapped up in Tess’ arms each night. The QZ wasn’t exactly stress free but it was a lot less taxing than traipsing across the country with a kid.

You’d deal with FEDRA fucks and wannabe smugglers over hunters and slavers any day. You missed walking around the QZ with some air of power with Tess, then going back home and spending the evening de stressing from the day with her. The comfortable silence as you counted cards, getting her to lift the two floorboards in the back corner behind the couch to stash your pills. Letting her ease your aching body after particularly stressful days, easing away the ache of bruises with her lips and her fingers.

It had been weeks since you’d had any form of… de stressing with Tess. Of any kind. But particularly the latter.

And the last time hadn’t exactly been anything to shout about either. Needing to have it over and done with as fast as possible before Joel wondered why you’d both been out hunting so long. You’d only just about lost the bruises on your back from where she’d pushed you up against the closest tree the second she deemed you both far enough away from Joel and Ellie’s earshot.

It wasn’t exactly special or even particularly comfortable. It had felt dirty and obscene, to have her fucking you out in the open like that. But you’d gladly take the opportunity again. The things you would do to be back there again, her hand down the front of your jeans and her lips on your neck. Or better yet back in Boston and your shitty apartment, to feel her hands on you. Or her mouth. Or both.

Yeah. Both.

That would definitely ease your achy muscles.

“ sweetheart? “ you glanced over at her and she chuckled at the clearly evident look of confusion on your face

“ huh? “

“ you okay? We’re almost there you need to focus, yeah? “

“ yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I’m focussed. Sorry “ you pushed away the thoughts of your girlfriends skilful hands and mouth, and grabbed your gun from where it was strapped to your thigh.

You could see the small neighbourhood you were heading into at the bottom of the hill, it looked empty. But you could never be too sure In the current climate.

You felt the air shift between your group, everyone preparing for the worst in case there were people lurking in the town. Sticking close to the tree line and keeping your eyes on the windows. The high spots. Looking for any sign of a face or a gun.

“ stay close Ellie “ Tess said in a low voice, the girl instantly moving behind you. You, Joel and Tess were a well oiled machine by that point. It was only natural after so many years as a team. You could anticipate each others moves and thoughts, silently communicate with simple looks. It worked well.

The town seemed abandoned. Most of the buildings collapsing in on themselves, windows smashed and the roof tiles missing. There were one or two in the close vicinity that seemed a little more structurally stable. Joel headed for the one closest pointing for you and Tess to take the back whilst he went for the front.

Ellie stuck close to Tess as you made your way towards the back door, trying the handle to find it unlocked. That was a good sign. You opened it and stepped inside, no noise traps. No actual traps. All good signs.

You cleared the downstairs pretty quickly, finding no one there. In fact it seemed as though no one had been there for years. Thick layers of dust only now disturbed by your boots, the feeling of just… emptiness.

Joel returned from clearing the upstairs and gave a small nod.

“ clear “

You all made your way into the garage, silently agreeing that it was the safest spot to sleep. One door into the house and the garage door that nobody could possibly open silently enough not to alarm anyone.

Joel and Tess found one mattress upstairs that wasn’t completely rotten, placing it in the middle for Ellie. You, Tess and Joel opted for the floor. Using the thin blankets you’d taken from Henry and Sams packs back in Pittsburgh. You were almost used to laying on the hard ground now. So you didn’t really even mind. And Tess’ body warmth was enough to chase the chill away.

Ellie devoured the rabbit and her tin of ravioli, scraping out every last drop of sauce she could and still not looking entirely satisfied. You attempted to offer her the rest of yours but Tess stopped you before you could even say the first word in your sentence, placing her hand on yours to keep you in place. And then offering the kid her own.

“ Ellie. Here “

“ it’s okay I’m- “

“ take it. It’s fine “ she took it sheepishly and whispered a thank you before devouring that too. You placed yours into her hands then “ you need- “

“ we can share “ Tess was stubborn but so were you. And Tess sighed with a nod, taking the fork from you and having a bite. Passing the fork back and forth until the tin was empty. You still weren’t particularly full. But you were used to that too.

Ellie passed out ridiculously fast, making you smile at how at ease she looked even in the current circumstances. Joel disappeared briefly back into the house, sounds of broken glass scattering on the floor before returning. He barricaded the door leading back into the house before turning his back to you all, laying down facing the door with a grumbled goodnight.

You chose a spot in the opposite corner of the room to sleep, always feeling safer when no one could sneak up behind you. You felt safer than you had for the majority of the journey, the singular door out blocked. The windows on the garage door too small to fit anyone through. You could all hopefully get some decent sleep.

You settled under the blanket as Tess unlaced her boots slightly. She never took them off now, in case you needed to make a quick escape. Just loosened the laces. You looked over at Ellie fast asleep on the mattress and silently wished there had been another one to use, the concrete of the floor not exactly comfortable. But still, you were all safe as could be. That was all that mattered really.

Tess scooted down behind you, pulling you back against her chest and sliding her arms around you. So she could keep you close and warm, a deep sigh leaving her and tickling the back of your neck. She’d bundled up her jacket to use as some kind of pillow for you, but she also nudged her arm under your head to keep you off the concrete as much as possible.

“ you doing okay? “ she asked quietly, pressing her face to the back of your neck

“ I’m okay “

“ really? you’re so tense “ Tess said quietly, her fingers tracing up and down your side lightly “ you have been all day “

“ my muscles hurt “ you confessed in a whisper as not to wake up Joel or Ellie “ my whole body hurts “

“ oh sweetheart “ she sighed, kissing the back of your neck softly “ you need to relax “ she murmured against your ear, her lips brushing against your skin and her warm breath making goosebumps rise “ I can help you relax “

Her fingers pressed harder, pushing at your aching muscles through your clothes in a way that actually did offer a small amount of relief.

“ good? “ you hummed an answer, pretty sure you could fall asleep like that. Close your eyes and think hard enough to pretend you were back in Boston, that she was easing the pain after a long day on one of the food depot shifts. Lifting and hauling boxes all day, always going home after that assignment feeling like you’d been hit by a truck.

More often than not it ended with her wandering hands making you come over and over again, because according to her it was the best cure for aching muscles. You didn’t know if you entirely believed her logic, but you weren’t exactly going to complain about it.

Her fingers slipped under your sweater and you shivered at the coldness of her touch, but soon let out a soft sigh as she moved upwards. She unashamedly groped at your chest through the material of your bra, a small involuntary whimper escaping your lips.

“ maybe helping me to relax at the same time “ she mumbled, making a smile tug at your lips. You felt her let out a steady sigh, the warm air tickling your neck. Joel shuffled slightly in his sleep and your froze but Tess didn’t stop “ s’okay he’s still asleep “

You wondered just how desperate she was for you to the fact that she had so little fear at being caught. It made your face flush with heat and your back arch involuntarily against her. Her hand immediately left its position under your sweater and flew to your hip, pulling you back against her and squeezing.

“ I wish you could fuck me “ you whispered in practically one breath, horniness starting to cloud your better judgement

“ yeah? “ her voice was that low, sultry tone that felt like warm caramel. Slow and drawn out, warmth flowing over your despite the cold “ missing mommy’s cock baby? “ a whimper slipped past your lips without your permission again, your eyes darting to Ellie and Joel in fear you’d been too loud. Of course you hadn’t. And both of them remained fast asleep

“ Tess- “ you cut yourself off as her hand danced along the waist band of your jeans, pressing soft kisses to your neck. You felt your skin prickle, immediately knowing what she wanted to do. The cold of the concrete no longer affecting you. And as much as you wanted it, you knew you couldn’t. Not there.

“ we can’t “

“ we can. Just be quiet “ you could hear the smile in her voice, feel it against your skin as she wasted no time and carefully undid the button of your jeans, one handed and skilful in a way you hadn’t quite mastered yet, still pressing those soft wet kisses to your neck.

“ Tess… “

“ stay quiet yeah? “ she whispered as she pressed the palm of her hand against your underwear, making your breath hitch at the pressure. Her finger traced along your slit through the materiel. You felt her smile against your neck as she slipped her way past the cotton restraints, noting that as much as she clearly wanted to do it she also didn’t want to waste any time.

So she was quick with moving her finger between your folds, breath stuttering as you tried to remain quiet and calm. As much as you’d said only a second ago that you couldn’t do it, you found yourself moving your leg to let her have better access. It only made her smile more “ thought you said we can’t do it?” She murmured softly, some mixture of smugness and amusement in her tone.

“ shut up “ honestly though it was you that needed to shut up, gasping a little too loudly when her fingers applied a little more pressure.

Maybe it was a good thing that she clearly needed it over with quickly, because you weren’t confident in your ability to be silent. At all. In fact it was a running joke with her and Joel that you were notoriously bad at being quiet. Joel had complained so many times that he could hear you through the walls. Mostly that just encouraged Tess to make you be ten times louder though.

But thankfully for you- and probably Joel too- you were both in no situation to be loud or draw things out tonight. And she knew your body better than you, so as much as she was able to draw it out for hours. She could also have it over in minutes.

You gasped when her fingers circled your clit, slightly embarrassed by how wet her fingers felt after barely a minute of touching you. You got turned in ridiculously fast “ shh shhh be a good girl nice and quiet. Nice and quiet for me “ she urged, voice still silky and soft.

“ I’ve been thinking about this for so long “ you whispered, eyes falling closed as you focussed on the skilful movement of her fingers. Working at you expertly even within the tricky confides of your unbuttoned jeans.

“ is that where you keep going when you zone out? “ she asked with a small laugh. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were. At least no one knew what you were actually thinking. The last thing you needed was someone in your head seeing all the filthy things you daydreamed about Tess doing to you…

“ maybe “ she laughed again, but it soon fell into a slightly frustrated sigh.

“ the second we reach Jackson we are finding a bed “ she mumbled, shifting around behind you and seemingly trying to reposition her hand to be more comfortable “ or. Anywhere that I can actually get your fuckin naked “

“ hmm that’d be nic- Tess “ you gasped her name as finally seemed to get her hand into a position that she could get into the perfect spot. The perfect rhythm.

“ there we go “ she picked up the speed, lips attacking your neck at the same time in a utterly dizzying combination. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to try stifle any sound that wanted to escape. You were hyper sensitive to every sound. Like somehow your heavy breaths would wake Joel and Ellie , or rustle of the blanket. As if he wasn’t half deaf and Ellie slept like a log.

But somehow that element of fear was twisting into something different, some burning hot type of adrenaline pricking over your skin. Paired with the way Tess was working at your desperate, throbbing clit? You were a goner, already feeling the pressure building and it had barely been a few minutes.

“ you know what else I can’t wait for in Jackson? Hm? I cant wait to hear your pretty sounds again “ you whimpered at the thought. Remembering every filthy word Tess liked to say to you to make you moan, how she would have the smuggest look on her face with every whimper and whine. Showering you in praise for every little noise that passed your lips “ you always sound so pretty for me don’t you baby? “

Your mind replayed as many memories of those times in your head as it could, memories of her words. Her body. God you wanted to see her body again. Wanted to touch her and feel her skin pressing against your own in as many spots as humanly possible. You wanted to bury your face between her legs and never ever leave, make up for lost time and have her make it right back up to you too.

The thought of that, paired with her fingers and lips nipping at your neck, was enough to topple you over the edge.

You trapped her hand between your legs, focusing on trying to stay quiet, shuddering breaths hidden by the thin blanket pulled up to your mouth. You were never more thankful for Joel’s busted ear.

You turned your head, looping your arm around to pull her lips onto yours, not so confident in your ability to remain quiet as you finished. And even with Joel’s shitty hearing and the blanket.

She had the worlds smuggest smile as you moaned softly into her mouth, keeping her hand between your legs as your orgasm washed over you in a draining wave.

It zapped every single last drop of energy you had left in your body, muscles like jelly as you let her go. And in her defence. You were certainly less tense than you had been before.

“ thank you “ you mumbled, eyelids heavy as you tried to not immediately give in to sleep. Tess chuckled slightly and kissed your cheek, withdrawing her hand from your jeans.

“ thanking me for sex now? You really are tired “ you hummed some attempt at an answer and she laughed again, holding you tightly against her “ go to sleep “

“ I owe you one “ Tess smiled and pressed another kiss to your cheek

“ you sure do “

#tess servopoulos #the last of us #tess servopoulos x reader #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou tess #tess x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us fanfiction #Anna torv #x you smut

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variety-fangirl · 2 years

Text

3 Days Away / Jake Lockley x fem!reader

Summary: you and Jake end up arguing about his safety, especially when he comes home worse than ever. After days of silent treatment from him and him refusing to let the others front, you decide a few days away for him to calm down is best.

Warnings: angst, Jake not knowing how to express his feelings until the end, reader feeling hurt and upset, fluff ending.

Authors note: I have a few Moon Knight fics in mind to write, so I hope you guys enjoy them but feel free to send me requests also. Angsty!Jake to soft!Jake, super soft emotional Jake (I know he isn't typically like this but I just loved the idea) This is majorly a Jake fic with bits of Marc and Steven. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really help me out. Thank you my loves! :)

Word count: 2.5k

You hated arguments more than anything, especially with those that you loved and cared about. You hadn't even intended for this to cause a fight, you simply just wanted him to know how scared you were for their safety. It's not like what they did was a typical everyday job where they wouldn't be harmed by dangerous people or killed. Seeing Jake come home with blood covering him, bruises all over his torso and back, and cuts on his face was enough to scare you. You were terrified of losing them, the three most important people in your life that couldn't live without.

And so a few days later you set to have a conversation about it with whoever was fronting at the time, which happened to be Jake. You stayed calm and tried to say your piece without tears, but it had proved futile. Jake had taken your concern as an attack, thinking he couldn't handle himself. The yelling, on his part, had started and your tears had a mind of their own, flowing freely. You silently cried as Jake stood in front of you with a booming voice and red face, you just allowed him to get his anger out, knowing there was no reasoning with him at that moment.

"I'm going to take a walk and let you cool off, okay?" you managed to get out through tears when he stopped, wiping your face as best you could as you stood. You hoped some time to himself would allow him to calm down enough to talk to you calmly when you returned. His silence was enough of an answer to let you know you needed to leave for a bit. His back was to you as you stepped toward him, breathing heavily. Placing your hands gently on his back as you lay a kiss on the clothed area, a small sob choking out in the process. "I love you," you whisper as you reluctantly let him go and walk towards the door, grabbing your jacket in the process.

You look back at him for a moment, not fully wanting to leave so you could sort this out, but you knew he needed space. You watch as Jake leans over and holds onto the wall as he breathes heavily, looking at his reflection in the mirror. They're talking, so you took that as your cue to leave, closing the door behind yourself.

It luckily wasn't too cold out, the breeze only just slightly nipping at your skin. You sighed when the tears refused to stop, a headache already starting to form because of it. Your chest felt heavy with an ache, sadness overwhelming your senses. Your legs absentmindedly took you where they pleased as your brain ran a million miles an hour, worried and hurt-filled thoughts filling it. You knew Jake was hard to reason with when he was angry or upset, but you weren't expecting him to be that angry with you for being worried about his and the boy's safety. You loved them and didn't want to lose them, you wouldn't know what to do if you did. You didn't even want to think about it.

An hour later, you ended up at a small food stall that sold hot food and beverages. You had been planning to cook for you both before the argument broke out, that plan is out the window now. You grabbed yourself something to eat and drink, luckily having found some money in your jean pocket. You found a small park nearby that was mostly empty, it seemed peaceful and a good place to be for a while to clear your head and give Jake the time to calm down. Walking through the trees and pathway led you to a small lonely wooden bench, and you took a thankful seat on it. Your feet ached from walking a long period of time without stopping, the pressure relieving the second you took a seat.

You stared forward at passing byers, eating and drinking without thought. The jacket hugged your body and neck as you wrapped it around yourself tighter, not particularly cold, just needing extra comfort. The added warmth from your hot beverage helped make you feel slightly better, helping to relieve the coldness of your hands and the dull ache in your head. You weren't sure how long had passed with you sitting on that little bench, it was a while but you weren't sure of the exact amount. Having accidentally left your phone at the flat in the rush to leave without thought of necessities, like your phone and purse.

By the time you had started to make your way back, it was beginning to get dark. The walk took a while, but luckily you memorised the way home. When you reached home, you realised that you'd left your keys there. Having to begrudgingly knock and disturb him, the slow shuffling of feet letting you know he didn't want to move. It took Jake a while to answer the door, his red unimpressed eyes staring at you without a word. Still angry it seemed. He simply walked back towards the couch, leaving the door open for you to enter.

You sigh, closing the door and locking it, as he gets back on the couch and wraps his blanket around him. Realising he wasn't intending to come to bed with you, you walk toward him. "I love you and I'm sorry. We'll talk tomorrow," you whisper shakily, tears forming once again. Bending down over the back of the couch, you stroke the mop of black curly hair and place a gentle kiss on the back of his head. You linger for a few seconds, tears falling down your cheeks. Begrudgingly, you walk away from him to your shared bed. You change into one of Steven's shirts and get into the cold bed alone, silent tears falling. You fall asleep with an aching heart.

Two days of silent treatment had been driving you insane, you had expected to talk about it by now but Jake wasn't budging. He wasn't letting the others front either, which made the situation worse. You were sure something else was going on that had contributed to his mood, and you were trying to be patient but it was driving you up the wall not being able to speak. So, in the middle of the night, you decided to go stay with your friend, having checked with them beforehand for the ok. You packed a small bag with your necessities and leave a note for the boys to read when one of them wakes.

'Don't freak. Went to a friend's house for a few days or so to let Jake cool off until he's ready to speak. Can't cope with the silent treatment, I'm sorry.'

You loved them all more than anything, even their flaws but that didn't mean that you could always handle it all the time. Sometimes you needed a small break when one of them was in a mood, to give yourself some time to de-stress. As you walked through the door of your friend's apartment, you set your bag down and turned to face her, she was patiently waiting for an answer to her question. As soon as you saw the look of concern and love on her face, your bottom lip began to tremble and tears clouded your vision. "Oh honey, come here." She gently replied with open arms, her heart breaking to see you like this.

It had been late by the time you'd arrived at your friend's home, around midnight, you knew she'd be exhausted from a long day at work and yet, she refused to go to bed until you were laughing and smiling. Which she exceeded, as she always does. She grabbed a shit ton of ice cream, two bottles of both your favourite wine and fluffy blankets, while you explained to her what had happened (not completely delving into the full truth about your boyfriends and their line of work). She listened intently while you cried and explained what had led you to leave in the middle of the night and go to hers, and she was ever as understanding about it all. At that moment, you were so grateful to have a friend that truly cared about you and your happiness, not wanting to just leave you there crying while she went to bed.

That had been two days ago, and your phone had been blowing up non-stop since. Your friend insisted that it seemed he was ready to talk and going home was probably the best idea, and so you agreed. You didn't really know what to expect when you arrived home, unsure of who would be fronting and how they would react to the whole situation. Would Marc or Steven be angry with you also? You hoped not, you could barely cope with one angry boyfriend, but three? it would just completely swallow you whole. Packing up the little belongings you'd brought with you and making your way back without a word to the boys. You flicked through the messages on the way, the majority were from Marc and Steven, but a few from Jake stuck out. You had expected the other to reach out but not Jake, deeming him to still be angry for a couple of days more.

'Please come home.'

'I'm sorry..'

'Please..'

Your heart clenched and you felt the tears prick at your vision once more, you were fed up with crying. Jake never begged, said please or apologised, so for him, this was rare and he must truly mean it. Those words didn't come from him lightly, and you were thankful. It meant he would be in a much better mood than a few days prior, you didn't know if you could cope with a replay of how you ended up here. The silent treatment was worse than anything, it killed you to see him walk straight past you with a dead expression and not a single word uttered. That was a part of Jake you weren't the fondest of, the fact that he could hide his emotions so well and appear that the situation wasn't bothering him.

What you didn't know was that Jake (Marc and Steven also) had been freaking out the whole duration since you left, not knowing what to do. Marc and Steven had been trying to get through to him, pushing for him to call you and apologise, beg for you to return if he had to, but to get you to come back to them. To him. Jake knew he was terrible at expressing his emotions and they often came out.. wrong, often acting angry or upset when he actually wasn't. He wasn't used to someone caring about his well-being or loving him as deeply as you did, his actions tending to be harsh and not coming across in the way he wanted them to. And yet, you still chose to stay with him and love him unconditionally, accepting every part of him, good and bad.

Jake had been pacing bak and forth for what felt like hours, panicking at your lack of response, worrying implicitly that he'd done it this time and scared you off. Marc began yelling at Jake through the reflection, blaming him for potentially losing you. He didn't know if he could handle losing another important person in his life, 'I swear to god Jake if you've chased away our girl, I'll never speak to you again.' Marc spat menacingly as he pointed at Jake, turning away to calm himself. Steven just looked lost, not quite knowing what to do with himself at the thought of you leaving them. 'Please mate, call her, text her, I don't care what you have to do, just get her back here!'

You were their light, life, and love. Their everything and more, what would they do without you? How would they cope without you? Everything in their life reminded them of you, you did everything together. The route Steven took to work every day as he passed your favourite tea shops, the little corner shop that Marc passes on the way home that you had introduced him to, the little bakery that not many people knew about that made mouth-watering pastry that had converted Jake. Everything was a perfect reminder of you. Even the simple things like letting someone in, trusting someone to know about all of them and their secret, the way you could perfectly tell them all apart from the other. Everything you did was done with love and care. They couldn't bare losing that.

So, when you walked through the door timidly, looking around to see where your boyfriends were, you weren't expecting what happened. Jake stared in shock at you, not fully expecting you to even return home. He breathed deeply, emotions overwhelming him as he'd never felt before, pushing him over the edge. Jake walked quickly toward you and cupped your face in his trembling hands, his eyes filled with tears. You were sure it was Steven or maybe Marc, you definitely didn't expect Jake to currently be fronting with the amount of vulnerable emotions that were showing right now. 'Oh thank god.' Marc whispered, a shaky breath leaving him. Steven stared with wide eyes, silent tears leaving him. If only you could see how grateful they were to see you.

"Mi vida." you stare at him in shock, realising it is Jake when you hear the nickname. You were surprised, he was never this emotional or vulnerable with you. He was usually hard to read and kept his emotions hidden, so seeing him visibly upset made you want to cry with happiness and heartache. Jake pulls your body into him, his trembling lips placing a gentle kiss on your head as he holds you as close as possible. You sigh as tears begin to form, stuffing your face into his warm chest and wrapping your arms as tightly around his waist as possible. You were so thankful that he wasn't angry with you anymore, seeming happy to see you back home. You knew they probably worried when you didn't reply but you wanted to come over as soon as you could.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't angry with you, I'm just not used to someone caring about mine and the boy's safety. Other than us. I didn't know how to handle it and reacted how I usually would, it won't happen again. Just don't leave again, please." Jake whispered into your hair, tears flowing freely. He was so afraid that he'd lost you, he could care less about how he looked right now, he was just thankful you were home. Your cheeks were now soaked, the feeling of relief and love overwhelming you as you both held each other tightly, you made a mental note to spend time with Marc and Steven shortly, also.

"I'm not going anywhere, can't get rid of me that easily. Those three days were difficult with you three." you giggled, looking over to the reflection of the fish tank next to you both, hoping your boys were watching and listening. Luckily, they were with smiles and tears in their eyes. You loved them all more than anything and one argument wasn't going to scare you away.

#moon knight #fluff #y/n #angst #moon knight x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #female reader

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office-to-fantasy · 3 months

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Hello so I really enjoyed when they tortured there s:o and she became like a doll but could you do. A shu x fem reader like where he realizes she broken like he torturing her then ( he likes to hear her crys and screaming obviously) so suddenly she stopped crying and screaming and he just kept wondering and doing until he realized he broke her

Do you understand what I mean

[I feel as though I’ve written something similar to this (here). However, I do believe I understand the difference! Instead of the after, you want the during, yes? Let’s see if I got it! I hope you all enjoy~!]

Shu Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

(Diabolik Lovers Fanfic)

Everyday felt harder to get through… your throat was sore from the screaming and your heart felt like it’d been overworked in more ways than one…

You couldn’t scream any more now if you wanted, not after months of this… of all the pain he’d given you — the one person you never thought would hurt you, at least, not like this.

You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d given you that gentle and soft caress on your cheek… the one he’d give you when you were both lying around together. You missed the look in his eyes when he’d listen to you talk about something you were excited about. Nothing made you happier than to see those gorgeous blue eyes, it always made your heart melt into a million pieces… and now the sight of them sent a shudder of fear down your entire being.

It was terrifying to know that what would come next was pain.

You missed it when he’d softly brush your skin before biting down, and how he’d kiss you…

Nothing felt more wonderful than to kiss him tenderly, especially to wake him up… to hear his soft chuckle when he’d realized what you were doing.

You missed it, all of it. You missed him.

The man you once knew was gone… and it was a matter of time before you’d realize that…

The door slammed open with a force you recognized. Shu walked in, his earphones in his ears like usual as he walked to you, his eyes reminding you of ice now. He was cold and heartless as he gripped the hair at your crown and yanked it back, exposing your neck to him as he bent down.

His teeth sunk in, a painful sting shooting through your nerves. It wasn’t familiar, this feeling… only something recent, but his fangs use to make you feel the very opposite. His touch and his fangs used to be something you’d seek out, skipping classes and sneaking out of anything unrelated to him to go find him. You were attracted to him like a magnet, and yet… in the end, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Did you miss me?” His voice was something of a more gentle tone than his — now — usual one.

Something was wrong, because if he’d said the words even a day before, you wouldn’t have hesitated to respond, and yet, you didn’t answer.

He frowned now, displeased by your refusal. He bit down on your skin harsher than before, waiting for that same wince he’d gotten just yesterday from you, but nothing came.

Your eyes didn’t move from their spot on his shoulder, and it was strange… You could feel the pain he gave you, but you couldn’t feel it. It was almost as though your body could, but your mind couldn’t, and for a moment, things felt a bit peaceful.

Things were perfect now, right?

This could all work. Shu could do as he pleased and you could stay like this… like what felt like… a million miles away from him, from what he was doing to you…

In a way it made you pleased, but you couldn’t even feel that. You felt nothing.

And it didn’t bother you.

Shu stood up, winding his arm back as the back of his hand made contact with your cheek, and nothing left your mouth. Your throat could finally become better now, it could heal.

This was good, right?

Shu clenched his fists, taking a step closer, his eyes watching you with an intent he hadn’t for a long time.

You didn’t flinch.

You weren’t doing anything.

He could hear your heartbeat, so what was this?

He lifted your face up to meet his, and he saw what you’d been feeling; nothing. Your eyes looked right past him, like he wasn’t even there. The conclusion alone had his emotions spike to anger, and he grabbed your throat tightly, looking between your eyes for any response.

Nothing.

Shu’s grip faltered, like something had clicked in his brain.

“Hey,” he said more gently than usual, gulping as he waited for a response. “Answer me,” he said sternly, catching himself and softening his tone in the slightest.

Your heart was beating slowly, almost too slow for the rate it needed to work for the lack of blood in your system.

Shu let go of your throat and took off his earphones, kneeling in front of you, a panic in his voice now. “Hey! Why won’t you answer me?” his voice broke at the end, and the tears in his eyes began to flow.

It was a strange sight to see, Shu crying, and yet… it was almost like none of it was happening. You weren’t there.

You weren’t there…

Shu wiped his tears and held your face gently between his palms, a touch he’d kept from you for months. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones, and if he’d only given you this same touch a day ago… you may have melted at his fingertips.

Perhaps you’d have even looked at him as if he’d never done you any wrong. You would’ve reassured him with all your heart that you were his, that you wanted him just as much…

You would have forgiven him in a heartbeat.

His forehead pressed against yours, looking into your eyes and looking for the girl he’d lost slowly without even realizing. His breathing quickened and his arms slid around your waist.

You would’ve given anything to have been held like that again, and now that he had, you couldn’t feel a thing.

Shu hugged you tightly to his chest, gently and with the loving embrace he used to give you… it was everything you had ever wanted… everything you begged for so desperately at the beginning of all this.

You remembered your pleas, and your screams, and your confessions of undying love for him. You remembered it all, and it was only now he was realizing what he’d lost.

A love he would never have again…

Why did it have to take losing you for him to realize how simple your love was? Could he not tell from the way you looked at him adoringly? Or the way your eyes would look so in love simply from the thought of him?

Why couldn’t he love you right the first time?

#request #Shu Sakamaki #Sakamaki Shu #Shuu Sakamaki #Sakamaki Shuu #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers shu #diabolik lovers fanfiction #dialovers #oneshot #fanfic #OftoFa

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elsweetheart · 1 year

Note

OK MAYBE A BRATTY!READER WHOS PUSHING BUTTONS N TESTING THE LIMITS N IS JUST ASKING TO BE PUT IN CHECK

n then we have brat-tamer!ellie/abby …. whichever u prefer

👹👹

ok let’s get into it bestie …..

🎀 warning: abby spanks reader like once. abby gets all mean at the end bc reader is a brat. she also has reader pinned in a position and ik some ppl don’t like that. wrote this in my old kinda format cos apparently ppl miss it

• so you’re laying in bed, and abby just arrived home from an early patrol, taking the shift that no one had wanted.

• it’s one of those days where the two of you don’t have many responsibilities that day so you can just be with eachother after a long and stressful week.

• you’d felt a little on edge this week, worries and anxieties creeping up on you and abby had barely been able to tend to your every need like usual because she was so busy making sure everything else was in check. you understood, of course— but your brat senses were tingling and you felt yourself beginning to need a release.

• this was expected from you — and abby could see it coming from a mile away. you’d be fidgety throughout the week, and she’d have to reprimand you a little to get you to listen to her which apparently, only spurred you on to act up more. you’d talk back, straying from your usual good girl ways, and you overall would start digging yourself deeper into a hole of misbehaviour.

• it had been ten minutes since she’d returned, and you had already pushed her buttons in more ways than one. you didn’t greet her at the door with a kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist like you usually did — which she could forgive if you were still in bed, as it was an early start. but you were awake, sitting up in the bed wearing her T-shirt and your panties, one sock on your foot from the restless sleep and hair a little out of place. she thought you looked cute until you opened your mouth.

• “took you long enough. you better not go anywhere else today.” you pout with a frown as she walked over to the dresser, removing her gun from her person and unloading it, toned back facing away from you.

• “watch the attitude, yeah? thought you’d be more happy to see me.” she looked over her shoulder at you, having the grace to keep her voice and expression gentle because she didn’t quite know what your deal was. you really wanted to touch her, smush yourself right up against her strong body and have her squeeze the stress out of you— but you couldn’t. you just couldn’t wind down.

• she thought you might listen as you fell silent for a moment, watching her as she unpacked her belongings from her trip. she restart the conversation, giving you another chance. “are we gonna be productive today? maybe i can help you at the gym again.” she suggested, remembering that you enjoyed it last time — telling her that it helped you get your frustration out.

• instead, you groaned— flopping onto your back staring at the ceiling. “i’m not doing that.” you refused making her nod slowly as if to say ‘okay, so we’re doing this.’ you watched her braid bob with the movement and you resisted the urge to sit up and lightly yank it.

• abby sighed out her nose, turning around to look at you and she crossed her thick arms over her chest, the muscles in them engorged even more than usual from exerting them on her patrol. “is something wrong? giving you a chance to speak up here.” her expression was kind, yet stern — despite her words clearly being a not so thinly veiled threat.

• you didn’t answer, staring back up at the ceiling again. she watched you for a moment, before grabbing her towel — heading to go have a shower so that she could come back clean, get in the bed and pull a good mood out of you like she knew she could. maybe you just needed to rant, or cuddle, or kiss. she was removing herself briefly from the situation, determined not to let you get under her skin.

• “ugh, where are you going abby.” you complained, bad attitude laced through your words as she stepped towards the door. she stopped, and you missed the way her back tensed and she rolled her neck in irritation — too busy rolling your eyes back into your head, grumpy as ever. within a moment, abby had walked over to the bed— dropping her weight on it as she knelt, sitting on her feet. her strong hands forced their way to your waist, flipping you onto your stomach making you yelp. you bounced on the bed once at the sheer force of the turnover and she yanked you back, your body sliding up so that your hips were elevated onto her lap, back arched.

• abby spanked you just once, fist curling into her tshirt that you wore to keep you still when you tried to squirm away with a defiant whine. “when have i ever let you talk to me like that, hm?” she slapped your ass again, hating how much the jiggle of it turned her on as you jolted with a whimper at the pain.

• “what’re you g’nna do about it?” you used up the last of your confidence, voice muffled into the pillow. abby went quiet, hand slipping between your legs that were forced open on her lap. her fingers nimbly pushed your panties to the side, shaking her head to no one but herself when she slid her fingers through the large quantity of arousal coating you. “got yourself all worked up when you could’ve just asked. you know how this works.” her strict tone made you falter, whining as you felt the tears spring to your eyes.

• “m’sorry.” you whimpered, suddenly apologetic — which almost made her chuckle, instead letting out a near bitter scoff. when she removed her fingers you reached back with your arm, trying to frantically grab at her to make her put them back. she pinned your arm to the small of your back putting her weight on it so that you couldn’t move. you cried in frustration, hips grinding against her lap trying to find friction.

• “you’re always sorry. always wanna be a good girl when i start teaching you a lesson.” her voice was so smooth and sultry and abby, and by this point you were regretting acting up all together. you tried to explain yourself, tried to make her see that you could be good with your words, but all that came out with stuttered nonsense.

• “no, it’s your turn to be quiet. you’re gonna take what i give you, and you’re gonna keep taking it til’ i think you’ve turned it around. okay?” she sounded mad, weight still pressing you down on the bed — and that’s when she felt your spine relax, melting into the bed as that submissive mindset took over. this was what you needed.

#whore-era #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson prompt #abby anderson hcs

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cazzyf1 · 3 months

Text

Quotes about the 1982 Drivers Strike that I found funny/interesting (from a pdf of a book I accidentally downloaded)

So, if you haven't seen from my Twitter stream this morning when trying to research something about Niki Lauda for a friend, I came across a pdf link. Thinking it would just be a small article potentially with the answer I was looking for, I downloaded it. I did not notice the fact that it was 154 pages... to my surprise; it turned out to be a whole book about the 1982 season, specifically focusing on Keke Rosberg.

I've read through the chapter about the driver's strike and taken down some quotes that I found interesting. There isn't a lot of detail into what they all got up to that isn't already known, but there is a lot of useful information. Hope you enjoy :)

'You might imagine all this was just like every season, but 1982 was already very different. The Rat, you see, had smelt a rat.'

'Herr Andres Nikolaus Lauda of Vienna had furtive eyes which didn't miss much and a suspicious mind. On 24th December 1981, he sniffed the form from Paris the postman had just delivered and didn't like it at all.'

'The form was the product of events in 1981 when Prost, making his debut in Grand Prix racing with Mclaren, became convinced the car was not safe and refused to drive for the team again regardless of the fact he had a contract to do so. Prost told Teddy Mayer that, if necessary, he would simply walk away from motor sport altogether. Renault approached Prost, he joined them, and Mayer (by training a lawyer) discovered how problematic the law was if you tried to prevent someone from gaining their livelihood. The super licence form represented an attempt to prevent such situation recurring.'

'Lauda claims Pironi made phone calls and was able to prevent 'most of the other drivers' from signing, but in fact 24 did, leaving six refuseniks: Pironi himself, Lauda of course, Villeneuve - who had seen something similar in Canadian ice hockey and didn't like it - Arnoux, Giacomelli, and de Cesaris'

'I was just listening because Didier Pironi did all the talking,' Lauda would say. 'Didier completely unemotional. The important thing was to keep on talking.'

'At 7:00 on the Thursday morning a bus, arranged by GPDA secretary Trevor Rowe, drew up not far from the paddock entrance with Pironi and Lauda in it. Most of the drivers stayed at the nearby Kyalami Ranch Hotel and they'd be arriving early for a GPDA meeting before the hour-long practice session at 10:20. As each arrived they were invited to park their cars and get onto the bus. Mass didn't show up (He's always late' someone said) and Ickx refused. In fact, Mass had been staying with friends of his South African-born wife and so had been out of touch. He knew nothing about the bus but it wouldn't have made any difference.'

'The drivers were, as Lauda recounts is, going for a drive. With Lauda hanging out of the back waving, the bus set off, but as it left the bottom gate of the circuit John McDonald of the March team tried to block it. Laffite and some other drivers got out and pushed McDonald's car clear. Then the bus proceeded to the scenic route to Johannesburg some 15 miles away pursued by 'a whole convoy' of TV cameras, journalists and photographers. The bus went to the Sunnyside Park Hotel in the suburbs. It offered full amenities including a swimming pool.'

'At 10:19 the track opened for practice. The race organisers threatened to impound the cars if the race didn't happen and Ecclestone threatened the drivers that they would be sued for recompense if the cars were impounded. Throughout, Ecclestone adopted a hard line and at one point, in a remarkable interview questioned the value of drivers, "Nobody came up to me at Kyalami and asked where Jones or Andretti were. Already they're not missed. Why should any of the rest of them be missed? If it had suited Carlos not to come back, he wouldn't have given a stuff about F1 now, or whether the crowds came now or didn't. He couldn't give a dam if it suited him not to turn up. In the same way it suited Niki to walk out in the middle of a race. I think he said at the time 'I'm leaving because of policies, I just want to be a racing driver.' If you analyse it, the drivers just don't make any sense."'

'Pironi arrived from the circuit and explained that if they didn't return and drive immediately, they faced life bans. There seems to have been a distinctive mood at the hotel with very real concerns about what they were doing 'camouflaged by high jinks and laughter.' Lauda knew that the older drivers understood what the consequences might be. Ecclestone had already fired Piquet and Patrese. Lauda realised how difficult it was for the young drivers, facing the reaction of their sponsors. Lauda concluded that maintaining solidarity was crucial. Each driver had a great deal to lose.'

'At the Kyalami Ranch, during dinner, drivers' wives and girlfriends threw bread rolls and plates at Balestre.'

'The drivers in Hannesburg inhabited the conference room. "We ended up barricaded in it" Warwick says, "You know what was fantastic? I got to know my colleagues for the first time because, being a non-qualifier at the back of the grid, you don't get a chance to speak to the guys at the front. That was good. The other things that were massive when we were in that compound - we were there for 24 hours - was Bruno Giacomelli standing with a chart and dissecting an AK47 machine gun. He drew these magnificent drawings of how to take the gun to bits and so on. It was very, very funny because in the normal Bruno Giacomelli way he was very, very funny anyway. I think it was a big shock for everybody in authority because they thought they could control the drivers but, to be quite honest, I don't know that half of them in the room knew what we were striking for." Lauda kept their spirits up by telling jokes and, a piano brought, Villeneuve played light music and de Angelis classical pieces. "What really blew me away," Warwick says, "was that we had a piano in the room and Elio de Angelis started playing it. Apparently, he could have been a concert pianist and it astonished me - the other talents that some of these guys had. Then Gilles played Scott Joplin.'

'Many remember the performance by de Angelis. "Believe it or not," Derek Daly says, "the most vivid memory I have of being stuck in the hotel was Elio de Angelis playing the piano like a concert pianist. Remarkable. Definitely, definitely that was a gift, a talent of his.' Jarier points out that "it was a big room and Elio de Angelis played classical music and Gilles played. Very sympa. In that era virtually all the drivers stayed in the same hotels - Kyalami Ranch in South America, the Glen Motorhome in Watkins Glen and so on. A formula one team was 15, 20 people. There were far few journalists, far fewer television people and everybody knew each other." In other words, many of the drivers in the big room were not strangers to each other, however much those at the back of the grid had to be. Alex Hawkridge arrived to try and reach Fabi and Warwick. Fabi was easy to reach because, as it seems, he was already staying in the hotel and had his own room. "Teo we didn't threaten as such, we told him he was contracted to drive. He came out and I was able to speak to him. We reminded him he had signed a contract to drive, and the idea of solidarity wouldn't help him if he was without a drive and think where his best interest lay. Elio was playing the piano - astonishing - and I could hear him. He was a proper concert pianist.'

'The room was barricaded. An associate of mine pushed the door open and shouted their names, "Come and talk to us and we'll resolve this" Of course, as happens when you do that, someone pushed the other way and there was a bit of a pushing and shoving session - by a friend of mine called Douglas Norden, who is known to be a little aggressive when challenged. He was nothing to do with the team, just a friend along trying to help and it turned into a bit of a scuffle, the the door shut." Niki and the others saw it as a further restriction on the drivers' power and they wanted to stop it, and that is always the difficulty with change, isn't it? We were to have another example at Imola when the FOCA went on strike against the FIA. Through the history of human struggle there have been instances involving union. Lauda made sure the piano blocked the door so there would be no further scuffles, giving the police reason to enter. Mo Nunn at the Ensign tried to get Guerrero to come out by taking his girlfriend. When they saw each other they dissolved into tears and Lauda allowed him out to see her providing he - Lauda - came too. Jean Sage of Renault tried to get Prost and Arnoux but was beaten off.'

'The drivers ordered a room big enough to put 30 mattresses onto the carpet - that provoked prolonged ribaldry. At 11:00 pm they moved from the conference room to this dormitory and settled down for the night, having worked out an elaborate way of getting to the toilet across the hallway. It was conducted on the honour system with a key on a plate in the middle of the room. Lauda would remember, "I was sharing a bed with Patrese, someone next to Rosberg was snoring until Villeneuve put a blanket over him in the middle of the night, but all the time we stood together." Warwick would remember, "The drivers spent time with me and we spent a lot of time together - I was sleeping with them, exactly, yes! I haven't slept on the same mattress as Carlos Reutemann ever since, mind you..." To which Derek Daly says, "The funny thing is think I was on the other side because I have a picture of me beside Reutemann. I don't know if he snored. I do think he was still dressed in his driver's suit." Pironi said at the time, "We will see it through, FISA had too much to lose to let the Grand Prix be called off. I'm confident they will relent." "We'd had a lot of pressure because you had people like Jackie Oliver and Alex Hawkridge coming to the hotel," Warwick says, "We were threatened with our jobs if you don't get back there and that, of course, if why Fabi crawled out of the toilet window. He was the only one who broke ranks. He did the dirty on me. Everybody said they understood if I had to go back, I was explaining to people like Lauda, 'It's okay for you guys, you're going to have a job , you're some of the best drivers around but I'm the new kid on the block, my team mate's just jumped ship and I am very vulnerable' and every one of them said, 'We guarantee you will not be fired' In other words, if one is fired everyone goes. That gave me a little bit more confidence to stay there."'

'"It wasn't the strike which made me say, I don't want Formula One," Tambay says, "I enjoyed the strike! It was the best time I ever had with all my friends, although it was a very costly reunion with them. WHat I didn't like was Teo Fabi sneaking out behind our backs to try and get back into the car, and what I didn't like was that I knew we had been screwed - they (Balestre & co) had said "Come back out to the circuit and everything's going to be all right" and I knew we were all screwed"'

'And there, grinning broadly (he usually did), stood the strong, square figure of Brian Henton - available for selection as of this second, Jackie Oliver gave Henton the Tambay drive, but that morning, Henton became embroiled in a tug-of-war between the arrows management and Herr Lauda. Arrows 'were bollocking me saying "Get in the car" and all the rest of it' Henton remembers, 'And I am just about to go out for practice and they needed my signature on their petition. I'd got the team shouting in one ear "Get in that car and get out there" and, just as I am sitting Niki Lauda - who been massaging me all the time and I'd been saying "No, no, no" - rushes up with this petition, he 'hit' me at the right time, "Just sign this, sign it, sign it" I thought I only want to get out onto the track.'

'Lauda records how, throughout the weekend, there had been rumours that once the drivers reached the airport to fly home they would be arrested, although on what grounds it is difficult to say, what happened was quite different. During the race the stewards issued a statement given to each team, saying the drivers Super Licences were being suspended. Three drivers, Fabi, Mass and Henton - were spared: Fabi because he'd gone to the track prepared to drive, Mass because he had driven, and Henton because he got the Arrows drive after Tambay withdrew following the strike. Francis Tucker, steward of the South African Grand Prix, said, "For the purpose of running a race, a temporary truce, was called in the disagreement between the drivers and the officials. The truce lasted until the end of the race. At the end of the race, the truce agreement position was terminated. This means that the position which existed prior to the agreement is effectively reinstated.' The drivers were suspended immediately and each paid 300 Rand to appeal the decision. Fisa said they supported the suspensions and Executive Committee would meet in Paris on the following Thursday, January 27.'

And that is all that I took down about the Driver's Strike of 1982. I hope that it was an enjoyable read for everyone!

I feel a bit bad that I accidentally got a free copy of this book, given that the author I've read other books from and it one that I like a lot, and that when looking the book up, it is rather expensive. But these things accidentally happen, and anyone could accidentally look up this exact search on google: Niki Lauda "snored" - and then see the first link that is a pdf of 154 pages titled 1982, which then they could click and get the full copy of the book. These accidents happen. And it is always good to have a virus scanner to check any file you download just in case, my phone seems safe but it's better safe than sorry.

Enjoy :)

#classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #1982 drivers strike

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 3 months

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What if Quaritch tried as a last resort to regain custody and miraculously succeeded when Spider was 15? It's very, very unrealistic, but let's assume that if there was a change of judge or he would be able to bribe someone. So he has legal custody, he can live with his son legally and not cut off from the world. How would everything go then? How would Spider react if he suddenly found out that after so many years of running away he was going to live with his father, what would their relationship be like then?

Oh I’ve got ideas for this so this is going to be a long one. It became a whole au in my head.

So for starters i don’t think Quaritch getting custody back would be unrealistic. If you read the last chapter of cabin Quaritch showed Spider that his court ordered therapist was Max Patel. That would be a huge conflict of interest so with a good lawyer Quaritch could bring that to court and demand a re trial with a new judge.

I’ll change the Cabin timeline a little and say Spider was 14 when he started living with the Sully’s. He’s about to turn 15 when surprise the court gives his father back full custody. Spider tells the judge flat out he doesn’t want to live with him but the judge doesn’t care. The judge views what happened to Quaritch years ago as a miscarriage of justice that he is now correcting.

On moving day Spider runs away. Quaritch calls the cops on him to bring him to his new home. It’s definitely not a great start. His eyes are red and there’s dried tears on his face but Spider glares daggers at him no matter what Quaritch does and never says a word. That’s generally how things go every day for weeks, even on Spider’s birthday when Quaritch tried to throw him a party. Spider just looked at the set up and walked out, hiding in his room to FaceTime with Kiri and Lo’ak.

Quaritch refuses to call Spider by his chosen name and Spider refuses to call him dad. Spider ignores Quaritch if he calls him Miles or Junior. Quaritch does the same when Spider calls him old man. Spider used to call him a fucking bastard ass old man but that got him grounded, so Spider stopped. He didn’t want to be forced to stay in that house any longer then he had to.

Luckily for Spider he didn’t have to change schools in the middle of the year. Neytiri raised hell to get him enrolled in the same private school as the Sully’s and he loves it there. Coincidently it’s the exact school Quaritch would have sent him to if given a choice so he approves. Unfortunately their house is to far out for a bus to pick him up so Spider’s old man has to drop him off and pick him up everyday. Quaritch purposely tries to embarrass him by shouting “bye son I love you!” Spider slams the door and yells “I fucking hate you get out of here!”

Spider’s first week of school after moving in with his dad, he decided to fuck with Quaritch by not telling him about his after school clubs. After ten minutes of waiting Quaritch started to blow up Spider’s phone with calls and texts. Spider had his phone on silent and didn’t even notice. After another ten minutes Quaritch stormed into the school shouting Spider’s given name through the halls for everyone to hear. Spider pops out of the art room looking mortified. “What are you doing.” Quaritch who was terrified answers, “lookin’ for you a ‘course! Y’a couldn’t have told me you were in a club! Y’a didn’t answer your phone. I was worried sick!” The worse part for Spider wasn’t that he got yelled at in front of his classmates. It was that he could tell just how concerned his father had been over him and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. After that Spider always tells Quaritch about his after school activities.

Months go by. Spider slightly warms up to his dad but he’s still super standoffish. He goes over to the Sully’s house every chance he gets. Quaritch hates it. He won’t let Spider spend the night there or even eat dinner with the Sully’s because of how jealous he is. And Spider gets so angry every time Quaritch shows up to collect him, fighting to stay, arguing all the way home, running off to his room slamming the door behind him. It makes Quaritch think that maybe - it’s time they move.

Quaritch asks Spider, “what do y’a think of taken a little road trip this summer? We could get a camper van. go to all the national parks, see some big landmarks..

“I’m good.” Spider doesn’t want to spend his summer locked in a van with his father far away from the Sullys.

“Well too damn bad then ‘cause that’s what we’re doin’.” It’s a huge fight between them for weeks. Spider runs off the day he gets home and sees their shiny new camper van in the driveway. Quaritch hunts him down dragging him back kicking and screaming. Spider refuses to pack as their departure date draws closer. Quaritch does it all for him while he’s at school with Spider coming home to a near empty room, a room so empty it looked like they were moving completely and not just going on vacation. Spider brushes it off as one of his father’s punishments.

Spider is told that they’ll be leaving a few days after school lets out. So he’s completely shocked to see his father waiting for him in their usual pick up spot, driving the camper van. “You told me we were leaving in a few days!” Quaritch just shrugs, “I did. But then I got to thinkin’ what are we waitin’ for! We hit the road now we can be across state lines by dinner.” “But the Sully’s are having a party to celebrate the end of the semester! Grandma Mo’at finally back and I haven’t gotten to see her yet, and I haven’t even said goodbye to my friends!” Quaritch waves him off, “that’s what phones are for. Now get in before I put you in.”

The trip starts off very tense. Spider won’t speak to him at all, but he will have very pointed very loud phone conversations with Kiri and Lo’ak just trash talking Quaritch the entire time. Quaritch turns his dad rock up as high as the stereo will go, making Spider have to shout. When they finally stop for the night they have a quiet agitated dinner outside. Spider is so tired from it all that he’s falling asleep sitting up. Quaritch takes the opportunity to swipe his phone. After Spider goes to bed Quaritch chucks it in the river. Spider notices it’s gone when he wakes up the next morning. Unfortunately for him Quaritch had already been driving for hours. “I can’t find my phone. I think I dropped it outside last night.” “Well what do y’a want me to do about it?” “Turn around!” “Pff, i’m not wastin’ time ‘cause your irresponsible. Now sit down and go eat breakfast or something.”

Spider is pissed but at least he has his laptop he thinks as he starts looking through his stuff. Only to not find it anywhere. “Where’s my laptop.” “How should I know.” “You packed all my shit!” “Yeah well if y’a wanted it so badly y’a should have packed it yourself!” Quaritch in fact left his laptop behind on purpose. Now Spider has no way of contacting the Sully’s.

Spider tries his best to act like he’s completely miserable, but he can’t pretend for long. He hates to admit it but him and his dad have similar ideas of fun, spending days camping and exploring national parks, doing things like zip lining, and exploring caves. They do more touristy things too, like visiting museums (Quaritch loves history museums while Spider prefers art museums) and major landmarks (though they both agree to go early as possible to avoid the crowds at all cost). Early on Spider gets the idea to send the Sully’s postcards so they at least know he’s okay. He has to sneak away from Quaritch to mail them but luckily public mailboxs are pretty easy to come by. It helps him feel better about everything and gradually he actually starts to bond with his dad to the point where it starts to feel like they’re a completely normal father and son.

The summer starts to draw to an end. Spider has been happy with his dad but he’s eager to get home and see the Sully’s. He misses them so much. Plus traveling is exhausting. He can’t wait to sleep in a bed that doesn’t change states ever few days. Spider expects that they’ll turn around soon because they keep going west when they live on the east coast. He’s about to question Quaritch about it when they reach Wyoming. Nothing interesting is in Wyoming so why are they here? They pass by nothing but farmland for hours until finally they pull off the road eventually coming to a small farm. It looks really nice, rustic and inviting. When they stop a bald man, who Quaritch introduces as Spider’s uncle Lyle, greats them at the door along with a boarder collie that races right up to Spider jumping all over him in excitement. Spider instantly loves the pup who he’s told is named Cupcake.

Lyle gives them the grand tour. The farm grows tons of different fruits and vegetables. There a dairy cow grazing in a field, chickens scurrying about in a large fenced in patch of grass, two horses - a father and his son - chilling in the barn, and a barn cat that catches mice. Spider also instantly falls in love with the cat picking him up and cradling him. Spider likes the farm a lot. It’s peaceful. At dinner Spider says, “this is a really nice place Lyle.” “Glad you like.” He says smirking. “By the way cap, I’m gonna head out at five tomorrow morning. I want to get back home in time for my daughter’s first day of school.” Spider gives him a questioning look, “isn’t this your home?” Lyle laughs in his face, “no it’s your home.” He might as well have slapped him. He turns to Quaritch, “what is he talking about?”

Quaritch sighs, “I got a job offer.” “What do you need a job for! I thought you were fucking loaded from all the settlement money the courts gave you!” “I am. But do y’a know how boring it is being a stay at home dad…”. “Oh boohoo get a job as a Walmart greeter like all the other retirees. You fucking planned this all summer - hell before that even, and you never thought to tell me!” “Hell no! I wanted us to enjoy our summer together..” “fuck you! This..this is fucking kidnapping.” “Pff..stop being so dramatic. We just moved that’s all.” “And you fucking lied about it!” Spider runs from the table not able to stand the sight of his father any longer.

Days later when Quaritch finally catches Spider as he’s trying to sneak down to the kitchen, he explains what going to happen. He was offered a job (a lie. He applied for it) as vice principal at Mercer’s Military Academy. It’s a semi-boarding school twenty minutes away. And Spider’s the school’s newest student. He flips his shit, “a fucking military academy! Why can’t I just go to the nearest public school!” “Because it’s an hour and half away! Plus you get free tuition as my son.” “I’m not fucking going.” “Yes you are.” “You can’t make me!” “Yes I can!” “I’m going to get myself expelled on the fist day!” Quaritch laughs, “good luck with that.”

At some point in Spider’s brooding Quaritch tosses his new schools rule book into his room. Spider reads it to get ideas for how to raise hell. Of course he’ll be breaking all the dress code rules which go on at length about the exact why he’s supposed to wear his uniform (neat at all times, no customizations no rips or tears) and the strict guidelines for how he’s supposed to wear his hair (for boys it’s a tapered style of any kind as long it doesn’t touch his ears or the top of his collar). He will definitely be disrespecting every adult, especially his father. He can’t wait to embarrass him so bad he regrets the day he reapplied for custody. Maybe he’ll start a food fight. Maybe he’ll find the school bully and start a real fight. Hell if they deserve it maybe he’ll hit a teacher. Or just his dad. He really wants to punch his dad.

The weekend before the start of school Quaritch takes him into town- which is a whole two hours away- to get his new uniform. Spider is uncooperative as ever, refusing to stand still to get his measurements taken to the point where Quaritch has to hold him in place. After hours of wrestling with his son an exhausted Quaritch pays for the uniforms. The store manager who is equally tired looks at the disgruntled teen and say to Quaritch, “I see why you choose military school.” Spider hears and storms out.

He’s expecting to go home now but instead Quaritch parks the car in front of a barber shop. “I don’t know why your stopping here because I’m sure as hell not getting out.” Quaritch turns to look at him his rage palpable. “Now you listen here. Y’a have some grand idea of gettin’ expelled, but that ain’t gonna happen. Mercer loves a challenge. He loves taking disrespectful, unruly, feral little monsters like you and breaking them to pieces. And the harder you make that, the more fun he’ll have. So I suggest you march in there right now, pick a haircut you can live with,then Sunday night you shine your shoes, iron your uniform and get your tie ready. Or else Monday morning when you walk through those doors lookin’ like your little punk ass self, Mercer will drag you to his office and after that…well choices have consequences.” Spider bristles under the warning but doesn’t break. “I’ll take my chances.” “Fine,” Quaritch says throwing the car in reverse, “I warned y’a. just don’t come crying to me.”

Monday morning Spider does his hair in intricate braids, wears his most ripped frayed pair of jeans, dirtiest sneakers, and a band t-shirt that would definitely get him called a satanist by a pearl clutching old lady. He’s beaming with confidence as he walks into the kitchen. Quaritch eyes him over his newspaper and just shakes his head. Before they leave he puts Spider’s uniform in a plastic bag knowing he’ll need it for later.

You already know what’s coming. Mercer drags Spider into his office on sight. In the office two muscler upperclassman are standing at attention waiting for orders. Mercer tries to verbally intimidate Spider. Spider just cusses up a storm instead. For that he gets grabbed by the upperclassman and bent over Mercer’s desk for some corporal punishment with a wooden paddle. It doesn’t end until he’s a sobbing mess. Then Mercer breaks out the clippers. There’s a guard on them leaving Spider with about an inch of length all around. Mercer doesn’t bother to undo his braids. They all come off in one piece and Mercer seems to take pleaser in waving them in his face taunting him over the “savage” style. Then he’s made to change into his uniform. Spider’s glassy eyed and numb by this point. Mercer and his goons don’t give him the courtesy of turning around, making Spider feel even more vulnerable then he already did. the last piece of his uniform is his tie but he doesn’t know how to knot it. Mercer laughs at him throwing it in his face. “Go find your father. He’ll show you.”

Spider’s in a daze as he stumbles around the halls completely shell shocked. He sees the back of Quaritch as he’s monitoring the halls for anyone out of class. “Da..dad,” Spider calls weakly. Quaritch whips around. It’s the first time Spider has ever called him dad and he is momentarily thrilled before he looks at his son. Quaritch is instantly filled with overwhelming guilt as he takes in his child. “I…I need help…I…I can’t tie my tie.” Spider hold it up like he’s a small child with a broken toy.

Quaritch ushers him into an unused classroom. “What happened,” he asks cupping Spider’s face to make him look up. Spider shakes his head before bursting into tears. Quaritch pulls him into a hug. “How could you do this to me! I was starting to trust you! I actually thought we could be happy! Why did you lie to me! How could you bring me here!” “I’m sorry,” is all Quaritch can say, over and over again. When Spider’s cries finally quiet Quaritch says, “all I ever wanted was to be a family again. I love you more then anything in this whole world. Not a day went by when I didn’t worry about y’a. I couldn’t know if you were safe, if you were healthy, if you were happy. It was torture. I was so relieved to get you back. But y’a wouldn’t even give me a chance. You hated me from the jump. Y’a just ran off to be with the Sully’s every day.” Spider and Quaritch are still hugging but Spider can hear that his dad is crying. “I’m big enough of a man to admit that I was jealous. And it hurt to have you constantly running away from me. But I was selfish to do all this to you.” They stay in their hug for a little while longer until they both feel the weight of time on them. They break apart, and wipe their eyes. Quaritch ties Spider’s tie for him. “We’ll talk more about this tonight okay. For now y’a got to get to class.”

Spider floats through the morning too emotionally drained from everything. At lunch he doesn’t really have an appetite but goes through the motions anyway. It’s when he’s walking the room, looking for a place to sit that he spots a group of five kids sitting in the farthest corner of the room. Spider instantly recognizes the tell tail features of the Na’vi. He races to sit with them happily greeting them with Oel Ngati Kameie.

Hope you enjoyed. I definitely have ideas for a part two so let me know if your interested in that 💙

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #john mercer

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marshmallow-phd · 2 months

Text

A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won't let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4

The fever took over almost as soon as you left the bathroom. Your feet had become heavier, like lead refusing to be moved. Your vision went black before you made it to the bed. Consciousness came and went, images you weren't sure were real or not blurred your vision. A man wiped your forehead with a cloth. Another fed you salty broth. Two more held you upright as someone changed the sweat-soaked pillowcase. The last image you remember was the lingering presence of someone near the doorway. All you could register was his short black hair and white tunic. He turned from the bed and walked out of the room as you fell back asleep.

*****

A long groan rumbled your throat as your eyes blinked open. The fever that had consumed your body was gone. Your rough tongue scraped the roof of a mouth desperate for moisture. Every limb was sore from not being used. A small pain still pushed at your head, but it was bearable. Only a small measure of light broke the edges of the curtain. It was either barely dawn or the very end of twilight.

"It would seem you're past the worst of it."

You gasped at the unexpected voice. Junmyeon emerged from the shadows and stood at the edge of the bed. He tilted his head, the upper half of his face still cloaked in the darkness.

"I was sick," you stated to no one in particular. Perhaps in mere confirmation for yourself.

Junmyeon nodded. "You had a fever for two days".

"Two days!" you gasped. You were supposed to arrive to your aunt today. If you didn't show–

An echoing thud interrupted your thoughts. You sat up slowly, groaning at the protest of your arms and torso. Junmyeon kicked the familiar chest on the floor again. Excitement pushed away all remaining consequences of the fever. It was your trunk with all your things. Soon, you could be on your way again, with a harrowing tale for your worried relative.

"We found it this morning," he explained. "Along with the driver."

Your heart leapt. "He's–"

"Dead. Probably broke his neck from the fall." His voice was void of empathy. Death–at least the kind not directly in contact with himself–did not affect him. "The carriage isn't salvageable. and the roads are still practically swamps.”

Each breath you took in came faster and faster, more shallow than the last. How could the roads still be unfit for travel? The room began to tilt. "So, what does that mean for me?" Perhaps you would have to wait for a replacement carriage or for your aunt to come get you herself.

He looked to the door with a resigned expression. "You will stay here until we deem fit."

"What!" You scrambled out of the bed. Your knees buckled as soon you feet touched the rug. Going so long without proper nutrition and being sick with fever left you weak. Junmyan caught before you could be injured, sweeping you up into his arms. A mild shiver chattered your teeth. Through your thin nightgown you could feel the icy chill of his fingers. How one's skin could be the temperature of snow, you didn't know.

He laid you back down on the bed with a rather smug expression. "Traveling isn't in your best interest. You need to regain your strength."

You swallowed thickly. "And after that?"

The only answer you received was a smile.

"You can't keep me here!"

"Eat," he ordered, gesturing to the small table in the corner. A silver tray with fresh morsels sat and waited to be consumed. "You're free to roam the manor as you choose, but remember: there is nothing for miles, not even an inn. You'll meet a hungry wolf before coming across another human." He bowed as if he were a gentleman and left you alone to accept your circumstances.

*****

A small amount of strength returned to you after eating. Although fasting in protest could have been effective, you pathetically couldn't resist. Food had always been a favorite weakness of yours.

The next form of protest you tried was keeping to your room. But after a few hours of not a footstep outside, you concluded self-confinement was only useful if someone noticed.

From your trunk you pulled one of the more plain dresses that had been packed for you. It wasn't too difficult to dress yourself. The true trouble came for your hair. Despite being in bed for several days, no knots caused you pain. That, however, was the extent of your talent. Charlotte, your maid, had been the one to curl and pin your hair in the latest fashions. The best you could do was tie it back with a plain blue ribbon. Squaring your shoulders, you yanked the door open with force and shelled out of the room.

Up and down the different halls, you tried to make sense of the layout. This manor expanded in nearly every direction. You went upstairs and down again, unsure of where you were. The bit of light that managed to fight past the thick curtains that hung in front of every window grew in strength. But though the day grew older, you saw none of the residents. No sound alerted you to any being close. It gave you an eerie feeling. It was as if you were alone but an ever lingering presence haunted every corner.

You took another random left turn. And stopped.

The front door was just on the other side of this hall. You scanned the area around you. Your ears strained to hear anyone that could possibly be near. Not even a bird sang outside. You took a step. Then another. And another. One at a time, you paused between each step, waiting for one of the lords to suddenly appear and drag you back to your room.

Huh. Your room. As if your stay here would be forever permanent. You prayed that they would soon grow bored of you and send you on your way. All this could be was a terrible joke because they had no other way to occupy their time.

You'd reached the door. Possible freedom lied on the other side. Yet, your fingers hovered above the handle. Junmyeon's warning waded through your mind like a morning fog. Nothing for miles. Surely if that was true, the driver would have stopped rather than continue on in the storm.

And then there were the wolves. You knew of their existence. And how a human could be just as satisfactory as elk if they thought they could overpower whoever they came across. To them, you would certainly make easy prey.

"Doors only move when one opens them."

With a shrill gasp, you whirled around and pressed your back against the door. The one who drew your bath last night–Jongdae–was leaning against the entrance to the side parlor. He stared at you with a bored expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Where did you come from?" you demanded. You had looked in the parlor as you passed. No one was in there.

He waved an uncaring hand in the air. "Around. I heard you walking and when it stopped, I came to see why.”

"You heard me walking?" You'd put slippers on before leaving the room since your boots were still caked with mud. You could hardly hear your own steps against the wood boards.

Jongdae merely raised an eyebrow, refusing to explain. You huffed. The previous fright in you disappeared. Pushing off of the door, you shuffle past him and into the parlor. Your feet were beginning to pulse after walking around for hours. You sat in one of the cushioned chairs to give them some relief.

Before you could blink, Jongdae was seated in the chair across from you.

"How did you do that?”

Smug, he leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Would you like a tour?"

"Not if you refuse to answer my questions," you scoffed.

The corners of his lips curled upward. "I think it might be better if you figure it out for yourself. Over time."

That earned another huff. You especially disliked the insinuation that you would be here for a long while. Hope still flickered in you like a warm ember, desperate for fuel.

Jongdae stared at you quizzically. "Why didn’t you run?”

"Because, there isn't anywhere to run to," you answered quietly. You were lucky to make it here in the first place. Regardless if you were imprisoned or not, you were thankful to be alive.

Still eyeing you with that studious share, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. "Is there another reason you don't want to leave?"

You swallowed thickly. It was impossible for him to read your thoughts. He couldn't possibly know that something else held you back. "It's safe here–”

"We both know this place isn't safe for you," he snapped. "Your instinct should be to run as far as you can.”

"B-but the wolves..." your voice trailed off, overshadowed by the thumping of your heart.

"The wolves are nothing compared to here." He stood and all seriousness melted away as he stretched his limbs. "Or maybe they aren't. Perhaps that simply depends on you." You flinched as he reached for you. He didn't pause and his fingers passed your face, instead pulling at the ribbon in your hair until it came loose and dropped the fabric in your lap. "I wouldn't wear your hair like that.

You frowned at him. The men here weren't exactly the epitome of current style. "Why?"

“Keep pulling it back like that and you'll have your answer." He dared to wink at you before strolling from the parlor.

It took a little while to find your room again. Part of you wondered if you should have accepted Jongdae's offer of a tour. Another part stubbornly insisted you would find your own way eventually.

Sitting down at the small table, you pulled the curtain back. Your room was on the second floor, which gave you a decent view of the grounds.

Unlike most of the forest you remember seeing, this area was void of life. The trees were bare, their branches rigid and spindly. No birds or other woodland creatures scurried about. There was plenty of grass and garden hedges, but somehow all of the beauty was sapped from their blades and leaves. A few stone benches and structures were scattered about the estate, but whatever stunning carvings they used to present had been worn away. A sadness had overtaken this land, infected its very core. Not even the sunlight–now making its way to the other horizon–felt warm. How could anyone live amongst this?

All your strength gained through breakfast waned. You didn’t need sleep, per se, but rest wasn’t a terrible idea. Leaning back, you tucked your feet under you and shuffled into the corner of the chair. Your eyes slowly closed–

And snapped open at the soft knock from the door. You scowled at the door. It replied with another knock. With a huff, you stood and crossed the room, pulling the door open with force. "Yes?"

Junmyeon smirked at your hostility. "It's time for dinner."

You looked down, but his hands were empty. No new silver tray in sight.

"Dinner is with us."

Your throat tightened as his words sunk in. With them.

He motioned with his head. "Come."

"I have to change."

His eyes raked you up and down, then he raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Why? Because you always charged for dinner when you weren't dining with only your family. It simply wasn't proper to wear what you were tramping around in all day.

When you neither spoke nor moved, he reached behind you and pulled the door closed, pushing you out of the room and into his chest. He chuckled at the contact. You shoved him away. His amusement didn't waver. "The dining hall is this way."

Understanding that the only way you would eat was by following him, you complied. He led you to one of the familiar staircases, but then down a hallway you didn't recognize. The dining hall sat on the other end. Past the grand entrance was a long, dark red table that ran the length of the room with the ability to seat at least twenty. An old chandelier hung from the ceiling, a few of the precious crystals missing. A roaring fire clicked and cracked on the opposite wall.

"You'll sit here." Junmyeon startled you as he pulled a chair just to the left of the head of the table. All the other available seats were occupied. With your chin held high, you accepted, letting him push the chair in. Then he sat at the head.

There were four chairs on each side of the banquet table, haphazardly spaced, and a lone chair at the other end. To your immediate right was the one named Yixing. He stared at you with narrowed, interested eyes that somehow made his already sharp features lethal. You dropped your gaze instantly, finally noticing the food in front of you. Your eyes lifted... no one else had a meal, only a goblet full of wine.

"Has everyone else eaten?"

"Mm," Junmyeon hummed over the rim of his glass. When the goblet left his mouth, a faint red smear remained behind. He licked his lips slowly to wipe it away. "We don't typically... eat dinner, but thought of it as an opportunity to introduce you.”

A few chuckles echoed around the room, but the joke was lost on you.

"Eat," Junmyeon motioned to your plate. All eyes were trained on you. The silverware clinked and clattered as you picked up the fork and knife. Would the food be poisoned? Did they get some sick enjoyment from this? You cut off a small bite of chicken. Each bite was slow, testing the flavor. It wasn't beautifully seasoned, but you couldn't taste any bitter poison underneath. You swallowed and cut another bite.

Satisfied, Junmyeon motioned to the man on his right. "This is Jongin.”

"You have a pretty name," the man purred. You merely stared at him and continued to eat. He laughed from his chest. "Then Chanyeol." This one bowed in his chair with a flourish of his arm. "Jongdae." He winked. You scowled at him. "Sehun." This one didn't look at you, looking bored as he leaned back lazily in his chair, sipping from his glass. "Kyungsee at the end."

Kyungsoo, who had been staring at the table, his chin resting on folded fingers. He glanced at you but immediately looked away when he met your gaze.

"That one is Minseok," Junmyen went on. The one named Minseok smiled at you with an eerily feline grin. "Baekhyun." He, too, grinned at you in a way that sent a chill down your spine. "And next to you, I'm sure you remember, is Yixing."

You didn't look at him again. Putting down the silverware, you gave your attention back to Junmyeon. "When can I leave?"

He scoffed before he could take another sip of wine. "I already told you. Until we deem fit."

"You can't keep me here!"

"Maybe you should have considered that before you came here.”

"You might enjoy it here," Baekhyun hummed.

"I doubt it," you snapped back.

Chanyeol leaned forward onto the table. “Do you have family?"

You swallowed nervously. "Yes."

"You should ask her if she has a lover," Jongdae crooned. When all eyes jerked to him, you carefully slid the knife over to your right hand under the rim of the plate. By luck, you had decided to wear a dress with sleeves. You just needed to conceal the knife until you were back in your room.

"Do you?" Jongin asked of you, a little too interested for your comfort.

You glared daggers at Jongdae. "No, I don't."

His lips curled gleefully. "I don't believe you." He shrugged. "Then again, maybe it's not a lover that you’re trying to avoid."

"My aunt is expecting me."

"And she'll keep expecting you," Junmyeon growled.

A hand flashed out of nowhere, snatching up your wrist and catching the knife before it fell to the floor. "I wouldn't do that," Yixing warned. You tried to yank your wrist back, but he took the opportunity to bring you closer to him.

Junmyeon sighed. "Yixing.”

Revealing who was in charge Yixing released your wrist, but he put the knife in front of him. Small indentations appeared along the blade that weren’t there before. A perfect fit for a hand.

You stood with such force that your chair overturned behind you.

"Finished already?" Jongin teased.

You gave a single hard nod and stormed out of the dining hall. None of them stopped you.

"This is going to be fun," one of them chuckled. A chair scraped hastily against the floor and you hurried faster to your room.

41 notes · View notes

smolvenger · 1 year

Text

The Cure for Virginity

Robert Laing x fem! Reader Oneshot

Summary: Charlotte thinks you have been a virgin for too long. You should take advantage of a certain fellow tenant at the High-Rise, she says. The best amenity in the building- Doctor Robert Laing.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: 18+, SMUT Y'ALL (First Time, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Doctor kink, Virginity kink, dirty talk), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, and loss, Richard Wilder being a prick. But some moments of fluff and romance.

A/N: My first time (heh) ever writing for High-Rise! I hope you guys like it! Comments, Reblogs, Private Messages, and asks about my work are always appreciated!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare(I hope y'all don't mind me tagging away)

"You should be adding on the vows of poverty and obedience!"

“I’m not a nun, Charlotte!” you shot back.

“At this point, you might be!”

You huffed as you kicked your feet in the water of the pool. It was packed with people that afternoon. It was one of the new joys of the place. Even the janitors glided by to clean the floors with mops on their shoes as if they were skates, smiling.

You were getting to know the residents one by one. So far, you had befriended some of the women. Like sweet, quiet Helen with her soft brown hair and a baby bump that was overdue. Helen sat on a chair. She read a magazine as her kids played Marco Polo in the pool. And Charlotte- tall, slender, with dark hair and always a laugh in her smile. But now, the laugh was at you as she waded through the waters.

“Please shut up, we’re in a public space! There are kids everywhere! Can we discuss the sale on baked goods they have in the grocery store here instead?” you begged.

“They might as well learn! Gave Toby the Talk when he was five!” Charlotte shot back.

“Uh-Uhm- anyone watch any good shows on the television lately?” you then changed desperately.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She shook the water from her ears, her beautiful black hair covered by a white swimming cap. She went up to the pool’s edge and folded her arms over it, resting her chin on them.

“This place has everything for you, Y/N- A grocery store, a spa, a school, a gym, and even a sex life if you want…” she continued.

You splashed the water on her face, and she laughed as she held her arms up in defense.

“But the thing is…I know someone for you. Someone more than able to take care of it…” Charlotte began.

“I’m pretty sure any average penis can do the job! And why do you care so much? It’s a personal choice about my body- none of your beeswax!” you retorted.

She raised one of her eyebrows as she swam to you.

“Not even oral?” she asked.

She would not be silenced by a refusal. You leaned in.

“No!” you whispered.

She pulled herself to the edge. Water splashed as she emerged to sit on the edge next to you.

“Y/N, I have a tip for you- two words!” she said.

She held up a fist and uncurled two fingers with the first and last names.

“Robert Laing.”

“Oh my god, you’re setting me up?” you sighed.

She shrugged.

“Why not? His tongue reached places I never thought it could!” she recalled.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you seriously setting me up with your boyfriend?!” you cried, leaning forward.

“No! He’s not…” she answered.

“So, he’s your ex…you’re setting me up with your ex!?” you questioned.

“It was a fling- long over now. We’ve moved on. But we’re on good terms! All the women love him for a reason- he’s incredible! You’re going to lose it once, Sister Y/N, it might as well be someone who knows how to do the job. Listen to me-“

She pointed up to the above floors.

“Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.”

She flipped her legs up and walked over to the chairs.

“What do you think, Helen?!” she prodded.

You looked over to see Helen as she reclined on the pool chair. She tipped her lovely face from her magazine.

“Of Robert Laing?” she asked.

“Yeah-in bed!” Charlotte asked.

“Incredible! Nothing like it!!” Helen agreed.

Are you kidding me? Oh god- this place has a gigolo! you thought.

You forced your jaw to shut. High-Rise life wasn’t like normal life. It was a culture shock for you. Here, any proper rules about what was good or bad were out the window. People lived as they wanted and did what they wanted. There was no consequence. Each night, in the middle of the Twentieth floor, you could hear giggles and laughter. You passed people groaning and screaming with sex from their rooms. If not in the halls. The loud music from the constant partying was everywhere the second it was dark. You even heard housewives discussing what drugs they inhaled as they carried brown grocery bags.

“He’s a Shy boy. At First. But if you're alone with him in a bedroom…well, it’s a different man. But it’s not so intense that your first time with him would be too much. Unless you want to try anal,” Charlotte informed you.

You shot a look at Charlotte. Kids ran around the pool and tried to cartwheel into the water by you.

But Helen nodded and smiled. She spoke with the cherubic cheerfulness of a Disney princess.

“Oh yes, even anal with Robert is fantastic!” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Besides, you had more pressing matters. There was a party that Royal’s wife, Ann, invited you to. A full 18th-century style ball complete with costumes! And what luck that she had costumes in your size available to rent!

Your gown was a lighter color- a creamy white, right in a shade that flattered you. Every guest was dressed in white or cream in their Rococo attire, like you. Your stays loosened now that they adjusted to your body. There were peals and beading on the bodice. Your large skirt swished as you moved, enjoying a fresh glass of champagne in hand.

You went by to try and make small talk when you felt something hit your skirt and on the ground. It was a bottle of wine. Fallen to the floor. A baritone voice behind you muttered “shit!”

Your stays prevented you from slouching, you squatted down to get it. You saw a long, elegant hand also reach for it. You looked up to see a young man who was not in 18th-century wear but a modern suit. In the black jacket and pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb against all the white of the guests.

But Holy Crap he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, a soft crop of hair a color between blonde and red, and his suit held a tall, lean frame.

“Oh- I’m so sorry! Did I get your dress?” he asked.

You both got up. Your stomach flipping, you felt self-conscious. The cut of the gown and the stays were better than any push-up bra. It was bumping up your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down there and then jolt back up. Your hands clasped and you brought them up to your neck in both surprise and a surge of modesty.

“No, you didn’t at all!” you insisted.

You glanced at the bottle of Riesling he had- you liked that flavor. You enjoyed getting it from many an evening at the grocery store. Especially when your bank account was low. It was affordable, crisp, and delicious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You gave him your name. He reached his hand with a smile.

“I’m Laing. Doctor Robert Laing.”

Doctor Robert Laing? That Doctor Laing?! The gigolo!? That was who the ladies were discussing?! You thought.

You stared at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Oh! Doctor Laing! I heard of you,” you replied out loud.

You didn’t need to tell him the context though. You offered your hand and offered it for him to shake.

“Good things, I hope!” he added with a wink that made your heart stop.

He accepted your hand, his hands felt ice cold, but soft.

“And how do you know Royal? He wouldn’t invite you if you didn’t know him,” Robert asked.

“Not well. I do see his wife around. Got to chat with her. We wound up getting along. She invited me here. She insisted I go out and get to know the people here…moved in two weeks ago,” you explained.

“Guess I’m still new here too-Month and a half!” Robert chatted.

“What room?” you asked.

“2505,” he answered.

You got to about talking where you came from as he began to light a limp cigarette, puffing at it lightly. He was very polite. His eyes were on you, listening more than talking. You discussed what you thought of the High-Rise. If you have been to the spa yet. Who you met. You then discussed the music playing at the party. You told him the orchestra was playing ABBA. One of your favorite bands!

“Y/N, that glass is already empty- could I fetch you another drink?” he offered.

“Sure thing!”

Right as Robert turned to get your drink, a burly, bearded man in costume blocked him.

“Hey there, dickhead- this is a themed party!” he declared.

Robert Laing could hardly say a word before the brute half-picked him up, dragging him off. He held onto the Doctor’s collar like a cat carrying a kitten. Guests seeing him pass by snickered at Robert’s modern attire. But you followed.

“Hey! Put him down! He didn’t do anything!” you tried to protest.

You beat your fists at Jerkass’s arm, but he swiped you away. He ignored you as he grabbed the wine bottle from Robert’s hand. He tossed the handsome doctor into the elevator roughly. Then pushed the button for it to close.

The Doctor locked eyes with you as the doors slid shut and he vanished. His face looked sad and scared. Far from the swaggering sex maniac you heard of. “Cheap bastard” the Jerkass cursed at the bottle before tossing it on the white fur rug.

Royal’s dog, a white German Shepherd with a bow tie, approached the bottle to sniff it. You bent your knees and picked it up. Yes, it was a cheap brand. But it tasted good. And Robert was trying to be a good guest.

You hid the bottle behind your back until you snuck into the bedroom. The bed was piled with the coats and purses of the guests. You planted it in your large purse by the pillows amongst everyone’s things. Then you turned back to enjoy the party. After an hour, you left, saying you had work early tomorrow. You got your purse and punched the lift to the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

You went to room 2505 and knocked. Robert opened, bewildered. A strand of his hair had flown out and he lacked his jacket. Not that it detracted his looks, not at all.

“Here- your wine,” you offered.

You pulled the bottle from your purse and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he answered.

“Are you okay-You look like you’ve been in a fight!” you asked.

He let out a deep sigh, pressing a hand to his head.

“No- lift broke for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s miserable! As if being kicked out wasn’t bad enough!” you commented.

He looked down at the bottle. He turned to put it on a chair and then returned to you, leaning closer against the doorframe.

“You seemed to be happy there. I’m sorry I had to make you leave,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I came to wear this costume. Nothing more.” you added, giving the skirt a swish with your hand.

He leaned a little closer.

“You do look beautiful in it,” he complimented.

Lightning struck you. The edges of your vision had stars and you tried to even process if what you heard was real. He took a step aside, gesturing to his flat.

“But that wine…it’s not as good to drink alone. How about…how about we split it?” he offered.

You froze where you were. Your breath stopped, becoming a lump in the middle of your throat. Your hands turned sweaty.

“I don’t have any food in my stomach for that much booze…” you answered.

His eyebrows lowered, yet there was an honesty in his eyes. Even innocence. No guile to have his way with you. Not like Helen’s husband, Wilder. Wilder would charge at you. Making offers of his bed or the nearest surface. Not caring when you said no. You’d slap him and flee before he could grab you.

The soft way Robert looked at you suddenly made you panic with regret. The words flew out of you like a burp.

“Serve it with dinner and I’ll call it a deal!” you blurted.

Shit, Shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking? you thought.

Your pulse raced. That was too forward, too bold. But then he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make it. You don’t have to provide a thing.”

Time stopped. You could hardly believe it.

“Then it’s settled. Are you free tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yes,” Robert confirmed.

“What time?” you asked.

“Let’s say Seven.”

“It’s done. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

He smiled at you.

“I look forward to it,” he answered.

You said your goodbyes. The second you got back to your flat, you threw yourself onto the couch in a pile of white silk of your dress. You put a pillow to your face and screamed into it, kicking your legs in giddy joy. Your maturity level descending.

A date! A date! I have a date! I asked a hot guy out! And he said yes!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, how am I even going to sleep tonight??? ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The next day, you were out of coffee and bread and headed down to the grocery store. But who should also be there, wheeling a cart, but Helen. She waved at you, gesturing to you to come near her.

“What’s up, Y/N- there’s a look on your face! Was Royal’s fun?” she asked.

“Helen-I met Laing last night,” you reported.

She gasped and then smiled.

“See- lovely fellow! And a looker too, isn’t he?” she teased.

You looked down at your hands on the grocery cart with a smile that confirmed- Yes, he was handsome. Helen kept giggling, a blush on her cheeks. Then you returned up at her, an idea making you frown.

“And are you sure he’s available? I don’t want to make some poor woman miserable, even by accident!” you asked.

“Yes- not committed to anybody…he’s been around. But no attachments. If there was, I’d know!” she confirmed.

Your carts paused in the cereal aisle. You took a deep breath.

“I’m having dinner with him tonight” you announced.

“What! That’s wonderful! You did the work for us!” she chirruped, clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” you prodded.

“Charlotte and I had a chat, and we had a plan- we were going to set you up with him. I’d go to you and tell you everything about him. Charlotte would go to Robert’s and sing every bit of your praises. Then you’d both agree to meet up or exchange phone numbers!”

You gave a smile and shrugged.

“Thank you-I appreciate the thought! But I’m able to find my own men and set up my own dates of course!” you replied.

You pushed your carts to a corner to talk. You then explained how you met him and the party. Returning the wine bottle and everything.

“He’s even going to cook- isn’t that thoughtful?!” she commented.

“I’m just nervous about it. Dates make me nervous,” you confided.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Helen comforted.

A lady passed by with sunglasses over her eyes and a bold shade of lipstick. Passerby’s from the aisles asked for her autograph. She half-smiled and signed notepads with a flourish. The dog in her cart leaned his nose close at them to get a whiff, wagging his tail.

“Think of this- you’ll have a lovely dinner at minimum. And at maximum- you won’t be walking when I see you tomorrow,” she reasoned, raising a hand to rub her pregnant belly.

You felt your entire face get hot with embarrassment.

“I’m not the type to kiss on the first date, much less shag! It’s only a dinner-not a wedding night! But I’ll let you know how it goes. So don’t get your hopes up! And Helen, And that goes for Charlotte too! I know you’ll tell her!” you insisted.

Both of you wheeled your carts to get in the long line for the cashier.

“But I still have to…impress him,” you blubbered. Could you even live up to the other women here?

Helen rubbed your back, “If he didn’t like you, he’d say no. Y/N, you know he’s nice! Just wear your best dress-that should make you feel confident!”

You let out a deep exhale. Your carts moved forward in the line.

“Part of me is tempted to cancel. Save myself the embarrassment. Or the heartbreak,” you confessed.

Helen leaned into you.

“Charlotte says he sunbathes in the afternoons. Naked. Get to her place and look down if you want a peek at what to look forward to. That might convince you to go forward.” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Holy shit, this can’t be real. I can’t be doing this, you thought.

Your heart was racing, your finger shaking as you pressed the button to go to the Twenty-Fifth floor. Up it went, up, up, up. You could chicken out and run away, but no- that was being a coward. Didn’t you want this in the first place? Hell, you were the one who flat-out asked him!

What if it all went wrong? What if then he hated you? What if you hated him? Yes, he was incredibly handsome but handsome men could be total pricks. Wilder was as handsome as they come. But the man was a slimy, creepy rat bastard you wanted to shove off the highest balcony. If only Helen would divorce his sorry ass by now. She didn’t deserve him. But what if Wilder was a sweet guy back then? What if when Helen began dating him, he wasn’t like that? People change. What if Robert seemed okay at first and then turned into an asshole who broke your heart or hurt you? What then?

But all that was for later. Now was now.

It’s a free dinner, at least you thought remembering Helen’s words.

Taking a deep breath, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out to the hall.

You checked a hand mirror in your pocket to make sure your makeup was right, and that there weren’t any noticeable stains in your teeth. Your dress was blush pink, showing your shoulders and snug on your body with a flared skirt. Pink, how ironic- that mix of innocent white and passionate red. You had jewelry and earrings complete with heels. The heating broke throughout for a few hours, and you wore a coat over your dress from the chill of the building.

There it was, checking the notepad you had in your pocket and then double-checking, it was the right room- 2505. You entered, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

You knocked on the door and saw him. Your body froze at the sight of him. If this was real. If he was real. He was in a white dress shirt with a grey jacket and black tie. So simple, but so becoming. His eyes were soft when they looked at you, like the gaze of a doe. This couldn’t be the wild sex maniac the women of the High-Rise gossiped about. The man they went to for sex as they went to the spa for massages. Or was he?

“Hello, Robert….” You greeted.

He opened it.

“Please…come in…can I take your coat?”

“Yes…”

You sucked in the air when you felt him behind you, his hands raised up. Taking your coat. They were gentle as they brushed against your shoulders. You felt his eyes drink you in from behind. Seeing your dress. Seeing the outline of your body. But you did not raise an arm or hand to cover yourself, you let him look. He walked over and put the coat over a hook on the wall.

“Welcome, Y/N. You look lovely again. Make yourself at home,” he greeted with a smile.

Your chest fluttered as you mumbled a “thank you.”

You noticed the room- one wall had a tiny square of grey paint on it. But the other walls were tall and brown with rectangular columns- sleek and modern. A few boxes were in the back. There was a photo pinned to one wall of him in a casual shirt smiling and hugging a young woman. You thought you glimpsed a bed in one corner and promptly turned your head away to ignore it. Near the dinner table was a sliding glass door to a balcony like every house as the sun had finally set and it darkened to nighttime. The room was lit a little low- not garishly bright. But not too dark.

You saw him in his lovely suit and his tie. You smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, Robert. The place looks wonderful,” you complimented.

He gallantly pulled out the chair at the table for you. You made a smile too big for your face and your stomach fluttered. Robert made his way to the other end. There was the Riesling along with a small salad bowl and a meal.

“Well, what brought you here?” you asked.

Robert’s hand froze, fork in mid-air.

“It was my…my sister,” he answered.

“She invited you?”

“No, she died…” he replied.

This man at the party held himself like a demigod, a touch of the divine within him. But at the mention of his sister, here you were with the mortal half.

“Oh, Robert…that’s awful…” you said.

He began to blink. He then reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and began to smoke. His hands were still shaking after a several puffs with the cigarette. You saw a tear in the duct of his eye. You got up, went to your coat pockets, retrieved tissues, and hurried over to give him one.

“Here…here…” you said.

You heard sniffs. You then handed him a glass of water from the kitchen, and he began to gulp it up. His eyes were puffy with quiet tears. He then glanced at the photo.

“We were close. And she was the nicest, most genuine person you could imagine. She had a full life…but not a long one…” he continued.

“Robert, that’s still a tragedy…and you should grieve how you want….” You comforted, leaning closer to him.

Looking down at your hands, you saw they fidgeted. Glancing around the room, you wondered if now the right time was to even have this dinner. You retreated two steps from him.

“Do you need some space? I can go back to-”

“No! No- please! Please stay…” Robert pleaded, leaning forward in his chair, a hand up to stop you.

“Alright, I will.”

You returned to the chair and sat down.

“Sometimes, I’m over her. I think I’ve stopped crying…then it hits me…I’m sorry, Y/N, you weren’t expecting a crying mess….” He confided.

“I’m pretty sure losing a beloved sibling would make any person into a crying mess…” you reasoned.

He then looked at the dinner…

“We should start. The food might get cold,” he reasoned.

You sat down and began with the rolls in a basket on the table.

“So, tell me…tell me more about your job! I know you’re a doctor,” you queried.

“Well, I’m a physiologist. And a professor…” he said.

As he dug into the salad, his shoulders began to lower. His lips curled to a small smile as he looked at you.

“Not just a medical doctor? That’s impressive. That requires lots of studying to get approved!” you praised, nodding your head.

“I teach physiology to medical students in training. How to do autopsies. One poor chap flat out fainted once in the middle last month.”

“Well, can’t blame him! I see too much gore in a horror movie, and I have to cover my eyes!” you commented.

“It’s the human body! It’s fascinating!” he said, gesticulating with his hands.

He grinned wider and set the cigarette on an ashtray on the table. The salad and main course and side dishes vanished. Time passed easily talking to him. One topic you discussed excitedly so much that you had to freeze your hands from knocking over the Riesling bottle placed next to you. He lit a new one, and began to absent-mindedly smoke, but kept his eyes on you. You sipped on your glass and realized he had finished this.

“Oh, the bottle…it’s on the other side,” he commented.

“Here, let me bring it over. Would you like me to pour it for you?” you offered.

“Yes…”

You went over and poured the glass. He picked up the cigarette, the smoke curling up to twist and melt into the air. Then he looked at you with reverence above him. It was a nice picture. Domestic even. Your gaze met his and you pulled up the wine bottle before you could overflow his glass by accident.

Feminism was leaving your mind like filtering sand each second you laid eyes on him. Could you see yourself as his wife already? Was it too soon?

You could see yourself waking up next to him. Fixing him coffee in the morning. Adjusting his tie before he went to work, asking for him to tell you every bit of it as you gave him a demure kiss on the cheek. When it came to the time, he would be back home, you’d dress up with lipstick, skirts, pearls, and perfume just like now. You would have dinner prepared on the table or a hot bath too for good measure. He would enter and greet you with one of the smiles that made you flutter and a deeper kiss than that in the morning. You would pour him a drink when he came in. He’d praise the dinner but then look at you. Saying he’d rather devour you. Then pick you up. Carry you to the kitchen countertop. Shove away the leftover ingredients. He’d make hickeys across your pearl-draped neck. Then he'd push you to lie down on it. He’d lift your skirt, drop his pants and fuck you senselessly on the countertop until….

The footsteps of people out in the hall snapped you back. You felt your entire body clench, arousal already soaking your panties. A pit in your stomach with the food. You made yourself swallow the fantasy out. That was for later. You had to be present. Your body felt hot like it had a fever. Returning to your seat, you poured yourself another sip of Riesling. Grateful that he chilled it. Robert turned his head to the outside balcony, gesturing to it.

“Ah- look outside! It’s beautiful tonight! Sometimes I can hear the crickets…or see the stars,” he suggested.

The two of you went out to the balcony and looked up and out. You saw some stars, whatever wasn’t blocked by the fog of London nearby. Crickets chirruped from below. Both of you admired it for a few minutes.

He turned to you, flicking his cigarette off the end. It was like a tiny, red star before blinking into nothing. As if it dissolved into the night air before hitting the pavement.

“Y/N, thank you for earlier…and for returning the bottle…” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. They were dicks to you. And it’s a good wine. And thanks for opening up about your sister-I think there are half-off roses at the store. I’ll send some to you in her honor, just tell me a color…” you offered.

“I should be the one getting you flowers. I had work and had to cook the food- ran out of time,” he explained.

“Well, I’m not the one who needs it!” you quipped.

He chuckled warmly. You realized he was leaning closer. And you could pick up his scent- cigarette smoke and cologne mixed up in the drink that was Doctor Robert Laing. His eyes hypnotized you. His face, smooth and handsome, transfixed you. You felt his hands on your waist. You felt him lifting you up, sitting you down on hard brick and mortar. But your gaze never left his. You looked down and he up.

“Robert, I…” you began.

But the words stopped. Your thoughts stopped.

His eyes went to your lips. Then he touched your cheek. That cold, soft hand. He began to lean forward.

Oh God, Oh god, oh god, ShitFuckShitFuck, it was about to happen! You thought in a thrilled panic.

Before you could close your eyes and seal the kiss, you felt a gust of cold wind on your back. You were so transfixed by him that you didn’t register where he put you. Blinking and then turning around, you saw he had set you to sit on the balcony. Right over the twenty-five floors below to the hard concrete. A push of his arms and you were a goner.

You let out a scream.

You wrapped your arms around him. You clung onto him like a koala and buried your face into his neck.

“Robert! Please!” you cried.

You could feel his smile, but he wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back, supporting you, keeping you safe.

“Okay- it’s okay, I got you,” he assured.

“Take me off- now!” you insisted.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up like you were as light as a toy doll and setting you down. He wiped his hands on his sides.

“I’m so sorry. Some of the women liked that. I should have asked,” he apologized.

“It’s okay-you got me off!” you assured him.

“Here, I know what’ll make you feel better. I brought my records with me…would you like to hear one?” he asked.

You nodded. He brought out a box. There was such a wide variety that he collected. He insisted on not sticking religiously to one genre. Good music was good music. He offered you your choice of albums. You selected one of the old-school crooners from the fifties. He set it on and began to play it. The album started as you both sat there, listening. The music melting your adrenaline from the balcony. You turned and felt him look at you. He then offered an open hand.

“Can we…can we dance?” he offered.

“Yes.”

You felt him pull you up. You felt him take one hand in your other and you felt him reach an arm around your waist to your back. You both moved. It wasn’t as much dancing as it was gentle swaying. But he was so graceful, so soothing you didn’t care.

“Robert, why did you say yes to dinner?” you asked.

“I’ve been lonely here, Y/N. I wanted company. And after that party, I wanted your company…you made this lonely man feel a little less lonely in this place here.” he explained.

The crooner’s voice went up to end the song and a new one began.

“Your hands…they’re cold. Doctor’s hands are always cold,” you commented.

“Then here,” he offered.

Robert put one hand to his face, letting out an exhale. on the palm. Then he rubbed it on his pants. The friction creating more heat. Then he grasped your hand again.

“No cold hands, no?” he asked.

“Much better,” you nodded.

“Y/N, would you like to learn something medical?” he asked, continuing to sway with you.

“Yes.”

“You can feel the pulse in various places in the body, yes, but that includes your stomach. And that’s for a certain kind of pulse- PMI. Point of Maximum Impulse,” he explained.

“Where is it on me?” you asked.

“Well, can I touch you with my cold doctor's hands?” he quipped.

“Yes,” you answered with a giggle.

He lowered his hand to press the flesh gently beneath your left breast, and between rib bones. You inhaled sharply at his touch.

“There. That’s the PMI- one of the strongest beats from your heart. You can guess certain heart diseases feeling it,” he taught.

“And what can you tell about my pulse, Doctor Laing?” you asked.

His cheeks became pink at the word.

“That it’s…it’s racing…very fast.”

“And why does the heartbeat race? You’re the expert,” you teased.

“Anxiety or danger… but also excitement…”

“What about yours? How is your pulse?” you asked.

“Here…why don’t you tell me yourself…” he offered, smiling back.

You lifted your hand from his and placed it on the left side of his chest, over his grey jacket. You could feel it starting to race.

“It’s going fast too…” he whispered.

“From anxiety, danger…or excitement…”

“Yes…”

Robert then leaned forward, his nose grazing yours. An inch before, almost seeking permission. You gazed at each other’s eyes and then lips.

And finally, they touched sealing into a kiss. You felt him press you tight- an embrace you would never want him to release from. He held onto you. The music swelled- it was now a romantic ballad. He let go.

“I had a good night tonight,” Robert told you.

“I did too…”

His hand dropped to touch the side of your face. He kissed more and more. He pushed his tongue in, and you made a noise at the feel. Only to kiss him more. You felt his hand on your lower back press you closer. Your hips were connecting. Arousal soaked you down below. But even more this time. This time it was real. The friction made you chilled, hypnotized. Nothing, no one else mattered- except him.

“I…I don’t want it to end now….” He confessed.

He kissed you, but then you realized he had guided you right into the column before the kitchen, and he was pawing at your clothes, looking for the zipper in your back. Your mind then went blank in surprise.

“Robert- wait! Please, wait!” you pleaded breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop.

He paused. His arms fell. A strand of hair was loose and his lips were bright pink.

“Did the ladies tell you about me?” you asked.

“No,” he reported.

“I know you’re experienced but I never…never did this before, Robert…” you explained.

“Oh...alright…” he nodded.

No comments. No words of lack of surprise nor total surprise. No laughter and no judgment. No teasing. He only accepted it as a fact, like the earth was round.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I got excited. I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot- but I’ll stop,” He apologized.

He took a few steps back.

Yet the look of him made you light-headed with lust. All yours if only for this night. The raving reviews of the women taunted your mind. And the creeping, slivering desire you felt for Robert Laing overwhelmed you. You realized you didn’t want to call it a night and return home. It was the first step of a steep hike. The view from above would be worth each nerve-wracking step. And that he felt for you…

Your heart was racing out of control. Your head was clear despite the wine, the pooling in your body was urging at you, telling you. It's time. You're ready. And you know it. You want this. You want him.

“I told you to wait… not to stop. Not completely. I trust you. I want this. And I want it to be you…” you directed.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping forward.

You slide a hand behind his head, through his hair. He kissed you further, deeper. You moaned into it.

“The bed. If it’s the first time, you need the bed…” he whispered.

You would let him have you anywhere, but you still smiled. He led you over there to that bed. He laid you down.

“Look at you in that dress, it made me want to ruin you the minute you came in,” he growled.

He kissed you hard and passionately. You sighed into it. Some gentle pressure from his push and you laid down on the bed. He laid on top of you and you felt his weight. It wasn’t to crush you, but just enough that it was like an embrace. You felt a gasp from your lips as he undid his tie and tossed it to the side. His hands raised your skirt. He grinned seeing the nicest lace underwear you had selected. Already visibly stained by how wet you were.

“Here…I’ll make you ready even more, darling…” he said.

He crept a finger down the hem. He then looked up.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes, you can…” you nodded.

You let out a gasp feeling his finger inside you. He moved it around and you shuddered. A gasp that stopped in your throat as he stretched you out, felt your walls, getting deeper. He explored you and you had to get used to it- the newness, the intrusion. But you didn’t want him out yet. He licked his lips as he curled it up, eliciting a small moan from you. You felt him move up your folds and then finding your clit. As he began to circle it, you splayed a hand over his back and grabbed onto his jacket. A shuddering sound escaped you. The man was fully clothed but you were already a mess for him. You began to writhe as he circled it more, in response, a groan came out of you.

“There?” he asked.

“There!” you confirmed in a gasp.

“More, my dear-more?” he asked.

“Yes…then keep them- oh!” you cried, interrupted as he put in a second finger.

You felt your own legs open wider for space. He found the right spot, and you began whimpering. Neck arching and close your eyes to keep feeling it. Then he removed it, wiping the juices on your thigh. You felt cold, and empty without them in you. But that was only the first stage; preparation.

“Can’t believe I’m your first. First to touch you. First to ruin you. First to fuck you. I don’t want any man after to compare to me,” he boasted.

Your fingers began to grip the sheets to steady yourself. Both of you tossed away your shoes.

He unzipped the back of your dress. You pulled him forward, kissing him again, but moving to the lobe of his ear, his neck. He removed your dress. He took off your stockings, kissing your stomach as it glided over and letting it float down to the floor. You were in a bra and underwear. You raised a hand to cup his cheek. Despite the shakiness in your hands and your own brain racing through the fog of arousal, fear, and thrill. You pulled him in to kiss him again, not caring that your teeth clank. He wrapped an arm around you, and you felt the warmth right on your skin.

“We have some walls to test here. I want you to be screaming for the neighbors to complain,” he voiced, taking off his jacket to toss on the floor.

You half sat up and helped him to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With a smooth movement, he removed his pants. You saw the erect outline through his white underwear. You felt your eyes widen as you saw him. Tanned and ripped, clear muscles, strong biceps, and a wide chest and shoulders. He smiled proudly as you sat there ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“That’s good. I like what I see too. There’s just one thing that could be better,” he said.

He went back to kiss you and felt one hand reach to your bra strap in the back. Both of you forgot about the enforced chill of the apartments. You had the fire of bare skin on bare skin. He paused and looked down at your exposed breasts with a smile. He raised his hand, grazing a thumb over your nipple. You shivered from it.

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…” he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you back down, and you peppered kisses all over his jaw and his neck. You even found his earlobe and pecked it. You felt his own hardness press on you as well as his leg. A thin line of cloth on both of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping your bodies from joining. Ache. Need. You felt him against you. Your hips rocked to his and Laing let out a groan. He teased his hardness against your clothed entrance.

“And you know the procedure, Doctor?” you teased with a heated giggle.

“I know it well if you want it,” he replied, his breath hot against you.

“Yes, please…I need you to fuck me,” you mewled, arching your shoulders back, tits splaying.

You never heard this tone in your voice. Wanton. Downright pornographic. But here it was.

You felt his own hips against yours and a shudder between you both. Then he crawled up, and you felt his hardness outline on your stomach. He looked at you.

“Then, keep laying supine…and keep calling me Doctor…” he requested.

He kissed one breast, eliciting a moan from you. He moved on to the other. Your arms reached down until your fingers traced his shoulders. You found his hair and combed all ten of your fingers through it. He moved down to kiss your hip bone. His own hands went up, tracing the side of your leg.

You felt his long fingers splaying over your hip bones and the hem. He was slow- as if enjoying feeling every inch of you. Curling around the hem, he pulled the panties down your thighs. He put them through your knees, through your calves, and off. As if this was a ceremony. Your heart drummed further, your head spinning as he looked down on you. He looked at you bare. His eyes kept between your legs, licking your lips at the sight of your sex.

He removed his underwear and kicked it away. He was already dripping small pearls. You swallowed a gasp. He was monstrous…not that you had any before to compare it to. He returned to hover over you. He pried your legs open with his hands, warm from his breath but also the touch of your skin. You felt your own hips arch forward for him.

You glanced over to the side, seeing the night. It was dark against the soft lights of the apartment. The sky was clear. Stars finally outshone the city smog. A beautiful, peaceful night indeed. A perfect night to lose your innocence to Laing.

He then tipped a finger beneath your chin, moving you to face him.

“I want to see you, I want to look in your eyes when I’m the first one to fuck you, the first to enter you. I want you to look at me,” he rasped.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Looking right into his eyes, you opened your shaking legs. He sank into you. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Moans coming out of you. Then he moved his hips and let it all in.

You let out one little cry when he was fully inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and his moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. He panted right next to you. He kept his eyes on you. Knowing how special this moment was. He finally claimed you. Nothing else would change that now in the future. Robert Laing was the first to enter you. The first to show you sinful bliss.

Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

Your breath hitched when finally, he was inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and a moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

“There…there’s a good girl…like that…” he rasped.

He thrust into you again, and again. A voice flew out of you, a voice you never knew you had. He began to pick up only slightly. You gasped- you liked this.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Doctor-fuck- yes!!” you hissed.

You tilted your head back, eyes closing to enjoy the sensation when he cupped your jaw and pulled it down. You opened your jaw as he traced a finger over your lips.

“Remember-eyes on me….” He panted.

You let his face meet yours. His lips grazed yours in an open kiss. He even took his forehead and pressed yours against it. You felt his breath hot against you.

“Angel, can you…can you take more?” he asked.

You nodded, your hands reaching to that strong back and digging your nails in. He responded by snapping his hips right into you, such a hard pull you felt the invasion arrange your insides.

“Doctor!” you cried out.

It was the sweetest invasion, the pinprick of pain that brought pleasure. He picked up the speed. His own groans from his pink lips serenade your whorish moans. Then more.

“Fuck, you’re-you’re tight. Shit-shit- taking me so well, there- there’s- fuck!-my good girl,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace.

You felt yourself get dizzy. Your hands around, reaching his hair and raking your nails deeper onto his back. He had found the right spot, your hips meeting his, but angling- deeper, with the speed increasing. You were sliding against the bed, yet you weren’t stopping him. He then took your lower thighs and lifted them, he reached the upper angle, near your clit. He was getting rougher.

“Doctor-Yes-oh, Jesus- Yes-yes!” you were yelling.

His thrusts were wilder. Faster. He grunted and groaned, eyes down on you. Here was the passionate man the women raved about. The desk next to the bed was shifting around with how deeply, quickly, and powerfully he was fucking you. And the bed itself was denting against the wall.

Something was bubbling inside you. Building up. He was cursing, then crying out your name. Something was building in you. Like you were going to break if you let it grow. Like you would die. But you wanted to. at the sound as he slammed you, hips slamming into yours as he kept up the fast rhythm. All as he looked you in the eye and you in his eyes. Then he put a finger in your slit and curled it on your nub.

The pleasure was rising. More moans came out of you. Not quiet ones. Bubbling up wilder as he stroked you there. About to spin out of control. You weren’t going to last.

“D-Doctor- I think I’m- I think I’m going to-“

“Cum-darling-cum, cum with me!” He was yelling as well, meeting your volume.

It built higher, higher, until-

You let out a last, loud cry.

The spinning pleasure snapped in you. You took in a slight gasp as the shockwaves of your peak. You felt him give a last shout of your name as he came too. He was pulsing inside you, and you felt yourself shake, an ache in your own pussy and legs. The record had stopped playing and there was only the white noise of the vents above you. The heat had come back on. Not that you or Robert needed it.

You fell together, feeling the eclipse of your shared high. You saw the ceiling spin above you. Slowly arriving back to. The apartment reeked of sex, of your bodies, of sweat, and the heat of passion. He pulled out of you; you could hear his own quick breaths. Trying to catch his own. Your entire body was heavy from your climax, craving sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m…I’m tired…tired and wonderful,” you replied.

He smiled.

“I’m glad then…” he said.

You nestled close and wrapped an arm around him. Good night, you couldn’t have asked for a better hour.

“Robert, Thank you. I’m glad it was with you…” you complimented.

“So, I take that you liked it?” he quipped.

“I loved it- Doctor,” you answered with a giggle.

As you nestled closer to him, he laughed back with you. The laughter made his body under your arms jilt up and down. The sound rumbled and echoed through your skin. There was something pure about it. Sweet.

He let go. But it felt too soon. You wanted to hold him for longer. Cuddle him. Kiss him on the cheek and forehead. Call him every pet name under the sun. You leaned on your side and traced the outline of his cheek down to his shoulder. He blinked and watched your hands, unused to the intimacy. Then he shifted closer to lay on his side parallel to you. You wrapped your arms around each other.

“Can I stay?” you proposed.

His eyes went wide. His jaw went slack. Then he nodded.

“Yes- Y/n, please! I never had anyone stay over the night…” he confessed.

Your eyebrows shut up.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped.

Comparing you to his ex-lovers on a first date wasn’t a wise choice for a man. But there was a sadness in his voice. It made you halt. It made you listen.

“They’d take me. And then they’d leave. Not say a word when I passed them at the store. Like I was no different than their plumber…”

You traced a finger over his bare chest. Drawing figures as he beamed down at you.

“Then I’ll stay…but I might need my toothbrush tomorrow. My breath will stink if you kiss me in the morning,” you reminded him.

“I’ll brave it then,” he responded.

He leaned in to kiss you. Both of you settled in closer. Never letting go of the other. Discussing everything. Discussing nothing. Your exhaustion from your orgasm won over and you both melted into a peaceful sleep, there in room 2505.

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